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Decay in Bloom
A tulip untwists the bud with the petals that seem to be made of pure silk. It blooms, nods to the Sun, and drops the petals, bare, fragile. It denudes the stem that with time becomes a smelly, jellylike liquid in a vase, in danger of collapse - the essence that is impossible to admire anymore. Pure joy and delight are always near the decay and disgust, that slice and dice human lives and prospects, ruining their future and natural intention to bloom, seed - going a full circle of living. Trust is always near with betrayal. Truth is the reverse of untruth, and even imperfection and perfection might seem siblings, just put them under the microscope of your consciousness.
This idea enables speculation intrigued by the visual sights of decay as it is, its philosophical aesthetics as well as a philosophical matter, interrogating the mind: “Is that a ruin or lost beauty?” “Is that a place for rebirth or the place of the remnants embalming?” “Is that a point of revelation or even more intense sleep?”
The imperfection of the world encourages a constant search for beauty, acceptance of the natural cycle of life - impermanent, incomplete and formless in a way. As traditional Japanese aesthetics, wabi-sabi (侘寂) chalks it up - the ideal is impossible to achieve, and impermanence is the only way, though in a number of cultures and societies this o'erbiment and yet sturdy idea finds its place, being sort of demented and reverted historical jingle. An eloquent line to cast some light on perceiving its horrible consonancy to the current public and political context - the changes occurring in social institutes expose a rust ruin in the human mind of millions of people, culture, morality - a filthy stream of thoughts and fake ideals taken as the best of possible. The behaviour, showing low morals and great love of pleasure, money, fame, cruelty, betrayal, etc. - can be seen in individuals and societies as a pattern of abandoning previously held beliefs, values and knowledge.
On interrogating oneself, seeking to fill the explanatory gap of why a single creature capable of creation chooses destruction I may crush into endless philosophical enquiry. Obviously, the human eye aspires to find at least a faint sight of vanishing beauty between sublimity and ugliness, appeal and revulsion, making an effort to disclose amenity in disgust.
A wasteful endeavour rushes to breathe life into a cold and lifeless object - tracking attractiveness in stagnation. It works well with previously authentically beautiful things, but not with those built on licentious and false, cruelty and in-birth collapse - the “totems'' of moral disaster and decay that transmit devaluing of cognitive activity, which results on humans being desensitised from important fundamental values due to stimulus forced into daily life and imposed habits - they introduce new “norms” and “morals'' which increase hatred and diminish compassion devaluing the principle values - human life and development. Disillusionment, cynicism, and pessimism replace harmony. To the crush of moral and human values it leads some - which is devastating for culture, mentality, and humanity as is; meantime, others, due to their scholastic regards, intelligence, and sensibility, get thrown into the philosophical abyss, timelessness, speechlessness, and obscured sadness seeing the devastation in all its robust, shaping the picture of the moment, recording the event for history by means that serve best.
This picture depicts human rigidness, a political action that pushes social decline, a humanitarian crisis with a high rate of social anxiety, and social breakdown. It is an expression of pessimism and stagnant mind that affects culture, putting on a pedestal a model of post-rational aesthetics in which spatial order and common sense are challenged by an affirmation of an evil tradition, worshipping of old mascots that prevail the need for change and urge - demonstrating rather polar points of view - utterly contrast, strongly assertive and sheer soundless, like the intense shade of blind-black - the tome of nothing and cadaverous white - the shade of lifeless skin. Dead cannot give birth and make progress or build modernity in the cold body. It only brings despair and exhausts the future with reviving a “dried petal”. Reviving is not like planting new seeds to make the whole garden bloom.
Dying and reviving is like comparing to opposites which have a huge spacing in between, like absolute good and absolute bad, which range millions shades in-between - lots of possibilities to "pollinate" the imagination and reboot the mind, however, there are millions who are unable to distinguish them, despite their daily reading and seeing of numerous “black-and-white” images. Seeing them, and understanding, and distinguishing them is not the same, however every day provides us with a tremendous increase in pictorial information and exercise on distinguishing truth and untruth. Through reading “black and white texts”, pictures and photographs we receive training, and in the reading of lighter and darker tones of grey we do some training too.
Since the discovery of photography and particularly since the development of photomechanical reproduction processes, people see lots of pictures depicting various aspects of human life. The images that represent obvious objects retain a hidden shade - the shade visible and invisible.
As an initial visual reference I use the photographs taken while I observed the life of the tulip blossom. They represent fragility and fluency of flower life and the inevitable change that comes when the epoch of a flower ends. I thoughtfully chose B&W photographs as a starting point and predominantly "black and white” palette, associating it with a sense of limit and restriction, and the phenomenon of duality. However, the materials, initially being black and white - transmit other visual signals. Solid black background with a piece of white silk mesh gives us the finest gradation of grey, while intense white silk thread becomes a reference of the poles of black and white, surrounded with the shades penetrating each other in varying degrees.
To transmit the transparency of a decaying petal I use mulberry silk gauze, and silk raw fibres. Their structure and plastics remind me of the celestial casket of a dry flower, its folds, and wrinkles. The silken weaved threads are like the real flower veins, while raw fibres flounce like ruffles in the lifeless flower bud, which seems to keep some vital liquor for sustaining an evidence of life in the lifeless matter.
The lighter or the darker - only the minority can distinguish close intervals when obscure and contrasting hues embellish a mascotte in such a deliberate way demonstrating an allusion to the present and, metaphor to its historical perspectives. While corporeal eyes seek to distinguish black and white among lower intensity shades, our mind commits the same effort to balance on the edge between the demoralising chaos of existence and organic humanity, between blackness and ugliness of decay contrasting with brittle beauteous silk, wrapped in visually simple elements and techniques that equalise the complexity of the philosophic issue which examines life in collapse of morality.
