Rob Birza

Rob Birza (Geldrop, 1962) is a stylistic anarchist for whom no technique or medium is out of bounds, from paintings and installations to theatre sets and ceramics. His art is baroque and bold, ironic and self-deprecating, yet can be quite moving at the same time. He playfully subverts painterly traditions and wilfully ignores the rules of modernism (see for example: I hate Brancusi and The Red Play). For him, every artwork is a ‘convergence of energy’ that brings together a wide range of disparate experiences and impressions.

Birza finds his motifs in all manner of places: in museums, on the street and during his travels. Flea markets are a particularly rich source of inspiration. Such markets are the place where culture is sold on the cheap, where worthless trinkets lie side by side with valuable objects. Much of what he buys there – from designer lamps to tacky paraphernalia – winds up in his crowded atelier and in new work. Birza also draws freely from styles and artists throughout art history, extending to non-Western traditions and mass culture as well (see Untitled and Cosy monsters from inner space (no.11)).

After making his début in the 1980s with large, nonchalantly constructed paintings in matte tints, he quickly expanded his horizons. In his hands, ordinary materials such as carpets, hubcaps and bath mats were transformed into colourful, rhythmic compositions (see Cool Blankets III). Later, he began painting scenes from the war in Afghanistan as critical commentary on the skewed portrayal in the media after 9-11. He also produced abstract paintings featuring floating circles and exuberant ceramic works. All of Birza’s works skirt the line between figuration and abstraction.

His rich oeuvre is brimming with paradoxes: order that reveals itself to be chaos; the spiritual that becomes sensual; and the sublime that merges with the banal. As a result, his work is both challenging and generous.