If Not, Not 1976

Editor: Right, so next up we have R.B. Kitaj's "If Not, Not," an oil painting from 1976. It's… well, it's definitely a lot. There's a landscape, figures scattered all over, and it's not exactly a cheerful scene. What do you even begin to make of something like this? Curator: Ah, Kitaj. This is a real invitation to wander into the artist’s psyche. It feels like a half-remembered dream, doesn’t it? Look at how he throws recognizable figures into an uncanny landscape. What draws you in the most? For me it is the combination of dread and familiarity. Editor: It's definitely the scattered figures that stand out – or perhaps fall out is more appropriate given the context. The arrangement seems so…random, disconnected. Do you think that arrangement holds any particular meaning? Curator: I feel like the randomness *is* the point, it feels like one of those times you think you see someone familiar, then realize you don’t…Kitaj loved layering references, literary and personal. Notice the fragmented narrative; it mirrors the uncertainties and anxieties of the modern condition. He draws from T.S. Eliot’s "The Waste Land", evoking a sense of post-war unease and intellectual searching, I think. Editor: Post-war unease – that makes a lot of sense seeing this depicted. I never would have connected it to "The Waste Land" initially, though. Is there a kind of personal reflection here too? Curator: Absolutely. Kitaj was grappling with his own identity as an American Jewish artist navigating a complex world. So, there's this tension between belonging and alienation, which you can also see in the uneasy juxtaposition of dreamscape and reality. What did you feel as your initial emotional reaction? Editor: It was unnerving and a little unsettling! But now, knowing more about the layers, I can feel this tension and that makes the image more appealing. Curator: Indeed! Once you've picked away the layers, what once seemed disjointed becomes an incredibly resonant personal statement.