Poezja Stasysa

Ikko Tanaka, 9.01.2002, Tokyo

[...] l think it was around 1983 when l visited Stasys's home in Warsaw. He wasn't home, unfortunately. l forget who showed me around, but there, in this little studio, l was astonished to find drawings in progress piled all over the studio, on the shelves, on the desk and even on the floor. And each sheet spilt forth poetry, almost as if they were living things. l remember being struck breathless by the density of the space.
The figures Stasys draws, taking the form of birds, or flowers, perhaps turning their faces into musical instruments and playing upon it, or keeping silent within a box-like object, have an air of infinite possibility, as if they might even gallop off into the sky itself. Seeing these metamorphoses is at once surprising and frightening. They tease us, coyly and terrifyingly, mixing the earth of Lithuania with the wind of Warsaw. These scenes, with their originality and mystery, captivate me. [...]