THE WORLD ACCORDING TO DZYGA

Self-taught, of modest Polish farm-labouring stock for whom artistic culture was non-existent, I knew early on that I would be a painter.  For my first 'creation' on canvas, when I was eleven, I found some old paint leftovers and a couple of worn-out brushes.  Then came the long, lonely apprenticeship with technique.  Every day for more than forty years, I have been training my hand to obey my mind, so as to set my visions, my dreams, on the canvas.

When I shut my eyes, I sometimes see supernatural shapes and colours, rapidly replaced by other shapes and other colours which in their turn vanish into the meanders of my mind.  Some of them can haunt me for days or weeks on end, until an irresistible longing forces me to transpose them onto paper or canvas.  I cannot represent every one of these marvels because my hand is too slow, and sometimes clumsy.  New dreams come, to interrupt the work in progress.  The shapes and colours speak to me, and can lead me down new creative paths.  Thus are my pictures born.  I let them 'ripen' for weeks, sometimes years.  I caress them with my gaze, waiting until they summon me back to the easel.  The dreams evolve, and melt into fresh visions with new elements added on.

Les 3 Mondes

January/February 2004