Plusch’s project, created especially for the Galerie RX, is called “The Ministry of Love”, no doubt a reference to George Orwell’s novel “1984”. Even the titles of the paintings include the number 101, the room in which the most important part of the book’s narrative unfolds. However, let’s not seek direct connotations here: Plusch has not illustrated the novel – still relevant today, which in the opinion of many critics is one of the greatest in the history of mankind. Partially in[1]spired by this book, he presents his own set of metaphors in an attempt to find today a myth that would resonate with our recent past. At the base of these metaphors, however, lie very personal experiences and impressions, namely documentary footage, sketches and impressions of Rzhev – a small provincial town in the Tver Region, somewhere halfway between Moscow and St. Peters[1]burg. Rzhev is the epitome of provinciality in every sense; the images of this place were used by Mikhail Saltykov-Shchedrin, the great Russian writer-satirist of the 19th century, to create his “town of Glupov”. Today’s Rzhev, which still retains traces of stagnation from the 19th century, owes much of its dull atmosphere to the Soviet past – its houses, parks, front gardens and roads remind one of the hopeless world in which Orwell’s heroes live. Plusch introduces his own heroes – most peculiar characters, only the detailed description of whom would make up a novel or comic book series. There is a lone man mowing the asphalt as if it were grass; a character in a baby’s hat with bunny ears; men rolling a lump of meat like dung beetles; and other figures, no less bizarre, with many fascinating details. What they do is meaningless. Although important characters, they do not play the main role in the artist’s intricate narrative. Their figures are blurred, as if they are melting or being consumed by fire right before our eyes; as if the absurdity of what they do compels the artist to erase them, as does ruthless Time. The grey monochrome landscape, the grim setting of the post-totalitarian drama, is of paramount importance in all cases. It emphasises the timeless[1]ness of what is happening, reminding us that our whole life can be saturated with such subtle evil absurdity, no matter where and when it unfolds.

The combination of colourful figures and the black and white background (as if cov[1]ered in ice) is symbolic in itself. The frozen landscape with the moving figure – is an image that evokes more than the texts of Orwell, Saltykov-Shchedrin or Plusch. It urges us to break the vicious circle and come out of the stupor in which each finds himself yet more and more frequently in spite of (though, perhaps because of) the abundance of various means of communication. In fact, the artist focuses our attention on the irreversible and destructive work of Time... Could there be a more burning and inescapable issue for each of us?