Cornel Brudașcu has created a remarkable body of work spanning from the 1960s to the present, marked by the mastery with which he paints his compositions and figures. Brudașcu’s passion for dance and movement adds a distinct dimension to his works, evoking the fluidity often associated with post-impressionist painting. In his canvases, rendered in muted tones, pale bodies are set against richly coloured fabrics, existing in a delicate balance between rest and vulnerability, romanticism and melancholy. As Kristian Vistrup Madsen observes, Brudașcu’s works are “infused with a distinct homoeroticism, both tormented and tender.” His melancholic portraits, seemingly timeless, reveal a deep psychological analysis.
LD: You were born in Tusa, Sălaj County, in 1937. How did this path of visual art reveal itself to you?
C.B.: Through my brother, who, while attending high school in Șimleu Silvaniei and Zalău, was noticed by his drawing teacher for the drawings he made, and he, in turn, encouraged me to follow this path of art.
LD: What is your earliest memory connected to art? Your first drawings, subjects, or perhaps the first painting that impressed you?
C.B.: I came to Cluj in 1951 to attend the local Art High School, and I remember that when I first entered the “University” bookshop—called “Pușkin” at the time—I was impressed by one of the strong propaganda images that decorated the walls of the building. Being young, I liked it—I must have been 14 or 15 years old. Later, when I became more aware, I found a Grigorescu album, published around 1937–1938, in black and white, which I very much wanted. I made a great effort to buy it. It cost 25 lei, a sum I could not afford, but I kept trying to save money; in the end, both my father and my brother contributed, and I managed to acquire it.
LD: You have been working in the same studio for over twenty years. How do you relate to the studio space? What have you learned about yourself during these years of working in solitude in the studio?
C.B.: I came to this studio much earlier; I occupied it around 1980, if I remember correctly, shortly after it had been freshly renovated through the efforts of my colleague Ana Lupaș. I don’t think we can speak about solitude—the studio is a natural environment for me; it is the place where I also live.
LD: Could you share with us a more difficult moment in your artistic journey, a moment of searching, of questioning, perhaps of lack of inspiration?
C.B.: There is always a difficult moment; I consider that the journey of any artist is filled with such moments of “searching”, let us say, because one must constantly document oneself, research, ask questions, investigate, do.
Photography by Marius Poput Courtesy of the artist and Plan B Cluj, Berlin
Interview by Andreea Dicianu
Discover the full version of this interview in Volume III.