viperella, 2020: a reading in seven lenses
Acrylic on canvas, 50 × 70 cm (19 ⅝ × 27 ½ in). Painting by Yiğit Özen.
At a Glance
A dark band closes in from all four sides and leaves within it a light green rectangle between lemon and pistachio, setting up a second frame inside the painting. The figure is placed right in the middle of that bright field, standing in profile. This frame drawn in paint recalls the false niche of Renaissance panels, only its edges tremble, its corners do not close; the gravity of the niche is gone, and what remains is a dirty band that holds the figure in the middle. Taken into a frame, the figure ceases to be a presence in its own right and turns into a displayed specimen. The obligation to be visible seeps in here: in the middle there is no command, there is a threshold; if you stay below that threshold you are not visible, and if you are not visible you are counted as nothing. The area left in darkness is more than half the surface and within it nothing is discernible, and the life that does not enter the crop stands there too. This pose, chin lifted, one hand come to face height, is not taken of its own accord but arranged; behind a single published image are forty unpublished ones, and what remains as a measure is a single number.
The title is built by adding a diminutive suffix to the word viper, a name to be given to a fairy-tale hero. The snake in the narratives is always two-sided; it is both the one that gives poison and the one that renews by shedding its skin. In the painting the only trace belonging to the reptile is the length of the nose; the profile stretches forward and, like Leonardo's grotesque heads, falls somewhere between human and animal. The face refuses to be looked at frontally, the eye almost erased, while the red mouth is overly marked. Right beside the mouth a hand is in the air, fingers open; it stands as if about to cover the mouth, and also carrying something to the mouth. There is no object held in the hand, the gesture left on its own.
The body is built of ring upon ring of swellings, no waist, no shoulder; no sound spine either, what holds the figure standing is not its skeleton but the border of that rectangle. Each limb is a single full stroke and within the stroke pink, purple, green and black run in hair-fine separated strips, no colour staying at its own border. The toe of the front shoe overruns the right border of the inner rectangle and enters the dark band; that is the one place the mass crosses the frame, and with one more step it will leave the light.
Form and Composition
The dark band enclosing the inner area leaves a second format inside the painting, and the figure fills this narrow rectangle almost entirely. The mass, like the reverse of an hourglass, is narrow at its two ends and bulging in the middle, and when the vertical axis breaks to the right at hip level the vertical of the head and foot passes outside the body.
The darkening of the edges leaves a light rectangle inside. This inner area is enclosed on all four sides, and its boundaries are not straight but marked by the irregular edges the brush has left. The left band is the widest, the right band a little narrower than it, the top band the thinnest. The bottom band, meanwhile, stands like a horizontal threshold beneath the figure's feet. The proportion of the inner rectangle is close to the outer one; a second format is set up inside the painting.
The figure fills the whole of this inner area. It stands sideways, its face looking left. The head a hand's width short of the top edge, the feet on top of the lower threshold. Its height is about ninety per cent of the inner area. Its width, meanwhile, about a third of it; a narrow, long vertical. The body is built from overlapping egg forms, the largest at hip level, and there it spills to the right. The line of the back passes three times between concave and convex from top to bottom; that is, the outer line is not a smooth curve but wavy.
On the left an arm rises up. The elbow at navel level, the hand at eye level and the fingers open. The triangular void the arm makes is the only opening between the body and the left edge; its width is that of a head. On the right there is no such opening, the back leaning directly against the dark band. For this reason the figure breathes towards the left and stays closed on the right.
In the lower region there are two feet, both sharp-tipped and both looking left. The front foot presses onto the lower threshold, the back one a notch behind and larger. The distance between them is about a foot's length. The tip of the right foot crosses the right boundary of the inner rectangle and enters the dark band; that is the only place the mass exceeds the frame.
The contour is not uninterrupted. The forms come out through the coming together of thick strokes side by side, with the ground showing between them. On the right edge the contour disappears entirely and the figure drops to the same value as the dark band; the distinction collapses there. On the left edge, on the other hand, thanks to the light ground the silhouette is clear. In the face region the strokes shorten and change direction, and against the long arcs in the body there is a densening there. The signature stands above, near the right edge; thrown into the dark band in red, its scale that of a fingernail. The weight of the body gathers at mid-height. Above, head and neck are thin, below the legs are thin, in the middle the hip region is wide. The mass thus works like the reverse of an hourglass; the two ends narrow, the middle bulging. The vertical axis is therefore not straight but breaks once to the right at hip level. The vertical line between the head and the feet passes outside the body.
Colour and Light
The inner lemon pistachio green field is the only bright region of the surface, and the band of maroon, purple grey and olive that surrounds it takes on all the darkness of the painting. Because the red is saturated while its opposite, pistachio green, is lightened, the conflict stays unbalanced and raises the red, and the white that covers the belly and the black strip beside it build the hardest transition in the painting.
The light inner field is a green between lemon and pistachio. The paint is laid with vertical scrubs, it does not fully cover the weave of the cloth, and towards the edges it dirties and slides to grey. The lightest region of the surface is there and it stands flat like a wall. On its right side the green is pulled a little more towards yellow, on its left side a little more towards the cool. The band surrounding this light field is entirely dark. Maroon, purple grey, an olive that reaches to black; all mixed into one another and scrubbed up and down with the brush. At the corners they descend to their darkest states. This belt has taken on all the darkness of the painting; in the inner field there is no tone anywhere near it. On the left edge a bluish grey seeps in, on the right edge the red is dominant.
The figure stands between these two regions, on top of the light ground, and its colour changes without stop. On the head and chest a fiery red and fuchsia, in the middle violet purple and lilac, in the legs purple again, on the side of the back olive green and black. The paints were set side by side while wet, and as the brush passed from one to the other it left blurred strips between them. No colour stands at its own boundary. Red and pistachio green are opposite one another on the colour wheel. Here the red is saturated while the green is lightened; and so the contrast is not balanced, the red speaks in a louder voice. The fiery patch on the chest of the figure is for this reason the first place on the whole surface where the eye gathers. The same red appears once more beneath the feet, paler.
The white is over the belly and on the inner side of the leg. It is not a clean white, green and grey have got into it; even so it is the lightest place on the figure. It is set thick and has fully covered the purple beneath it. The difference between it and the black strip right beside it is the hardest transition in the painting. In the face the palette has grown thoroughly cramped. The forehead a yellowish green, around the eyes purple, the nose and lip fiery, beneath the chin brown; all gathered in a palm-sized area. The hair is a mixture of black and green, drawn in a single stroke. Moreover the fingers at the end of the arm are dark green and purple, of no colour in the body; as if a separate mixture had come there.
Where the light comes from is not clear. The light green field could have stood like a brightness, but it casts nothing onto the figure; the side of the body that faces it is as dark as its other side. Beneath the feet there is a horizontal scrub verging on red, the closest thing to a shadow, but its colour is warm and more dirty than dark. In the upper right corner a signature has been thrown in red over the maroon. Because the ground is dark the red darkens there and the letters are only just made out.
Iconography, Myth and Title
The single figure placed inside the frame is brought out on display, and the being taken into the frame ceases to be one who stands on its own and turns into an example. The viper diminutive in the title is like a fairy-tale name, and the skin-shedding snake calls up transformation; since there is nothing in the raised hand, the gesture shows not the thing it carries but itself.
A single figure has been placed inside a light-coloured quadrilateral and is seen from the side. On its head there is a black protrusion reaching backward; it stands both like a hat and like a pointed tail. The face is given in profile, the nose long, and at the level of the mouth there is a red opening. One hand is raised, the fingers spread beside the face. The body is built by lining up round masses on top of one another and widens as it descends. On the feet there is a long, pointed-toed shell. The protrusion behind the head is not the same colour as the body.
The frame itself is a sign. The light area behind the figure is surrounded on all sides by a dark band; it stands both like a stage curtain and like a panel hung on a wall. The single figure placed inside it is thereby brought out on display. In images of saints and in posters the same rule works: whoever is inside the frame is the one displayed. The figure taken into the frame ceases to be a being that stands on its own and turns into an example. The moment the curtain opens, the spectator too is created.
The name in the title is built by adding a diminutive suffix to the word for the viper snake; the kind of name that would be given to a fairy-tale heroine. Names that end like Cinderella call up, in folk stories, the girl and the transformation. The snake, for its part, is always two-sided in the tales; both poison and cure, it is the deceiving side and also the side that sheds its skin and renews itself. The animal that sheds its skin is the unvarying hero of transformation narratives; each time it leaves the old one behind. When these two are combined in a single name, what emerges is a figure that comes on stage, shows itself, and is known to be dangerous.
The posture of the raised hand carries this reading. The fingers close to the face, the turn of the wrist soft; it stands both like giving a greeting, like holding something, and like making a dance figure. This gesture appears across a wide range, from cabaret posters to icon paintings. The difference lies in what the hand carries. Here there is nothing in the hand, that is, the gesture stands on its own. The sign the empty hand makes shows not the thing it carries but itself.
The snake-like side of the body is the masses being lined up in rings on top of one another. On the back there are protrusions coming one after another, as though lined up along a spine. As they descend these rings thicken and spread across the ground at the level of the feet. It seems to be walking but its step is uncertain; both feet face the same direction and lie flat on the ground. These protrusions lined up along the spine give the body a reptile order. At the lower edge, right beneath the feet, there is a reddish patch; it stands as though smeared onto the ground and may also show the direction the figure came from.
Psychoanalysis and the Unconscious
The face given in profile refuses to be looked at from the front, and while its eye is erased the red mouth stretches forward as the only region of the face that stays alive. The hand left in the air beside the mouth stays suspended, neither covering nor letting go of what is said, standing like a reflex that rises to hold back what should not be said.
The face is given in profile; apart from a nose and a red mouth no detail has been left. The eye is almost erased, there is only a dark gap. This is a head that refuses to be looked at from the front. It is hard to speak with someone standing side-on, they do not give you half of their face. Against this the mouth is overly distinct; the lips thick, red and stretched forward. It is the only region that stays alive in the face. Above the forehead there is a dark mass, hair or a headdress; it weighs the head forward. The chin, on the other hand, has receded, merging with the neck.
Right beside the mouth a hand has risen into the air. The fingers are long and thin, separated from one another, their tips tinged with green. This hand is either about to cover the mouth or is taking something to the mouth. The distance between the two is a few centimetres. The drawing of hand and mouth so close together reminded me of a habit learned in childhood; when something that should not be said is about to be said, the hand rises of its own accord. Here the hand has stayed up, neither covering nor letting go. The tips of the fingers are slightly curled, there is a gap between them; no object being held has been drawn, the palm is empty. The red of the mouth seems to have smeared onto the hand too, the two regions share the same paint.
The body consists of sections lined up ring by ring. No waist, no shoulder, no rib cage; there are swollen parts sitting on top of one another. They widen downward and gather at the hip, then suddenly thin and descend into small feet. So voluminous a body presses on so tiny a base. The tips of the shoes are sharp and stretched forward. It seems to be walking but its balance is untrustworthy; it could topple to the side at any moment. On the back a dark line descends, bounding the body from behind. The front, on the other hand, has been left open, without an edge. A body one side of which is drawn, the other side of which has run.
Behind there is a light-coloured rectangle, its edges dark. The figure has settled exactly inside that bright area. It could be the gap of a door, a mirror or a stage light. The darkness at the edges runs downward. To stand within the brightness means to accept being seen. Someone who turns their face away has left their body to the light. The upper edge of the rectangle ends a little above the head; the area seems to have been measured to fit it.
Beneath the feet there is a short shadow, stretching to the right. That is the only point of contact; the rest of the body touches nothing. The toe of the front shoe has come to the boundary of the bright area and stopped there. The rear foot, on the other hand, has stayed within the boundary; if it takes one more step it will leave the frame.
Society, Power and Technology
The figure that settles into the centre of the lit rectangle with a rehearsed pose carries the obligation to be visible; there is no order in the middle, there is a threshold below which the one who is not visible falls behind. The darkness covering half the surface holds the real life, and two people suffering the same trouble, because they are left outside the crop, remain unaware of each other's existence.
The figure stands inside a lit rectangle, darkness on all four sides. A body that has entered the crop. It has posed from the side, its chin slightly raised, one hand brought level with its face. Its feet are brought forward too, it looks as though it is wearing something with a heel. This is not a stance taken of its own accord; it is an arranged, rehearsed stance. The boundary of the lit area is clear and the figure has placed itself in the very centre of that boundary.
The obligation to be visible is, to my mind, the most insidious business of the last ten years. No one sits anyone down in front of a camera, but the work of the one who is not visible does not go through either. The tradesman is forced to open an account, the teacher is forced to introduce himself, the job-seeker is forced to update his profile. There is no order in the middle, only the falling behind of the one who is not visible. And this is a far more effective method than an order, because you cannot complain to anyone. If there were a person applying the pressure you would face him and argue. There is no person in the middle, there is a threshold; if you stay below that threshold you are not visible, and if you are not visible you are counted as not existing.
The hand standing close to the face seems to be hiding something, or straightening something. It could be either. Most of the time spent inside the crop passes this way in any case; between the pose and the touching-up. Behind a single published image there are forty unpublished. The sifting of those forty is a kind of labour too, but it is counted as work nowhere. No wage is paid for it, nor is it entered on any timesheet; what is left is a single number, the number of likes. On the day that number falls, a person's idea of himself falls too. Someone who grows used to measuring his worth from outside can no longer ask to whom the instrument that holds the measure belongs.
The part left outside the lit area is wide. More than half of the surface is there and nothing in it can be made out. The life that does not enter the crop is a place like this too; the room with unpaid rent, the night worked, the job lost. The part no one sees is in fact the real part. The width of the place left in darkness is the thing that really troubles me; because the people standing there cannot see one another either. Two people living the same trouble, because both are outside the crop, remain unaware of each other's existence. Social media's greatest harm is not that it makes people lie, it is that it accustoms people to counting only one section of their own lives as real.
The body has swelled layer upon layer, it is made up of swellings added to one another. There is no firm spine within it. The thing that holds its stance upright is not its skeleton but the boundary of that rectangle. The lower edge of the lit area is cut off just behind its feet and the figure's heel has stepped exactly on that line.
Art History and Comparison
In the Renaissance panel the painter paints a false niche, and the figure settles into the recess like a statue; the frame here is tremulous, its corners not closed, the gravity gone and a dirty band left in its place. In the Lautrec poster the figure is reduced to a silhouette so that it can be read from a distance; the body here is voluminous, a stance is read from afar, and on approaching, the body falls apart.
The face of the figure standing in profile has stretched forward and turned into a nose, its hand in the air at the level of the chin, its fingers open. The body is built from top to bottom of overlapping lobes; the hip one lump, the belly another lump. Its feet are pointed, recalling a heeled shoe. The whole figure has been placed inside a pale rectangle, and around this area a broad, scumbled dark band has been drawn.
To make a frame with paint inside the painting is often seen in Renaissance panels; the painter paints a false niche or a false border, the figure settles into that recess, and the viewer sees it like a statue. Here too there is a frame, but it is not neat; its edges tremulous, its corners not closed, the brush marks open everywhere. The gravity the niche gives has been lost, and what remains is a dirty band that holds the figure in the middle. It works nonetheless, the figure does not spill outside that area. In other works of the series the ground was either left a single colour or worked from end to end; here the ground itself has been divided into two zones, the inside bright, the outside dark.
The exaggerated nose seen from the side is one of caricature's oldest tools. In Leonardo's grotesque profile heads the nose, chin and forehead are pushed towards one another, the human face brought closer to the animal; those drawings are the pages of a notebook of curiosity, made to collect types. The profile here goes in the same direction, standing somewhere between the human and the animal. But Leonardo's heads are definite types, each pointing to a separate character. This figure does not settle into a type; no detail has been given to show its age, its sex, its occupation, its only distinct feature being its stance. The viper association in the title, too, connects to the painting only through the length of the nose, and there is no sign belonging to a reptile on the body.
That stance too seems to come from the poster tradition. In Lautrec's theatre posters the figure is given in profile, made recognisable with a single gesture, the background emptied out. The rule of the poster is that someone looking from a distance can read the figure in a second; for this reason the body is reduced to a silhouette. The body here, however, is not reduced to a silhouette, on the contrary it is voluminous, lumpy and confused. Looked at from a distance only a stance is read, and on approaching, the body that carries that stance falls apart.
Among the series' 2020 works this is one of the smallest in size, and one of the examples in which the figure is placed on the canvas alone. Compared with the crowded scenes of the same year, the number of decisions here is few; one figure, one ground, one frame. The arm staying in the air is seen in other figures of the series too, and there as here what the hand is doing is unclear. The tip of the shoe touches the lower edge of the frame, and there the paint has run down a few centimetres.
Material, Gesture and the Viewer's Experience
Each limb is placed with a single loaded stroke, and within that stroke pink, purple, green and black run as strips separated bristle by bristle without mixing. This small fifty by seventy canvas calls the viewer close, not back; at twenty centimetres the body disappears and separates into some twenty colour-loaded strokes.
The dark band enclosing the edges is a frame made with paint, but it has no straight edge. The brush there descended from top to bottom in long and dry passes; the paint ran low at each pass and the layers beneath struck up slice by slice. On the left side grey reads from beneath the burgundy, on the right side pink from beneath the grey. At least three coats one over another and none fully covers another. Its inner border is trembling too; at some points it climbs over the light area at the centre, at some points it stands away from it, and this irregularity was never tidied up.
The light greenish yellow area at the centre is left very thin. The weave of the canvas reads there from end to end, the paint stayed on the raised places of the cloth and did not go down between them. Horizontal and vertical passes have ridden over one another and darker marks are left between them. This area was laid beneath the figure, before it, and left to dry; I can see no border where the two paints mixed into each other.
The figure itself is of an altogether different density. Each limb is a single loaded stroke and within that stroke four or five separate colours run side by side; pink, purple, green and black stand without mixing into one another, as strips separated bristle by bristle. In a single move on the hip I can count all of them at once. The brush is flat and two or three centimetres wide; it entered the surface at a slant and left turning. In the region where the neck and chest are, red and purple met while wet and the tone blurred there, but this blurring stayed only at the place where two strokes crossed.
The black lines are the last. On the back, beneath the arm and over the feet they pass fluid, long and unbroken; they did not lift the colours beneath them at all, that is those regions had dried. The shadow beneath the feet is left with the same black too, with a broad drag, and vanished by thinning towards the right. The signature at the upper right is thin and red, almost transparent over the dark band. On the fingers of the hand, on the other hand, the brush lightened right down; it is left as three or four short nicks and light ground was left between them.
Fifty by seventy is one of the smallest canvases I have seen in this series. At this size the figure stays within an arm's length and the whole picture can be finished from a single standing position; there is no need for the arm to roam over the canvas, the wrist and forearm suffice. Looked at from a metre the figure is a body standing on its feet. As you come within twenty centimetres the body disappears and what is left in hand is some fifteen or twenty broad, colour-loaded strokes; within each of them are its own strips, its own beginning and its own point of running out. The small size calls the viewer close too; in front of such a surface a person does not step back, on the contrary they bring their nose closer.
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