The spine that twists under an invisible burden is a motif that appears again and again in Vićentić’s paintings as an unsettling realization. The mechanism that controls the painter controls both the object of the painting and the eye of the beholder. We are hypnotized by the moon, twisted and bent in an impossible position while we feel: how horns grow from our skull, how our skeleton grows, how a larva turns into a butterfly, how the object of our secret desires turns into line and color. Vićentić does not compromise when he paints: dead love is painted with charcoal and the dead are painted with love. Vićentić’s painting is honest and authentic, it came from neo-expressionism, now it is no longer necessary to define it. The pictures do not need legends to explain them. But the Moon is needed in order to finally see the painter, to recognize his self, when the tide finally lifts him above the sharp sea cliffs. And this is where the painter reveals himself to us as a fragile, sensitive being questioned above the chasm that divides us. The painter is not a guide, nor a dog, nor is that his intention. The painter’s intention is to illuminate the abyss, not to lead us along the paths. If our head falls off, if our spine falls out, if we cannot recognize ourselves, if we magically go astray, the painter has done enough for us. Otherwise, the painter clearly tells us: There is no way back from the skin we grow up in, there is no escape from the small town, there is no escape from love, there is no way out of obsession, we are already in the home computer screen, we are riveted to the image just like cloth.

–Aleksandar Bandović