Bodonyi Emőke (szerk.): Lélekvándorlásaim. Péreli Zsuzsa kiállítása. 2017.11.30 - 2018.02.25. Ferenczy Múzeum, Szentendre (Szentendre, 2017)
is evocative of Pompeii's one-time affluence and culture, a small dancing bacchante, and a Janus-faced head that symbolizes the connection of the past and the future. The artist went on to afford a special role to the nimble bacchante in her later works. She is the one to stand at the end of the path that is lined with ionic columns and cedars in Passageway (2002), drawing aside the starred curtain of time, to lead us into the beyond. In the illusory space of Musa Aeterna (2004), which is defined by the gold and red, chequered, stage-like floor, she draws open the cloud curtain of the universe, as if in a theatre, to lure the viewer into the world of Art, which brings earth and heaven closer, and which is illuminated by the golden background that recalls icons. This more philosophical approach to time and space also came to inform the smaller dimensions of human life. The abovementioned stage and its wings also appear in the Gobelin, Three Sisters (1995). The sisters stand on a black-and-white chequered stage, with the curtains drawn aside, behind each other, holding on to each other's arms. They wear the same checked dress as an expression of their kindred spirits, but they gaze in different directions: their ambitions and desires are dissimilar. They walk across the chessboard of the stage of this play of life with the fate allotted to them, while the slightly blurred background evokes the meditative, musing feel of Chekov’s Three Sisters. Poetic and tinged with humour, this outlook also informs Shating on Midsummer's Night (2003): the skating couple almost merge as they glide through the slopes of their lives' hills. Do Not Fear! Fate was treated in a historical perspective in the large-scale Anthem, made in 1996 for the 1100th anniversary of the Magyars' arrival in the Carpathian Basin, and exhibited in the dilapidated halls of the Sándor Palace, along with the works of seven other artists, each based on Ferenc Kölcsey’s poem of the same title. An emphatic motif of Zsuzsa Péreli’s Gobelin is the foreshortened road, paved with wide stones and lined with burning trees, which represents our life on Earth; on its left, symbols of destruction can be seen, like a graveyard, a ruined castle, and the pulleddown manor of Felsőszenterzsébet; on the right, an idyllic scene with sunlit hills and grazing sheep. There is, however, a higher meaning to our experiences and deeds during our life on Earth, whether they be good or bad, and the road, now celestial, can proceed with great certainty and faith among the seven pairs of arboreal columns, towards the gothic arch of heaven. In this case the suggestion of space does not serve the realism of the rep-, resentation; rather, it is to enhance the overall effect and to draw the viewer into the image. From her early years as an artist, Zsuzsa Pereli was always interested in people, whose lives she interpreted when she placed them in the focus of her works. In time, however, they were left out of the compositions, whose human-less scenes open towards a broader spiritual realm, the universe, even when they appear to be mere landscapes. Asha (2007-2008) reflects an understanding of the laws of life, suggesting the four seasons, the cycle of life, with subtle colour transitions, and offering a message that we are everywhere at the same time, and that the past, the present and the future are always with us. The Sun by Night, the Moon by Day (1998) is again more than a starlit landscape. There is a red-framed window in the centre, in the sky, with one casement opening inwards, towards the viewer, the other outwards, towards the space of the image. Above all, the window marks our presence, because it only makes sense to distinguish inside and outside for our sake, while we search our place in the world. The straight road of Internal Pilgrimage (2015) and the winding path of Light (2017) also mark life, the former leading to a slowly opening gate, the latter weaving through gentle hills. The Sun and the Moon, day and night, light and darkness, doubts and certainties shape the things of the world together. We must take care of our own fate by understanding these, as is suggested by the two most recent tapestries with angels. In Illuminatio (2012-2013), the angel sitting on the cloud, contemplating gently, has returned to its peers. By contrast, the angel of Do Not Fear! (2017) is still in motion, having 12
