If the art is observed first of all as a projection then, naturally, it is discovered in its ambiguity. That is the case with Nikola Kovacevic whose lifelike work oscillates between nuanced flagrant abstraction and analogue perception made of stirring areas/abstractions enabling to guess organic and objective meanings. Here, indecisive sketch of inarticulate persons, there, shade of a ship in the fog, a little further away, a little corner of the sky calming or threatening, but basically, that endlessly growing writing is forged exactly in surpassing of appearance, not in identification of the target reality.

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However, trembling and transhumane masses of Nikola Kovacevic, woven from gap forests of particles and spots, commas and notches, dashes and pieces set on bright backgrounds, can remind of the buzzing of a swarm of bees, or sometimes, of some aggregate of belligerent cephalopods. But out of these interpretations, the exactness of artistic rhythms of these partitions and expressive power of their space arrangement has to be underlined. Because, just on these territories at the same time light and heaped up, the painting rules and attracts attention only to itself. Observing the course of its sprinkling over the canvas, it does not leave itself to a hand's fall, appeals of the innocent, nor at least to chromatic wonderings.

Flexible and spontaneous, the gesture still remains controlled, nervous and decisive, while the light is absorbed by each pore of the frame. And in spite of numerous signs and cascading spirals "watering" support on the move, the drawing never loses its fluidity and unity, because it relies on intuitive order that does not contradict resorting to imaginary.

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We shouldn't be surprised by removed and polypherative inspiration lauding throng of their compositions, as we understood that this Montenegrin painter, Parisian over a decade, knew how to link Mediterranean threads with passion of a Slovenian soul. So, decisively attached to the pleasure of painting, he does not make a sacrifice to dramatics of circumstances and first of all sticks to his own "credo": clarity of act, dosing of dividing up its unities, reaching the harmony, adequacy of forms and colours, strict frames, the feeling for synthesis and, finally, osmosis in mind and body. 

The painter of temperament, and first of all a great drawer, Nikola Kovacevic is not trying to seduce, but to interpret his inner dizziness, with help of final touches and cordial and convincing zeal.

Gerard Xuriguera