David Maljković: In the café, a landscape is placed on the wall at eye level

At the edge of the terrace, there is a metal railing

At the edge of the terrace, there is a metal railing. Horizontal lines extend at regular intervals and close the space at eye level. The floor is wooden, the boards laid parallel, leading toward the edge.

Beyond the railing, there is a row of trees. The trunks are vertical but irregularly spaced. The canopies overlap and block the view into depth. Through them, a river can be seen.

The lines of the railing enter among the trees and continue through them. In the distance, they align with the surface of the water and follow its course. The horizontal intervals cut across the trunks and divide them into segments.

From this point of view, the railing and the river appear in the same sequence.

·  ·  ·

I stood at the edge and looked ahead. Beyond the railing, the space opened up, layers of trees repeating into the distance, and somewhere in between, a river appeared. Everything I was looking for was right in front of me. I thought I could start without preparation, simply enter what was already there, but I held my gaze a little longer.

In the studio, there is a large table covered with paints and tools

In the studio, there is a large table covered with paints and tools. A plant stands next to it, its leaves extending beyond the edge of the work surface. The floor is wooden, but in the center it is covered with a dark surface that defines the working area.

A canvas is placed at the edge of the black surface. It leans against an easel and occupies a central position in the room.

Structures and planes in vivid colors appear in the painting. The lines extend beyond the canvas and continue onto the wall behind it. Color repeats on objects in the space - on the table, on the floor.

Trolleys and tables are arranged around the painting, but from this point of view they begin to follow its structure.
Surfaces align with the planes on the canvas. Edges continue into one another.

The floor no longer leads through the room, but toward the painting. The center is no longer in the space, but on the surface of the canvas.

·  ·  ·

I stood in the studio and looked at the painting. At one moment, I had the feeling that everything around me was slowly rearranging. The table, the trolley, and the floor began to follow what was happening on the canvas. I wasn't sure whether I was looking at someone else's work or my own. I recognized something of mine in the painting, but it was completely unfamiliar. 

Chairs are arranged in rows throughout the room

Chairs are arranged in rows throughout the room. They are plastic and orange, repeating along the walls and defining the edge of the space. One chair is black and set apart from the others.

In the center, there is a small table. On it are papers and a vase with a single flower. The papers are neatly stacked, and the flower is turned toward the window.

The floor is covered with white tiles. The grout lines form a grid that extends across the entire room and aligns with the spaces between the chairs and the position of the table legs.

At the end of the room, there is a window with a metal grille. The bars divide the scene into regular sections. Beyond them, a wall, part of a roof, and a narrow inner courtyard are visible. Depth is interrupted before the gaze can find a way out.

The lines of the grille repeat in the joints of the tiled floor and in the gaps between the chairs. From this point of view, it is no longer clear where the waiting room ends.

·  ·  ·

I sat on the orange chair and looked at the grille. I tried to change my position. The chair creaked. As I looked, the waiting room and the courtyard, separated by metal bars, became the same space, so I stopped moving.
 

A photograph of a Japanese interior appears on the screen

A photograph of a Japanese interior appears on the screen. Along one wall, there is a shallow alcove. Inside it are a hanging scroll and a single branch in a simple vase. The remaining objects are arranged along the edges of the room.

The floor is covered with tatami mats. Their lines lead toward the alcove, stopping at its edge. The walls remain almost empty. Light falls onto the paper of the scroll, while the interior of the alcove remains in soft shadow.

The photograph sits between the title of an article and a sequence of other images. Text begins above it, while more scenes continue below. With a single movement of the finger, the photograph disappears. The empty space within the alcove remains for a while.

·  ·  ·

I scrolled on, then returned to the same photograph. I enlarged it until the niche took up the entire screen. Almost empty, it filled it completely.

The room contains two work surfaces

The room contains two work surfaces. One is intended for preparing food, the other for work. There is no clear boundary between them. A cup, a notebook, bread, a kettle, and a computer all occupy the same level.

Open metal shelves divide the wall into regular sections. The objects are arranged so that nearly equal empty spaces remain between them. On the opposite side of the room is a large glass wall.

The gaze moves between the kitchen and the landscape.

·  ·  ·

I put some water on to boil and opened the sliding door. I walked between the sink, the stove, and the table. Each time I passed the laptop, I kept going. As I walked, I began putting sentences together in my head. One led to another, then a third. None of them made it to the laptop.

A large wooden table stands in the room

A large wooden table stands in the room. It is positioned beside the window so that daylight falls across its entire surface. The remaining pieces of furniture are arranged along the walls, leaving enough open space for movement between them.

On the floor, beside the table, lies a rectangular piece of carpet. Its edges have been cut straight. Small traces of paint remain on its surface, and in several places the fibers have been flattened by the repetition of the same movements.

A pad of white paper rests on the table. The first sheet completely covers those beneath it. Beside it lie a pencil, an eraser, and a small metal vessel. The remaining objects have been moved toward the edges of the table. None of them occupies its central surface.

The grain of the wood continues beneath the pad of paper and reappears on the other side. Its direction does not align with the edges of the sheet. Daylight moves evenly across the table before coming to rest on the white surface of the paper. The center of the room remains empty.

·  ·  ·

I sat down at the table. Everything was in its place.