hundreds of various acts that REGNER offers in his paintings could
almost be a series of somewhat fantastic fables, but while fables lead
to a moral conclusion, REGNER's work holds us suspended in the false
and precarious balance of a present for the time being held in the
midst of an anxious questioning. .
He does not give us the answer but involves us in a situation that we
feel would be resolved, irremediably, (diabolically we might even say),
in the immediate future. The pendulum, for a second, stops; his
characters, not very frightening, and sometimes suffused with a sort of
mocking joviality, attend to their own business.
At first, we gaze at their stratagems and find them amusing, but
slowly, gently, a nameless anxiety creeps in. The scene appears to be
imbued with a sort of warm comfort, dressed up with enchanting colors
and the monster-actors themselves seem well-matched with the innocent
female figures in a world temporarily harmonious.
And yet, we feel that the slightest movement of a line or the slightest
gesture would start the motion of the pendulum and the monsters would
bare their fangs and claws to tear us apart... or would secrete a slimy
and urticant substance capable of digesting us... or they would simply
melt our inner personalities as if they'd used Nessus's tunic.