[...]
Zim’s choices
– the statement, the concealment, the avoidance, the transfer of the
eyesight onto the paper or canvas through a quick étude performed vis-à-vis
nature, the construction of the image as an encounter between form and
symbols in the service of some metaphor – belong in the broader field
of modernism. Zim the artist, however, who is, as aforesaid, not bound
by any ideology, tiptoes through that field as if through raindrops.
The conflicts always remain in the background, between manual work and
the wisdom of the heart. Aïm Lüski once justly placed Zim's choices
between the options introduced by Ardon and Zaritsky, between punctilious
dexterity on the one hand and free offhandedness on the other. To this
I would like to add: between Zaritsky's sensory-tactile light and Ardon's
"inner", graphic light [...]
Excerpt
from: "Reflections upon the Commencement of a Book" by Yona
Fischer
Zim’s paintings represent the meeting point of two deeply held attitudes
of two essentials that exist side by side in dialectical tension: the
yearning for the absolute, for values beyond the “self”, perhaps even
beyond history itself, a desire expressed in a move toward the abstract;
and the tacit commitment to a time and place, the duty to nurture and
maintain the connection between art and life. It is the tension between
these two essentials that endows his work with a concrete/universal
depth, and enables it to embrace the absolute and abstract in the down-to-earth
landscapes of the ephemeral and particular. As the conflict between
the two opposite poles is never resolved, the dialectic between the
eye that sees and the hand that paints remains intact, and is the fulcrum
of the drive and artistic power of Jakob Zim’s paintings.
Miriam
Or. From the introduction to the catalogue of the exhibition “New Paintings”,
Holon Museum of Art, 1996
Before any attempt
at an understanding or leisurely observation of Zim's paintings, the
viewer is first inundated by color; a strong stream of color seems to
wash over us, bursting forth from the canvas. Each tone, even the quietest
grays - to say nothing of the bold reds, greens, and blues - stands
out more clearly on the canvas than in any natural context. Zim places
them side by side so that one accentuates the other, "drawing it
out", activating it, and brushing off the cobwebs of the obvious.
His colors are his subjects. They are not "the colors of things"
(the red of poppies or blood, the blue of the sea or sky), but the colors
of colors. He seeks to galvanize the red tones so that from within the
red, something is said that has never been said before, as if the treasure
troves of the different reds held stifled messages, successions of meaning
just waiting for the moment to be given expression [...]
Excerpt
from: "When Colors Speak" by Ariel Hirschfeld