Alma Čače presents two performances as part of her “Natural Imperfections” project.
What if the most important tool in the studio isn’t something you buy, but something you find?
For the Split-based artist Alma Čače, the answer often begins outside the studio. She doesn’t buy her brushes — she makes them. Driftwood, dried plants, leaves and other fragments gathered from the landscape, particularly along the shores of the island of Vis where she grew up, are transformed into unconventional painting tools. Their shapes are irregular and their movements can never be completely controlled. When they meet the canvas, they leave behind traces that are just as unexpected: marks, textures and fragments of plant matter that sometimes remain caught in the paint, becoming an almost unnoticeable signature of nature within the work.
This relationship between nature, material and chance lies at the heart of “Natural Imperfections” — an ongoing project that Alma Čače has been developing since 2020 through artistic research, exhibitions, workshops and performances. Rather than trying to eliminate imperfections, the project embraces them. The irregularity of a handmade brush becomes part of the image; an accidental mark becomes part of the composition; something that might ordinarily be considered a mistake is given space to remain.
For the two performances taking place in the heart of Diocletian’s Palace on September 9, 2026, this openness extends beyond the materials themselves. The paintings will be made in public, exposed not only to the unpredictable behaviour of natural tools, but also to the unpredictable encounters of everyday life.
The morning performance, taking place beside the Roman mosaic in the Ulica Frane Bulića 5, will be performed by Alma alone. In the evening, however, at Severova 3–1, passers-by will be invited to take part. Using Alma’s handmade brushes, they will be able to approach the canvas spread across the ground and leave their own marks.
Here, the idea of the “natural imperfection” takes on another dimension. A brush may bend differently than expected. A piece of dried plant may catch in the paint. A stroke may move in an unintended direction. And then there is the passer-by: someone who stops for a moment, picks up a brush and makes a gesture that neither the artist nor anyone else could have planned in advance.
The resulting work is therefore shaped by a series of encounters — between the artist and her materials, between nature and paint, and between strangers and the artwork itself. What emerges cannot be fully predicted or repeated. Every mark records a moment that happened only once.
Moving the project from the studio and gallery into the streets of Split is important for this very reason: in public space, the artistic process is no longer something we encounter only after it has been completed — it unfolds in front of us, with all its uncertainty, interruptions and possibilities. The boundary between artist and audience becomes thus less fixed, while the act of making becomes something that can be shared.
There is no particular skill required to participate. No correct gesture, no perfect stroke, no expectation of artistic experience. Just the willingness to stop, pick up a handmade brush and make a mark.
Perhaps that is where “Natural Imperfections” ultimately finds its meaning: not in producing a perfect image, but in making room for everything that cannot be perfectly controlled. Nature, chance, other people, and the small accidents of everyday life are not obstacles to the artwork, but what makes it alive and interesting.
The performances are funded by the City of Split.
Diocletian’s Palace
Ulica Frane Bulića 5; Severova 3–1, Split