Untitled 1971

Editor: So this untitled oil painting is by Abidin Dino, from 1971. The impasto application of paint makes it feel weighty, almost sculptural, but the swirling patterns give it a kind of dreamlike quality. How do you interpret this work? Curator: The repetition in those swirling patterns feels almost cellular, doesn't it? It suggests an underlying order even within apparent chaos. To me, it speaks of landscape, or perhaps memory. What landscapes come to your mind when viewing it? Editor: I can see that. Maybe a hilly coastline? I’m struck by the blend of the micro, like those cell-like patterns, with the macro, a vast scene of the hills. What might that blend symbolize? Curator: Precisely. Dino plays with scale, linking the individual to the universal, internal thoughts reflecting an external world. Notice how the lighter path guides the eye – an opening for introspection or the journey of life? How do the colors affect that symbolic pathway? Editor: That’s really interesting. The colors are subdued, almost melancholic, but the path is lighter, suggesting hope perhaps? Curator: Perhaps it reflects on the continuity of nature, suggesting persistence through art even during turbulent personal times or across decades of Turkish socio-political changes. The symbolism offers a personal reflection within grand context. The symbolism, that intersection between personal expression and collective memory, continues to resonate even now. Editor: It’s amazing how much is packed into something seemingly so abstract. I hadn't considered those intersections of scale, individual with the landscape; I appreciate learning a way into that layering of imagery. Curator: And understanding how symbols evolve helps us bridge cultures and history. There are more hidden depths there as well.