The On-Top Ruler, 2020: a reading in seven lenses
Acrylic on thick paper, 29.7 × 42 cm (11 ¾ × 16 ½ in). Painting by Yiğit Özen.
At a Glance
A tower is built of heads heaped one on another and the topmost is the largest of all; between them there is no shoulder or neck, the heads seated directly one upon another. The title speaks of the sovereign standing at the top and the stacking sets this up directly: piling one on another is the shortest way to convey hierarchy, the logic of the totem pole. But here the bearers are not pedestals but faces with eyes and mouths; the support of power is alive, therefore unsteady, and the mass leans slightly to the left. Should it topple, it is not the topmost that is crushed but the lowest. The pyramid is told from the bottom up; whereas the weight bears from top to bottom, in the subcontractor chain a cut is taken at each stage and the sum comes out of the day-wage of the man at the very bottom.
The face of the head at the very top, though, is the most indistinct; the place of its eyes is clear but its expression cannot be read, its gaze turned forward, uninterested in those below. That an order which puts authority at the top makes the authority the most unreadable figure is the strangest side of the stacking. The higher one goes the faces lose their clarity, because no one sees what happens up there; the heads below, meanwhile, are quite clear, who did what all recorded. Surveillance looks downward. The open mouth of the yellowish face in the middle is given with coarse hatching, in a way that shows the teeth; whether it laughs or shouts is unclear, one reading takes this as endurance, like the locked jaw of a person bearing a load, the middle rank taking support from neither side. A laugh left without eyes empties the person.
At lower left stands a small light-coloured face, two dots for eyes and a short line of a mouth; it is the one face in the painting looking out, the one left at the very bottom, the most crushed, but the side that keeps looking. It resembles a child's face. The colours are on the paper, mixed while wet; the yellow, at each meeting with black, muddies and drops to olive, while the cobalt in the eye sockets, as the coldest point of the surface, warms the yellow around it. The black lines come last, some full and flowing, some broken from a dry brush. To build one head from other heads is Arcimboldo's game, but there the portrait works from afar and up close the inventory shows; here the second reading stays half-finished, three or four faces do not join into a new head, they waver between two states. At the right edge a single red runnel has descended, a mark coming not from the heap but from outside it, belonging to no one.
Form and Composition
While the unpainted paper is left exposed in a wide strip on the right edge and serves the function of ground, the paint stands like an island that leans fully against no edge. As the total silhouette of the mass approaches a pear form and makes a knot going inward from both sides at the half height, the indentation on the right is deeper than the one on the left.
The white of the paper is left exposed in a wide strip on the right edge. Its width is about a fifth of the crop, its height the whole page. The same white also continues on the top edge and ends in a taper in the upper left corner. The paint thus stands like an island; it leans fully against no edge, touching only the bottom edge at a few points. There is no separate layer to call a ground, the untouched surface itself serving the function of ground.
The mass descends from the upper left corner towards the lower central region. Its upper part reads like a head: a wide dome, beneath it two dark roundnesses, beneath them a second pair of roundnesses. All four roundnesses are of different sizes and none is in a symmetrical position. The largest in the left central region, the smallest in the upper right. No straight line can be set up between their centres, the distribution free. This piling-up is compact above and loosens as it descends.
At the left mid-height there is a horizontal series. Short vertical units are arrayed side by side and set up a mouth form. Its length is about a palm, its position exactly a third of the way in from the left edge. The same series repeats at a smaller scale in the lower left region; there is a second face there, with two dark patches on it and, beneath it, again a series of short lines. The two faces are not on the same vertical, the lower one further to the left. The difference between their scales is about one to two.
In the lower right region the mass splits. Three separate lobes stand side by side, thick dark lines separating them. These lines wander within the mass and end without going outside. From the edge of the lobe on the right a thin, long trickle descends, stopping before reaching the bottom edge. It is the painting's most upright and thinnest line.
The contour is dark everywhere but intermittent. In some places it is drawn twice, in some places absent altogether and the form opens directly onto the white. The edge disappears most on the right side, at mid-height; the patch thins there and blends into the white of the paper, and the boundary of the mass cannot be read. On the bottom edge, on the other hand, the mass is cut off sharply, the paint ending all at once. In the upper right corner a small signature made with thin lines stands, well away from the mass. The total silhouette of the mass approaches a pear form: a line wide above, knotted in the middle, widening again below. The knot point is at the exact half height, and there is an inward indentation from each side there. The indentation on the right is deeper. Horizontal force is only in the mouth series; apart from that all the strokes are either vertical or circular. Between the void between the mass and the right edge and the void between the mass and the left edge there is a fivefold difference.
Colour and Light
The white striking through from beneath the paper takes on the whole of the light, lighting every tone from within, and as the paint thins the brightness increases. At every meeting of the yellow with the black it muddies at once to olive, while in the right corners the untouched paper itself stays a cool and flat white.
The white of the paper is left entirely untouched on the right side and in the lower corners. Because it is unpainted it is cool and flat; a slightly bluish white. The edges of the coloured mass are cut off irregularly in this emptiness, no boundary has been drawn anywhere, the brush has ended wherever it ended. At the upper right there are a few thin grey lines, and they too stay almost invisible over the white. The yellow is gathered at the very top. Between lemon and cadmium, laid thin; because the paper beneath strikes through the paint the tone has stayed light. The same yellow comes out once more in the mouth shape in the centre, but because black passes over it there it dirties and turns to olive. The same thing happens at every meeting of the yellow with the black; the colour muddies at once, and this repetition is seen in many places on the surface.
The red wanders between old rose and fire red. At its most saturated around the face at the lower left, while in the large mass in the centre it is watered down and has dropped to pink. At the edges the paint has thinned thoroughly, absorbed into the paper and turned into a pale flesh colour. On the right edge there are a few vertical red runs, thinning downwards. The green holds the right half. Between emerald and stalk green, white mixed into it; lighter in the upper part, sliding to grey and brown below. Next to the yellow it stands cool, while next to the red, because it is the direct opposite, both harden a little. Where these two colours touch there has been wet mixing and a dark brown strip is left between them.
The blue is the least used colour. In the eye sockets and in a few round patches, between cobalt and navy. Small though they are, these blues are the coolest points on the surface and they warm the yellow around them. The black is everywhere, but not as paint, as line. Drawn with a dry brush, the paper showing between the strokes; in some places it thickens and rises to full black, in others it stays grey. These lines carry the whole darkness scale; outside them there is no dark area on the surface.
The face at the lower left is divided within itself into two colours. Its right half light yellow, its left half red; the two meet along the line of the nose with no transition at all. The same division is present in the head above, where yellow and green do the same job. Everywhere on the surface the colour boundaries are unsoftened; the paints have mixed into one another only where they stayed wet, and after they dried nothing that came over them changed them. The matter of light is left entirely to the paper. The white coming from beneath the colours seems to light every tone from within; as the paint thins the brightness increases. In the upper right corner a dark signature stands over the white, crossing with the grey lines beneath it.
Iconography, Myth and Title
The faces stacked on top of one another set up the hierarchy of the totem pole, but when the carrying tiers are not pedestals but beings with eyes and a mouth, the foundation of power turns out alive and unsteady. The calm face at the very top does not look at those below; since from the neck down it is bound directly to the other heads, the sovereign's body turns out to be made of its subjects.
The faces are heaped on top of one another and the one at the very top is the largest of all. The upper head's eye a dark ring, its nose distinct, its jaw widening downward. Beneath it there is a smaller face; its mouth full of teeth and drawn in a transverse row. At the lower left there is another head, red and yellow, its two eyes and an open mouth can be made out. On the right, on the other hand, faceless masses are heaped. The ground is left pure white, with no sign of any place. The boundaries between the heads have been lost in most places.
Stacking on top of one another is the most direct way of telling hierarchy. The totem pole, column capitals, gravestones, in all of them the same logic works; whoever is above reigns and those below carry them. The title says just this: the sovereign at the very top. But here those who carry are not pedestals but faces. That is, the thing standing beneath power is beings that have eyes and a mouth. Whatever is used as a pedestal is also what power rests upon; here the foundation is alive, and therefore unsteady. On a totem pole each tier has its own story, here the stories have mingled into one another.
The expressions of the faces below differ from one another. The middle one has clenched its teeth, the lower left one has opened its mouth, another is almost erased. This variety makes them a crowd, not a swarm. Within the heap each is frozen in a separate state. The frozen expressions suggest that the heap grew not in a single moment but over time. The upper one's face, on the other hand, is the calmest; its gaze turned forward and it takes no interest in those below. That the one who reigns does not look at the thing it stands upon is the basic rule of this order.
There is yet another tradition of placing skulls or heads on top of one another. The heap set up after victory, the tower erected as a warning, the rows of heads lined up on the temple wall. Towers erected as a warning were made so that the one who looks would remember his own place. In those heaps the one on top is also part of the same heap, and is on top because it arrived late. Arriving late is, in such towers, the only measure of superiority. The figure here has no body; from the neck down it is bound directly to the other heads. That is, the sovereign's body is made of its subjects.
The white ground being left empty shows the heap as though suspended in the air and makes it uncertain what this order presses upon. There is neither throne nor ground nor wall. Only this tower and the void around it. In the upper right corner a mark drawn with thin lines stands, apart from the heap and very small. On the lower right a red strip flows downward and touches the ground; it stands as though it has seeped from the heap. The masses at the very bottom of the tower are darker than the others and their shapes no longer resemble a face.
Psychoanalysis and the Unconscious
The large head at the very top of the piled heads has risen by treading on those beneath it rather than carrying them, and in this heap there is not a single sign belonging to a body. While the small face looking outward with two dots for eyes in the lower left is the most crushed party but the one that goes on looking, the eyeless laugh in the middle empties a person out.
At the very top of the heads piled on top of one another sits a large head. Its eye sockets are gouged out with dark paint, their insides closed off. It stands as if it had risen by treading on those beneath it; it does not carry them, it has settled on top of them. In this heap I could find no sign belonging to a body. No shoulder, no arm, no torso. There are only heads and all of them are piled onto one another. The surface of the head at the top is the most worked place; it has been gone over again and again, layers accumulated. The further down one goes, the thinner the paint. The one at the top large, the one at the bottom the faintest; this difference does not look accidental.
In the lower left there is a small face, light in colour. Two dots for eyes, below them a short mouth line. It is the only face in the whole painting that looks outward. The party that remains at the very bottom, the most crushed, but that goes on looking. There is no accusation in its gaze, nor any surprise; it just stands open. It resembles a child's face to me, though I cannot say exactly why. Perhaps because the eyes have been set as two dots this simple. Its gaze is not turned up but forward. One side of its cheek has been left empty, the white of the paper shows through there; half of the face is unfinished.
In the middle there is a yellowish surface and a wide mouth is drawn on it; the teeth are marked with coarse lines. Whether this mouth is laughing or shouting is uncertain. It is pressed into the heap, caught between two masses. That only the mouth of a face should stay visible may have to do with the rest of it being repressed. There is no room left to speak, the mouth is open all the same. The teeth are given not one by one but with a single hatching; no time has been spared for detail. The two corners of the mouth are raised but it has no eye, and a laugh left without eyes empties a person out.
The places where the heads join one another are separated with thick black lines. Each stands like a separate shell; their insides painted differently, they do not merge into one another. To stand piled up without merging is not the same thing as being together. This heap does not scatter, but it does not unite either. On the right a red trace has run downward, descending all the way to the edge of the paper. That trace seems to come not from within the heap but from outside it; it belongs to no one.
The background has been left utterly empty. No ground, no shadow, no surface to carry it. The heap stands on its own and is tilted slightly to the left. If it topples, it is not the one at the top but the one at the bottom that is crushed. This tilt stands like the painting's silent threat. Above, somewhere near the right edge, there is a small sign; it has stayed far from the heap and gives the impression of a note added to the scene afterwards, from outside.
Society, Power and Technology
The loose head seated on top of the heap could not stand without the heap; in the subcontracting chain a share is deducted at each stage and the sum of the deductions comes out of the daily wage of the man at the bottom, and when an accident happens responsibility does not rise upward. As you go up the faces lose their sharpness, because surveillance looks downward and transparency is always used for the lower ranks.
The topmost head is drawn larger than all the rest and looser than all the rest. Beneath it there are other heads, piled one on another. As you go down the faces grow smaller and more tense; somewhere in the middle one of them has its mouth open, its teeth as if clenched, and the eyes of the lowest have shrunk right down. We see a head seated on top of a heap. Without the heap that head could not stay there. In the title too the state of being on top is stressed; it speaks not of governing but of standing on top.
This is the most honest way of describing the pyramid, to my mind. It is usually described the other way round; the person at the very top is counted talented, hard-working, far-sighted, and it is said that those below benefit from his decisions. And yet the weight bears down from top to bottom. Look at the subcontracting chain. The main firm takes the job, gives it to a lower firm, the lower firm gives it to another crew, and at last the man who does the work works on a daily wage and his name figures in no contract. At each stage a share is deducted, and the sum of the deducted shares comes out of the wage of the man at the bottom. And when an accident happens the same chain works in reverse; responsibility does not rise upward, it stops at the nearest supervisor. The length of the chain is no accident, it is a distance set up for protection.
The topmost head's features are indistinct. The place of the eyes is clear but their expression cannot be read. As you go up the faces lose their sharpness, because no one sees what goes on there. Few people know in which room the decision was taken, by which signature it passed, by whose phone call it was changed. The heads below, meanwhile, are quite clear; who did what, who was late, who made a mistake, all is recorded. Surveillance looks downward, it does not look upward. How many seconds pass between the cashier's glances at a customer is measured, while what the board discussed in its meeting does not even go fully into the minutes. The word transparency is always used for the lower ranks.
The open mouth of the figure in the middle seemed to me not a shout but an enduring. The jaws of people carrying a load lock up. What we call the middle rank is exactly this place in any case; the person charged with passing the pressure that comes from above down below, liked by neither side, himself inside the same chain. The people who burn out most are always at this level. Seen from above he is not hard enough, seen from below he is the boss's man. He accounts to both sides, he gets support from neither. Look at who is the first to resign in a workplace, most often it is someone from that level.
On the right side there is a long trace running towards the edge of the paper, hanging all the way down. It is the only thing that overflows the heap. Beneath the lowest head nothing else has been drawn, the edge of the paper comes directly; that is, no ground on which the heap rests has been shown.
Art History and Comparison
In the totem the topmost face is the one with the most authority; in the stack here the largest head has the most indistinct face, it has eyes but no mouth, and the arrangement that places authority at the top has made the authority the most unintelligible. In Arcimboldo's composite heads both readings are complete; the faces here do not build a new head.
A tower has been built out of heads set one on another; at the very top a large, domed head, beneath it a yellowish face baring its teeth, and lower down a pink face with two dots for eyes. Between them there is no shoulder or neck, the heads sitting directly one on top of another. The right half of the paper has been left quite empty, the paint never having gone there.
To stack heads vertically is the logic of the totem pole; each face carries a lineage, a story, and the one at the top is generally the one with the most authority. The title, too, invites this reading by speaking of the ruler at the top. In the totem the order of the figures is bound to a rule, who stands above whom is known. The order here seems arbitrary; the head at the very top is the largest, but has the most indistinct face. It has eyes, but no mouth. The faces below it are more expressive than it. That an arrangement which places authority at the top should make the authority the most unintelligible figure is the strangest side of this stack.
To make one head out of other heads is an old game too. In Arcimboldo's composite heads the face is built from fruits or from animals; from a distance you see a portrait, on approaching an inventory. The condition of those paintings is that both readings work in full. In the stack here the second reading stays half-finished. From a distance it stands like a single colossal head, on approaching three or four separate faces appear, but these do not combine to form a new head. It goes back and forth between the two states.
That the greater part of the paper stays empty brings the work close to the tradition of the study sheet. There are pages on which the masters worked heads one after another on a single sheet; each is a separate trial of expression, no narrative is looked for between them, the sheet is a field of experiment. On this paper too it looks as though different facial expressions have been tried; one is shouting, one stares blankly, one grins. The difference is that on the study sheet the heads stand separately. Here they pile one on top of another and form a single mass. Another branch of arranging heads on a sheet passes through nineteenth-century caricature; Daumier had given the members of parliament one after another, side by side, as a gallery of faces. There each face targets a definite person, whereas here no face points to anyone.
In the series' 2020 group this work is one of the rare examples in which the body is given up entirely. In the canvases of the same year there were legs, hips, claws built from bubbles; here there is no body, only the head. Caricature's habit of enlarging the head and shrinking the body has been carried here to its final point, the body wholly erased. Beneath the signature in the upper right corner there are a few thin lines, resembling the legs of a chair and having no relation to the rest of the painting.
Material, Gesture and the Viewer's Experience
On the A3 surface the brush is two or three centimetres wide, that is a single stroke covers a twentieth of the area, and the yellow green over the head is closed off with four or five adjacent moves. The white of the paper covers more than a quarter around the figure untouched; because the paint did not spill over the edge in even a single place, the white is not soiled.
The ratio between the width of the brush and the size of the paper is reversed here. What we call an A3 surface comes to two hand spans, whereas the brush used is two or three centimetres wide; that is, a single stroke covers a twentieth of the surface. The result of this is visible everywhere. The yellow green area filling the upper part of the head is closed off with only four or five moves, no gap left between them because the moves are adjacent to one another. There is no need for the hand to roam over a size like this, the wrist suffices and the whole picture stays within an arm's length.
The colours are mixed on the paper. Everywhere the yellow meets the green, and the green the blue, there are intermediate tones, and these tones do not look as if they were prepared on the palette; they formed along the line where two strokes crossed, while the paint was still wet. In the region where the eye is, blue and black have entered into each other and there the colour is completely blurred. On the cheek, on the other hand, the red touched the yellow beneath it only at its edge and left an orange threshold. Thresholds of this kind repeat over the whole surface.
The black lines are last and in two different consistencies. Some are full and fluid; the winding line at the right of the head lengthens unbroken and thickens and thins with pressure. Some, on the other hand, are almost dry; around the figure at the lower part the lines are broken and caught fast on the grain of the paper. The same brush continued to work without being filled once more and did not hide that difference. The short vertical nicks giving the teeth inside the mouth came from that dry brush too; each about two millimetres and the yellow ground left open between them.
On the right side a red run descended and stopped somewhere near the lower edge. Its tip pointed, not pooled; the paint began to dry as it descended. This run must have formed while the paper was standing upright. Beyond it there is no running anywhere, that is the rest of the picture may have been made on a horizontal surface. Where the run passed the pink beneath it lifted slightly and the two paints darkened by rubbing against each other; no attempt was made to wipe that line away before it dried.
The white of the paper is left untouched around the figure and covers more than a quarter of the picture. This white is not soiled; the paint did not spill towards the edges in even a single place. Because it is thick paper the surface did not ripple either, it stands flat. Looked at from a metre the figure hangs within the white. As you come within twenty centimetres the grain of the paper comes out and it reads one by one at which stroke the paint held on to that grain and at which stroke it skipped over it. The signature in the upper right corner is outside all this, left as a thin grey mark like pencil lead.
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