Betrayal 2018

Soltan Soltanlı's painting, "Betrayal," feels like a fable, a story told in thick, almost childlike strokes of acrylic on canvas. The artist isn’t trying to hide the process of making the image; it’s all right there, in the way the colors butt up against each other. There’s a flatness to the landscape, but the horses are so lively, each one a different hue – ochre, chestnut, ebony. The fallen riders slung over their saddles add a strange, unsettling note, the cool blues and greys contrasting with the earthy palette of the animals and the field. Look at the archer, that pose, the angle of the bow! It’s so direct, so lacking in flourish. It brings to mind the work of someone like Phillip Guston, that same blend of narrative heft and a deliberately crude, almost awkward handling of the paint. It’s a reminder that art doesn’t need to be slick or polished to pack a punch. It’s about the feeling, the story, and the willingness to let the process show.