Peter Dvorský o Danielovi Bidelnicovi

In 1967 I started studying singing at the Conservatoire in Bratislava. I took up residence at the dormitory nicknamed the Funeral Institution of National Health. At that time Dano Bidelnica, a thin, dark-haired and bearded odd fellow gave the impression of a self-centred person. I remember his brisk footsteps and a pile of drawings under his arm. To tell the truth, I did not know his name for quite a while. However, he gave the impression of a calm and even-tempered man who pursues his aim. In winter his face was covered with a scarf and he wore huge caps as a typical painter. After years I discovered him; not in Bratislava but in the High Tatras. Vincent Polakovič and distinguished guests from the Netherlands opened the Yellow House of Vincent van Gogh in Poprad and Dano presented his art. It was a beautiful day, full of vivid colours and enthused faces. Dano praised his wife Maria and I praised my Marta. In five minutes we recollected our studies in Bratislava and soon had the feeling that we had not parted for twenty years. I immediately ordered one of the paintings on show and was lucky because other pictures travelled to the Netherlands. Since then I have The Birth of Day at home. It hangs in my study and when I am drained of energy or in no mood for anything, I stand in front of the picture to recharge my energy. I found the lost sun. Daniel’s paintings fill me with optimism. He toys with warm bright colours and brings joy to his surroundings. It results from his character and philosophy, though I know that not every day in his life was so joyous and colourful. But one thing is sure: his pictures are dominated by the animalistic thirst for life, not to hurt anyone but to discover for the benefit of us all. I am pleased that he is on the same wavelength with Marika, a beautiful woman and a special friend. Their joint trips around the world in the real and figurative sense enrich all of us. After all, I knew that boy from the dormitory very well. I admire his art and believe that my art can elevate him spiritually. Dano often goes to the theatre, to operas and concerts which inspire the themes of his future paintings. The Muses dance together at Mount Parnassus. I am aware of that because it often happens to me on my visits to galleries: I view a painting and can feel the vibration of melody. Every brush stroke of my friend is the baton of a new musical composition. To mention all the senses (I already mentioned love for a woman), Dano and I have a joint liking for another art. We are fascinated by good food and delicious wine. Yet there is the rub. While Dano is still slim, I will never be like that. As inseparable friends we sometimes meet not only at home but also abroad. Work, concerts, exhibitions and holidays. Our meetings are more cordial, may be it is because we have the right to remember. Sparkles of mischief and warmth sparkle from beneath Dano’s thick eyebrows. He knows how to appeal to the viewer. “I painted this for joy, for life, for you.” If a person is a real connoisseur, he is one in art as well.

Peter Dvorský

Maestro Tenor