Playing Under the Sea

The Chilean poet was a passionate admirer of the great body of water. For him, it represented the archetypal beginning and end of all things. Neruda’s fascination grew into poetic expression and a symbolic sign. This refers to Casa de Isla Negra, one of his three houses on the coast of the city of El Quisco. With its exterior and interior design, narrow corridors, steep stairways, wooden floors, and wide windows, the house resembles a ship.

Neruda filled it with model ships, maps, ships in bottles, and other objects. He placed his large collection of shells in a room called Bajo el mar (Under the Sea). In photographs, he is mostly shown wearing strict, formal clothing, in keeping with his role as a politician and diplomat. In a smaller number of photographs, he wears the characteristic Breton shirt worn by sailors and fishermen, as well as artists such as Picasso and Tomislav Ostman.

Tomislav, too, could be called a student of the sea. In it, he finds lasting inspiration and the foundation of his artistic identity. His focus is directed toward life in and on the sea. The first perspective presents ships and sailors and their recognizable striped, blue-and-white shirts. The scene begins with spontaneous, optimistic figuration and gradually shifts toward an abstract understanding of the painterly gesture. The second perspective focuses on life in the sea—the animal and plant world that develops within it.

This interest is especially evident in works from recent years. On a green or multicolored, gesturally dynamic background, he draws a school of fish. Reduced to basic lines and circles, the execution offers no room for pictograms. Such an approach creates a universal openness. By avoiding excessive description, the work becomes easier to read clearly, regardless of the viewer’s distance, while also allowing for variation.

Minimal variations—the thickening of lines and changes in the details of the eyes, which are marked by a black dot or a blue circle containing a compressed black dot—determine the rhythm of the composition, as well as the possibility of expanding the cycle. For example, the background gradually changes into the recognizable blue of ultramarine, a shade Tomislav most often uses. The fish are recorded in different sizes and are still simple in form, while other organisms, quite logically, join them.

Finally, the cycle developed into a site-specific installation. A series of paintings merges into a unified whole placed in the iconic atrium of the Croatian Natural History Museum. A large body of water appears to flow through the space, spilling over the monumental Zagreb marble arches and other fascinating marine wonders. The realist model is contrasted by Ostman’s playful marine imagination of the animal and plant world.

His visual language becomes increasingly free, no longer burdened by dry, monotonous literalness. The stylization is comparable to the handwriting that dominated the early works of the Zagreb School of Animated Film. These are the distinctive loops and other details that critics noticed in Tomislav’s work, including Enes Quien. His use of closely related blue tones is linked to Juan Miró. However, except for references, the only interpretation of the reading is based on Ostman’s authorial development. It is guided by cheerfulness, unpretentious playfulness, and learning from an ancient and wise teacher—the sea.