In his atelier in the attic in Martićeva Street, I ask the wise and quiet painter Oskar Herman what he thinks happens later. Darkness, darkness, he replies readily. Indeed, some of the dark colours on his paintings strike me much more than the others, as if he has finally inhabited them himself. However, I rarely see them under normal circumstances, since I don’t frequent galleries and his paintings are nowhere else to be seen. More often I encounter him when I raise my hand heavy with sleep to turn off the lights. Oh, darkness, darkness – I say then – be gentle to him, be gentle to all of us.
Translated from the Croatian by Damir Šodan