„Missed Moment” by Mózes Incze thickens time. Stationarity dominates everything, the sitting figure in the foreground and the stone standing in front of him. The clouds and smoke wreathing behind him, the lifeless grey body, the white feather are floating with ease, but the strained permanence int them doesn’t permits motion. The lights and shadows, the bodies and the fold are stiffen.

The sand-glass in front of the main figure reports the suspicion which encompasses the whole picture: time has been stopped on the painting. Mózes Incze locked temporality into this tiny object. The sand cannot twirl because of the status of the sand-glass.

Windup the passing of time raises a question: what is that missed moment the title refers to? Is it possible to talk about moments, if time doesn’t pass, if the chain of momentary nows is torn?

The sand-glass on a key-holder becomes the actual key to the painting. The lens of the camera, holded by the blindfold figure is also aiming at it. It is laying on a surface, overtopping from the space of the picture, if it would tilt down, passing of time, running of the world, lives of the people in the paiting could start over. Maybe the photographer is waiting for this, he wants to record this inevitable moment. Hope of the shifting of the sand-glass is holded up by tender brushstrokes, but the blindness of the man with the camera is hamstring it. He wouldn’t be able to see the change, he will not have loophole from this closed space. The thick timelessness, weighing on the painting by Mózes Incze is only understandable through the lines of Attila József: „Blue, yellow, red, they flocked my dream,/ smudged images the mind had taken,/ I felt the cosmic order gleam-/ and not a speck of dust was shaken.”

photo: Misi

written by: Zsófi Máté

Missed moments (190×140cm, oil on canvas, 2011)