Where Expression Refuses To Be Refined
When I think about raw posters, I am not thinking about something unfinished. I am thinking about something that has not been softened. Raw posters emerge from a point where expression is still close to its origin, before it becomes organised into something more controlled. There is a directness in this process that I try not to interfere with too much. The image carries the trace of how it was made, and that trace remains visible rather than hidden.
The Gesture Before The Image
In many early visual traditions, the gesture came before the image itself. Marks were made as part of ritual, repetition, or instinct, not as a way to represent something accurately. I often return to this idea when working on raw posters. The line does not describe—it acts. It records movement, pressure, hesitation, or intensity. In Slavic folk traditions, repeated marks were believed to hold protective or transformative power. That relationship between gesture and meaning still feels relevant to me.
Imperfection As A Form Of Precision
Raw posters do not aim for visual perfection. Edges may remain uneven, forms may feel incomplete, and the composition may not fully stabilise. But this lack of refinement is not a mistake. It is a different kind of precision—one that stays closer to the initial impulse. When everything is too resolved, something essential can be lost. I am more interested in preserving the moment where the image still feels alive.
The Body Within The Mark
Even without a visible figure, raw posters are deeply connected to the body. Every line carries a physical quality—the speed of a movement, the pressure of a hand, the pause before continuing. In many cultural traditions, visual marks were understood as extensions of the body rather than separate from it. I see this connection clearly in my own work, where the image retains a sense of presence that is not purely visual, but almost tactile.
Repetition As Intensification
Repetition appears in raw posters not as decoration, but as accumulation. A form repeated multiple times begins to shift in meaning. It can create rhythm, but it can also create pressure. In ritual practices, repetition was used to deepen focus and intensify experience. I follow a similar logic in visual form, where repetition builds emotional density rather than simply organising the composition.
Color That Does Not Apologise
Color in raw posters is not always balanced or harmonious. It can feel abrupt, dense, or even excessive. I do not try to correct this. Instead, I let color behave in a way that matches the intensity of the image. In many traditional visual systems, color carried strong symbolic associations, but it also had a physical presence. It could dominate, interrupt, or transform the image. I treat color in a similar way—as something active rather than controlled.
A State That Remains Open
Raw posters do not arrive at a final, polished state. They remain open, carrying the energy of their own making. I am not interested in closing the image completely or resolving every tension within it. What matters to me is that the image continues to feel immediate, as if it is still in the process of becoming. That sense of openness is what defines unfiltered expression—it is not about lack of control, but about allowing something to remain true to its origin.
