Aleksander Peca: 42

In 42, Aleksander Peca opens portals into parallel universes where baroque meets robots, geishas blend with latex, and pop culture tangos with hyperreality. A visual journey that’s ironic, provocative, and nothing like you expected.

Introductory Note: If you were expecting a conventional exhibition, with paintings politely hanging on walls, you’re in the wrong place. Upon entering the gallery, you might feel as though you’re being watched. Or worse, judged. And you’d be right. The depictions are so convincing, you’ll check twice whether you’re actually in a gallery or if you’ve accidentally stepped into a parallel universe.

About the artist: Aleksander Peca, a painter from Nova Gorica, studied at the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice, where he likely convinced his professors that his portraits were real people who somehow got stuck in canvas. His art blends Western and Eastern pop culture, subculture, and topics that are usually not discussed over dinner. Or even on a first date. Aleksander’s paintings are like visual cocktails: a bit of baroque, a pinch of robots, a hint of geishas, and a drop of latex—all mixed with samurai precision. They’re like portals into worlds where reality trips over its own shoes and pop culture tangoes with baroque theatricality.

What to expect: The title itself hints that nothing is quite solid underfoot. In a galaxy where most art is safely stored within predictable frames, Peca appears as an interstellar imp, flinging paint onto canvas with mischievous precision and a slightly odd grin. His oil paintings are like hyperrealistic space guides, leading you through scenes where female bodies, sometimes idealized to dazzling perfection, meet unexpected angles and compositions. Peca’s canvases are a hybrid of photorealism and dream logic, where the laws of physics and social norms politely ask for time off. He plays with taboos like shards of broken mirrors, polished with irony and a mildly perverse curiosity. The figures are positioned as if they’ve been caught in the moment right before something important—perhaps the unveiling of a great secret, or just before they begin to speak. His works are both dazzling and slightly eerie, like a bar at the end of the universe serving Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters with a taste of nostalgia and a dash of the forbidden. Aleksander enjoys playing the role of voyeur, and therein lies the charm of his painting: you never quite know whether you’re the observer or part of the story. Or maybe both? He’s an artist who doesn’t just paint pictures, but creates worlds where every detail is both a joke and a mystery. And that, dear travelers of artistic galaxies, is something worth a brief stop—perhaps with a towel in hand, just in case.