Untitled 

Curator: This piece, an untitled work by Zdzislaw Beksinski, presents a visceral, unsettling vision crafted with oil paint and exhibiting matter-painting qualities. What springs to mind when you first see it? Editor: Oh, that’s a mouthful, isn’t it? Initially, I get a sense of overwhelming dread—almost biblical in its scale of destruction and despair. It looks like a bad dream someone feverishly sketched before forgetting the specific terror but never shaking the feeling. Curator: Beksinski, who never titled his works or offered interpretations, allows for intensely personal readings. Considering its matter-painting label, notice how the textured application of paint creates a rough, almost decaying surface. This technique reflects the abjection in the image. It blurs lines between high art and base materials. Editor: Absolutely. I notice it—the city in the background seems to melt into this horrific open mouth, as if one is consuming the other. The process of decay is integral here; you can almost smell the rot and ruin. What is most arresting is the hordes flowing from that maw. They resemble emaciated souls more than bodies, tumbling out as a dark premonition of civilization devoured from the inside. Curator: The monochrome color palette, largely brown and ochre tones, contributes to this mood of decay, underscoring themes of mortality and oblivion so resonant within expressionism and surrealism. Such aesthetics may respond directly to Beksinski’s experience growing up in war-torn Poland—perhaps the visualization of cultural trauma as substance. Editor: Yes, that resonates strongly. It’s as if the collective horrors of war and totalitarian regimes seeped into his artistic process, manifested not as clear political statement but raw emotional impact. There are ghosts lingering around Beksinski´s creation; the symbolic and material textures evoke profound emotional weight. What I feel it imparts is that history, especially the bleak chapters, consume both body and spirit. Curator: His art forces us to consider art production as an existential form—visceral proof against nihilism. Editor: Well said. Thank you. Now if you excuse me, I may need something lighter now—maybe a floral still life?