In
his creative activity, Yari Ostovany deals at various levels
with the phenomenon of cultural memory. Following his stream
of consciousness, the artist revolves in cycles of paintings
around themes that bear the mark of the myth and raise questions
about
the sense and origin of existence. Among these are the "Dialogues
of the Birds" and the Icarus motif. The artist regards two
further cycles as tributes to Goya and Ezra Pound, whose ideas
have greatly influenced his abstract pictorial language.
The "Dialogues
of the Birds" refer to a classic of Sufi literature. It
was composed by Farid al-Din Attar, one of those distinguished
twelfth-century Persian Sufis who divided their time between
teaching and literary activities. The hero of his famous book,
the hoopoe bird, thinks and feels like a Sufi, for whom there
is only one essential thing in life: the direct and unmediated
grasp of the Divine. One day, as all known and unknown bird varieties
inhabiting the earth get together and deliberate about the need
of having their proper king, he knows what to do. For did the
king not exist since long ago in the person of the highly seclusive
Simurgh, the bird who was said to be as close to them as they
were remote from him? The hoopoe bird declares himself to be
willing to lead his fellow birds to him who is their sovereign,
only the journey will be long and fraught with danger. Simurgh,
obviously, symbolizes God, while the different bird varieties
symbolize as many human types. The journey takes the birds through
seven mystical valleys, each representing a stage on the path
to God, an inner state of the seeker of God, accompanied by hunger,
thirst, heat, cold, and external and internal enemies. Just thirty
among them hold on to their objective, to find themselves at
last in front of the gates of the mythical Simurgh. A blazing
glow pervades them, cleansing them of all their previous deeds.
And in this rebirth they recognize that they, the thirty birds
(Persian: si-murgh), do
not exist in separation of the great Simurgh but that He is in
them as they are in Him. With the recognition of this fundamental
unity, expressed in one of the most famous plays on words to
exist in Persian literature, journey and book come to an end.
Yari
Ostovany is not after a reproduction of this story in the form
of an illustration or a symbolical representation. To put it
in his own words: "In my work I strive to touch the poetics
of existence, that which is not linear and rests above and beyond
the confines of the geometrical logic". The paintings of the "Dialogues of the Birds"-cycle
present themselves as concrete creations in which arrangements
of colour and form express autonomous empirical values. The artist
does not make any statement in the sense of a message which the
spectator, looking and reading, has to decipher through intuition
or by employing his reason. In the design of his paintings he
creates a reality that keeps on reshaping itself in the perception
of the onlooker, finding ever new expressions. Using indissoluble,
interwoven and interblending layers of colours, Yari Ostovany
forms meditative spaces in which memories and representations
unfold themselves as in a flow of consciousness. Vertical line
progressions and scaled, horizontal structures contribute to
the rhythmic organization of a perspective space whose ambience
is determined by the chromatic undertones that predominate in
each particular case. Rich applications of colour, underlayers
that force their way into the foreground and a superposition
of forms created by scratching, scraping or sketching all convey
notions of meaningfulness and significance. There is a cautious
articulation of the need to manifest oneself in a public statement,
to lay bare the inmost recesses of memory and to take the individual
experience to a universal level. Surging, ostensibly organic
shapes link up with formations of crosses; frantically expanding,
impulsive movements coexist with geometrical patterns; the ornamental
encounters the narrative, the diffuse the distinct form, all
with a view to gauging and visualizing the various possibilities
of pictorial, symbolic and emblematic representation.
Yari
Ostovany regards his art as a strictly personal exploratory journey,
as an experiment in which he attempts to identify and break through
predominant and established modes of perception and thought.
He understands his work as a dialogue which, similar to the musical
principle that structures the fugue, combines the superficial
with the subcutaneous, opposed with parallel, and overlapping
with merging layers of perception, all in an atmosphere of suspense.
Having received his artistic training at art academies in the
United States, he explores the cultural traditions of his homeland
Iran as well as those of the Western world. Still, in his artistic
work Yari Ostovany does not strive to achieve a synthesis between
contrasting or defining characteristics of Persian and Western
art. Instead, he endeavors to identify potentially fundamental,
abstract cultural patterns in their respective visual vocabularies.
The thematic and aesthetic relations which the artist brings
to surface in the course of his analysis are developed into a
form of expression that has no emblematic bearing upon their
respective cultural contexts; rather, while being equally embedded
in both of them, its means and orientations are distinct in one
and the other case.
Much
like Jewish art, Persian Islamic art has been decisively influenced
by the Old Testamentary prohibition to represent God in human
form: "Thou shalt not make thyself an image..." There
being thus no figurative representation, Islamic art is based
on premises that are altogether different from those of antique
and medieval Christian culture. Artists
focus rather on abstract means of creation: line, texture and
colour. It is only in exceptional
cases that individual figures or emblems become the object of
contemplation; the latter directs itself mostly towards surrounding
arabesks or geometric enclosures. Ever since antiquity Western
art has committed itself to the human form and the relation between
a narrative and its pictorial representation. Islamic art has
given up this classical legacy to entrust poetics with the tale
and its artistic expression. Through symbolic references, paintings
are meant to allude to the world of Ideas. Where in classical
culture the objective was to illustrate particular texts, here
the onlooker is invited to freely follow his stream of consciousness
within the framework set by a given theme. At a formal level,
non-figurative Islamic art is determined by the pursuit of balance,
control and proportion and as such, it is unmistakably self-referential.
The
stripping-away of visual characteristics, too, aims at a pictorial
condensation which does not lead to the absence of a statement,
but rather to a far-reaching, universal imagery, in the same
way in which this came to pass in Western, abstract art since
the days of Malevitch. This iconoclastic act annihilates the
multifarious possibilities of distinction, leaving just the contrast
unchanged. The lack of diversity in the inner structure is on
a par with the absolute and comprehensive reality to which it
refers. Reality, compressed into the notion of a limitless whole,
ceases to have any conceivable, grammatical predicate. Malevitch's "suprematism" endeavors
to reduce culture to its universal, cosmic truths, which is why
it expunges all distinctive characteristics: "The creative
act, however, has limits nor restrictions. Like the universe,
it is boundless in its exercise, and on that account it can
arrive at 'nothingness' and 'eternal rest' ".
In nineteen-fifties' and -sixties' North American art, the "Abstract
Paintings" of Ad Reinhardt, in which primary colours almost
dissolve into the indistinctness of a black surface, correspond
to Malevich's "White Square on a White Surface". The
post-second world war American artist, too, aims for the Absolute: "The
one and only criterion in art is unity and beauty, exactitude
and purity, abstraction and delicacy. The one and only thing
that can be said of perfect art is breathlessness, lifelessness,
deathlessness, meaninglessness, formlessness, spacelessness,
and timelessness. That is forever the aim and the outcome of
art".
This
particular claim, however, directs itself at an all-encompassing
whole in which the idea of God has been preserved in a profane
way. Something divine, conceptually incomprehensible, yet intuitively
known or sensed is supposed to reveal itself to the onlooker
in a pre- or else, meta-linguistic act of apprehension. But it
is precisely here, that Yari Ostovany introduces a doubt. The
mere act of negating any extra-pictorial relation is hardly capable
of clarifying the Lost Origin in the way of a catharsis. He thus
starts out on a careful search for traces, in which hieroglyphic,
pictorial or symbolic vestiges are made visible in an almost
shadow-like way as he strives to delineate potentially new orientations
and frames of reference in the chaotic texture. Using a multitude
of symbolic arrangements, he uncovers the latter as in a flow
of consciousness, to himself and to the onlooker alike.
The
longing for an origin takes the onlooker with every painting
to different recesses of memory, thus lending it ever new perspectives.
The interpretation of the paintings and their symbols takes place
in a spiral movement, which tends towards an axis and a final
point without ever being able to attain either one of them. Thus
we find ourselves in a situation where we have to verbalize the
conceptual contents of the paintings while the latter escape
our rational, geometric logic. This contradictory plight is certainly
bearable.
Bochum,
2002.