Dănuț Adrian Chidon-Frunză is a Romanian artist born in 1960. He has participated in several art fairs and biennials. A notable exhibition was the Blue Biennale 2023: Oxymoron, held in Brașov. Other significant exhibitions took place at the Czong Institute for Contemporary Art in Gyeonggi-do and at the Muzeul de Artă Piatra-Neamț in Piatra Neamț. Chidon-Frunză has exhibited alongside artists Liviu Șoptelea and Bianca-Andreea Constantin. We had the pleasure of exploring his career.
.
Dănuț Adrian Iași Chidon Frunză, thank you for taking the time to speak with us. Your journey in the arts began decades ago, with your first solo show in 1981. What first drew you to painting, and how has your relationship with art evolved over the years?
At the age of 6-7, my mother, noticing the pleasure I took in drawing on all the surfaces at hand, started taking me with her to personal and group exhibitions organized in the Art Gallery located near the house in Iași, where I lived. There I entered the fascinating world of art for the first time, viewing works of painting, graphics, and sculpture belonging to important artists from Iași and beyond. I continued drawing and then discovered the joy of coloring, using colored pencils and watercolors. In middle school, I had as my drawing teacher and homeroom teacher Gheorghe Savin, a particularly gentle man, passionate about his work. He meant a lot to me. Later, I became a member of the painting circles “Th. Pallady” and “Nicolae Tonitza” in Iași.
In 1979, as a student in the last year of high school, I participated in the Autumn Salon of Amateur Artists, organized in the same Art Gallery where, years ago, I used to go with my mother. I dreamed of being admitted to the University of Arts. In those years, there were only 5-6 places available, the competition was very high, and many of those enrolled were graduates of art high schools, with a strong specialized training. I enrolled in the Popular School of Arts, specializing in painting, and I graduated from its courses in the class of master Valeriu Gonceariuc.
Reading the book “The Technique of Painting” written by Marc Havel, in the early 80s, represented a very important moment in my evolution. I continued to paint and participate in various exhibitions, winning several awards.
In the fall of 2020, I stepped into the studio of the university Professor Dr. Constantin Tofan, with whom I began to dialogue about painting and art in general. This was certainly the defining moment in my artistic career. In 2022, I graduated from the master’s program, specializing in painting, organized by the “George Enescu” National University of Arts in Iași, and a year later, I was accepted as an intern member of the Union of Visual Artists of Romania – Iași branch.
Your recent exhibition, “Borders of the Soul,” explores profound dualities—freedom and constraint, light and darkness, life and death. What inspired you to delve into these specific themes, and how do they reflect your own experiences or worldview?
My existence is actually a continuous journey through space and time, sprinkled, at every step, with the most diverse life experiences. Lived both in small, sometimes isolated rural communities and in large urban agglomerations, in different socio-political contexts but in permanent contact with a great diversity of lifestyles, traditions, and customs. And reflected, of course, in my works of art. This duality, village-city, simplicity-complexity, naturalness-sophistication, religion-tradition, totalitarianism – democracy, constraint – freedom, health-illness, summarized simply in the binomial happiness-unhappiness, is constantly found in my works. And this is because the doctor, human or veterinary, lives in this “interval” between life and death, in a continuous struggle in which decisions are made in seconds and generate deep joys or dramas. It is a kind of timeless existence in which he, the decision-maker, must overcome his limits for life to triumph. Failures are part of life; they generate imbalances and sometimes renunciations. For the moment or forever. This is what my work is about.
Much of your work centers on portraits and the exploration of happiness—real, illusory, or even impossible. What compels you to investigate these aspects of the human condition, and how do you translate such abstract concepts into visual form?
Real, illusory happiness and even the impossibility of accessing happiness are part of life. I have met people everywhere, “experiencing” happiness in its various forms. I really wanted and had the chance in the years before the pandemic to travel to Western Europe, to the Nordic countries – inaccessible destinations before the fall of the communist regime in 1989. As a child, I had traveled abroad with my parents, but only to the “socialist” countries as they were called at the time (Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Hungary, the German Democratic Republic). A unique experience was the trips made to countries like Tunisia and Morocco. All this time, I continued to paint. With my soul, my subconscious is working in silence. All my works are fragments/sequences of life. I chose the portrait as my working tool because it represents our spiritual passport.
You’ve spoken about the loneliness pandemic, wars, and global conflicts. In what ways do these societal challenges influence the subjects you choose and the emotional tone of your work?
Many artists talk about a certain state of mind necessary for creation, a kind of peace of mind, a balance conducive to creation. I believe that truly good works are generated by situations of tension/crisis/discontent/lack of all kinds/imbalances that an artist goes through. These are essential in his determination to express himself, to transmit messages. Of course, they are also born when happiness is dominant as a state. But especially when suffering, pain, empathy are extremely strong. That is when works of force are born. As I was saying, I paint observing every moment what is happening around. It is a kind of X-ray of the present time. The images are later abandoned. Somewhere in the subconscious, connections are made with similar or contradictory images from the past. Cutouts, montages are made and at a moment when they were considered already forgotten, the recomposed images are placed on the canvas with amazing speed. I spend very little time at the easel; the works are usually done in one sitting. Reworking is rare and most often “ruins” the original work. So I avoid it. I have a medical problem that led me to give up the oil technique and experiment with mixed media.
Your research touches on the pathologizing of natural emotional states and behavioral patterns. How do you approach these complex psychological topics visually, and what reactions do you hope to evoke in your audience?
My artistic investigation is transdisciplinary, involving fields such as psychology, sociology, medicine, philosophy, and religion. In my dissertation titled “Happiness – illusion, obligation, impossibility?” I dedicated a chapter to psychotic and pseudopsychotic art. The period of the loneliness pandemic, followed by the viral one, the quarantine, and the wars have changed our behaviors, moving us away from the state of normality. My artistic concern in dealing with these subjects generated the works brought together in the series of four personal exhibitions entitled: “The day before Yesterday”, “Memories about Today”, ”Semicolon”, “I hear the matter crying…”.
Your artistic career spans a wide range of mediums and techniques. What informs your choice of medium for a particular piece, and how do different materials help you express nuanced ideas or emotions?
I have never set out to generate moods through my works. I have always considered them simple proposals addressed to the public, informed or not, the result of feelings/ moods expressed in my own way. From my point of view, what is important is what the public understands and how they interpret the work and not what the author wanted to say. Corneliu Baba, a remarkable master of Romanian portrait painting, said at an opening: “…I have heard so many things said here that I have never even thought about.”
Having exhibited internationally—from Venice to Barcelona, London, and beyond—how have your experiences in different cultural contexts shaped your artistic voice or the way you approach new work?
I have had personal exhibitions only in the country. Abroad, I have only participated in collective exhibitions, sending physical works or images of artworks. I do not sell my works; my works are not intended for commercialization. It is difficult for me to financially support my participation in international events, some of which are very important for the career of any artist. I was and I am supported by my family and that was and is very important for me, but not always enough. For example, at the Florence Biennale, the 14th and 15th editions, where I was selected, I could not participate because I did not have the necessary money. I was not present at the opening of collective exhibitions abroad, and I did not interact in any way with the other participating artists. It was a period in which I intensely followed the works of contemporary artists. This is good and it is not good. The subconscious works and is tempted to “copy and paste” at any time. The time pressure had become unbearable, and I risked that my goals of continuing to discover myself, completing a series of works in the concept stage, and perfecting my working techniques adequately would no longer be achieved. So I focused on my own path.
In your opinion, does art have the power to bridge communication gaps and erase barriers between people, especially in times of crisis? Can you share an example from your career where you witnessed this firsthand?
Art, using a universal language, is certainly a link in communication between people, regardless of the time and space they are in, their level of understanding or the culture they belong to. In 2021, in the midst of the pandemic, I traveled to Lisbon to see the “Meet Vincent van Gogh” exhibition taking place in Belem. There I would understand, firsthand, that art breaks down barriers and that the emotion at the sight of a table with some potatoes on it and a pair of boots underneath, reminiscent of the famous work “The Potato Eaters”, or felt in front of the projected images of Sunflowers, the Artist’s bedroom or The Starry Night is extremely powerful, the same for everyone present. Another example? The famous song released in 1985, “We are the world”. Which I’m listening to right now… And yes, “we are the people…”
Winning awards such as the “Lascăr Vorel” Biennale Prize and the “Gheorghe Petrașcu” Prize acknowledges your achievements. How do you personally define success as an artist?
The painting prize obtained at the “Lascar Vorel” National Fine Arts Biennial, the 2nd prize at the “Gheorghe Petrașcu” Art Biennial, which you are talking about, honors me and represents the jury’s appreciation for the works proposed and selected at these two events. Certainly, success in art is something more. Success, as a generic term, involves a series of validations in time. I believe that success in art involves an exceptional career, representative works, some of which are genial. But what are we talking about? About the share of works at auction houses? About visibility, recognizability, and success with the general public? About favorable specialist criticism and presence in TV/radio shows, the written press, and websites? Or about the value of the works’ message, the historical and documentary value in creating an archive?
Happiness—an illusion, an obligation, and an impossibility—recurs throughout your artist statement. How has your exploration of happiness evolved over your career? Do you believe that art can genuinely promise happiness, whether for the artist or the viewer?
Yes, art can generate, not just promise, happiness. We could enter into a broader discussion here, starting from the perception of happiness. Happiness is a temporal construct. Yes, happiness belongs to the creator, being initially offered through the act of creation itself, and then through the validation offered by the public, specialized criticism, art historians, market share, and collective memory. The viewer who finds himself in one way or another in the artist’s work and who continues it with his own life experience certainly becomes happy too.
Portraiture is central to your practice. What draws you to the human face, and how do you balance capturing an individual’s likeness with expressing universal themes or emotions?
We are mostly talking about archetypes, “about a hereditary dowry historically taken over and culturally assimilated”. A frequently discussed theme today is mixed identity. My works, portraits or not, cross the “space-time” construction, physiognomies, invoking the borders of the soul.
Looking ahead, what new concepts, mediums, or collaborations are you eager to explore? Are there boundaries—personal or artistic—that you hope to cross in your future work?
Future projects always exist, but I would like to talk about them only when they are realized. The boundaries exist only within us. Today, more than ever, anything becomes possible. We live in a reality that changes every second. “The future begins today.” As for techniques? I have been experimenting with collages for some time now. I look at installations with interest and notice that they are back in fashion. I am now reminded of the famous “Red Wagon” installation by artists Ilya and Emilia Kobakov from the 1990s and the anecdote that was circulating at the time: “The future is certain. Only the past is unpredictable.”
Thank you very much.
Images: Credit Dănuț Adrian Iași Chidon Frunză, Lockdown
Credit Dănuț Adrian Iași Chidon Frunză, Borders of Soul II.
Credit Dănuț Adrian Iași Chidon Frunză, Borders of Soul III
.
.
Explore a range of exclusive artworks and exhibitions from the talented artists showcased in our gallery! Visit Occhi Contemporary Art, where we highlight and support exceptional visual artists. Stay updated on the latest news, including Occhi exhibitions, collaborations, and artist exclusives. Don’t miss out!
About Author
