Past 

Editor: This is Koshiro Onchi's print titled "Past," an abstract linocut of geometric shapes from seemingly disparate halves. The contrast is striking. What’s your take on what he’s doing here? Curator: The past, huh? Interesting title. I see it as a visual poem. Imagine a memory half-formed, represented by that bold, graphic black against the textured woodgrain. It is like the wood grain remembers; do you see the little circles there? Like wood-knot eyes observing everything? Editor: Yes, now that you point it out, I do! The composition creates a really intriguing visual tension, almost like two different worlds colliding. Curator: Exactly! It’s not just contrast; it’s a conversation. A conversation between the precision of memory’s abstraction on the left and the natural textures on the right. Consider this. What shapes persist? Look closely... How do you perceive that interplay? Editor: Hmmm, it almost feels as though one form is fighting the other in its natural state. I mean...there’s so much juxtaposition: sharp angles against organic curves. The line, though, it really pulls it all together! Curator: Yes, but it’s more than that! Look how it defies the distinction on either side...it unifies. Do you feel the way it hints that memories are not concrete, or neatly categorized; memories bleed. They evolve! I get a sensation, too, from that central ovoid form of what is contained, what is known, and that's exciting to me! What might it be? Editor: That makes sense. Now that I think about it, the past isn't linear. This linocut kind of visualizes that perfectly, right? What does abstraction in the print *tell* us about *Past* itself? Curator: It whispers that meaning isn't fixed. Onchi gives us the stage; it's up to us, darling, to fill it. What story do YOU bring? I hope the visual whispers have gotten you thinking…and seeing, newly.