Untitled 2005

Curator: Here we have an untitled drawing by Julie Mehretu, created in 2005. It's rendered in graphite, offering a glimpse into her exploration of abstraction and organic forms. What strikes you first about it? Editor: Well, it feels almost like a whispered secret. There's a delicate, ethereal quality that pulls you in. Is it a cloud? A memory? It's vague, yet somehow insistent. Like smoke made of thought. Curator: Interesting observation. Mehretu's work often layers meaning, drawing from architectural renderings and cityscapes. However, here the overt structure is gone, leaving us with pure, suggestive form. Does it connect with any visual traditions for you? Editor: Definitely, I'm seeing echoes of calligraphic brushstrokes. You know, the kind that suggest landscapes without actually depicting them. A wisp of mountain here, a suggestion of water there... but broken apart. Deconstructed. Maybe it’s an erasure. Curator: Indeed, calligraphy's emphasis on line and movement resonates. But I think Mehretu also challenges the loaded cultural symbols often tied to such traditions. Her abstraction allows for a more open, individual interpretation, inviting the viewer to project their own associations. There’s a sort of collective amnesia at play as we build meaning around these suggestive figures. Editor: I like that—"collective amnesia". Because I am feeling like I should recognize this image; it has that resonance, but I just cannot grab on to where it connects for me. The technique almost enhances the distance, the uncertainty… each stroke like a breath, building to something fleeting. Does that make sense? Curator: Perfectly. The layered graphite certainly contributes to that feeling. In terms of psychology, it resembles Rorschach images. An invitation, or even an ambush of suggestion. And yet there’s control here, consider the consistent hand—suggesting she’s presenting a ghost from the subconscious, or conjuring one into existence. Editor: Absolutely. It’s not chaos, it’s carefully orchestrated ambiguity. So, leaving behind structure can lead to the building up of emotion—a raw connection to something unspoken, something beyond concrete images. It feels vulnerable. Curator: Precisely. By stripping away familiar references, Mehretu forces us to confront the underlying energy, the emotional residue embedded within form. This might be the emotional echo from what a landscape or cityscape once was… but only the sensitive spirit within. Editor: Well, now I feel as if I’m seeing those original forms lurking just behind the curtain of graphite. Now I am also seeing possibilities… it does feel quite loaded in a peculiar way. Curator: Indeed, quite haunting as well, the longer I look.