TALES OF A DREAM MASTER

Every summer hundreds of the hopeful go in search of the magical and mystical, a land where Celtic myths and legends still come true. Eventually they find it, not having slain dragons and trudged the deepest dungeons, but, instead, at the end of a surprisingly well kept French road. They descend into the Magic Cave - a world of dancing elves, sleeping beauties, singing violins, melting candles and eternal dusk and down. - and become the guests of the Keeper of Argondia: Reon.
Reon Argondian is a painter, sculptor and a dreamer. Although he was born 45 years ago in Prague, and raised as Jan Zahradnik, it wasn't until he left the country in 1968 changed his name and settled down in France that he became known among art fans and critics.
He firmly denies, however, that his flying violins, stretching pianos and dozing-off chess pieces are products of hallucinogens.
"I tried it a long time ago and I believe that everybody should. But my paintings are my own visions, my own dreams."
His style, he says, has been determined by his private visions, not by writers such as J. R. R. Tolkien and his books such as The Hobbit. It has evolved and keeps evolving he says, asserting that he has never wallowed in fantasy for its own sake. "Evolution means there is no place for decadence."
In 1968, he left Czechoslovakia for a summer stay in Italy. When he heard that tanks had rolled into the streets of Prague that August, be decided to stay abroad.
After Italy, he had a short stay in Switzerland as a restorer of paintings.
"I stayed as long as possible in order to learn the most about the old techniques and as short as possible because I wanted to start painting on my own. In the end, I couldn't stand living in Switzerland any longer. You know the Swiss, they would have their lives designed by a computer if they could ... It was Switzerland I had to escape from, not Czechoslovakia," he says. "In Brittany, I found people living still in the Middle Ages," he continues. "I immediately knew this was the right place for me."
Argondia was only a dream till Reon found the spot where he felt it could come true, in the heart of the Quénécan forest near Pontivy in Brittany. Reon's millcave is only one of a large complex of buildings and sanctuaries, laced with streams and dotted with statues that are open to everybody. However, Reon is gar from being a fanatic denying the existence of civilization. He owns a car, a telephone, a TV, he pays taxes and Argondia is supplied with electricity.
He says that he chooses his way of life because it suits him. The same way as he chooses to wear outlandish costumes: because he feels comfortable in them.
"The invisible mysterious bridge between a spectator and a painting, and a spectator and a painter is absolutely individual . . ."