Can we make historical references here? The works at the first exhibition had associations of the dynamism of Baroque sculpture, even of the bronze castings of Umberto Buccioni made in the 1910s. The Italian artist had taken the continuum of the outer space as his subject matter. Futurist art was preoccupied with the representation of physical or mechanical forces. And then, especially these new sculptures by Günnur Özsoy, make one think of Arp. In Arp's sculptures we find a certain simplicity, a certain purity which gives the impression of being natural: forms that are not complete, that are different from the majority of the objects we know (we percieve, we use), but which do not seem unfamiliar because they refer to the body in some stones, in some organic formation, to a local nature, a reduced kind of nature that we can recognize at a glance, or to real nature) – they exist beside us but they are different (and in that sense they are supernatural). Furthermore, when we are talking about reductionist art, we have to take into consideration another great name in contemporary sculpture: Brancusi. This sculptor's effort was to capture the essence of the visible: an experiment of purifying/purification; what he was seeking after was to catch the simple absolute of the visible (of the act of seeing), the truth of the visible.

Of course, these references (the references here, our references) can be increased in number. The aim of such references is to bring to mind the "contemporary" context, the problematic of the art of sculpture. We do not exist in this context any more. Today, in 1999, the aesthetic (and also the onthological) claim of the art of sculpture seems to have become a thing of the past. To a large extent, the loss of this claim involves painting (in the sense of peinture). Whereas, it can be argued that Günnur Özsoy's works, in a way, take advantage of this loss of claim. Günnur Özsoy does not feel obligated to suffer the strain, the frustration, or the difficulty of finding herself in a context and in a problematic. In a sense, she does not have to account for the position she has adopted; she is free to do whatever she wishes. She concentrates her efforts on the field of an art detached from its history, its context, and also from its problematic. Naturally, this ease she finds herself in does not prevent Günnur Özsoy's sculptures from having an inner coherence, a certain unity, and a concern for form. This relief does not exclude seriousness. In Günnur Özsoy, this seriousness takes the form of a certain meticulousness which she displays primarily at the technical stages of creating her works. She is fascinated by the process of the technical formation of her works. And she wants to display this formation along with the finished work, or just behind it. These sculptures have been derived from zero; they have taken their body, their existence from nothingness. In the claim to emphasize this process of the works acquiring their existence, we can trace the marks of the old onthological concerns. When the existing thing (existence in the sense of being a work of art) gains its presence, there is no way of returning back. Throughout all the stages the work undergoes to come into existence, there is an interesting unity of chance and necessity involved. The stage of digging in the sands (which is, in a way, the moment of fertilization) brings out the greatest possible freedom experienced at the moment of deciding the form. Within the limits of a certain understanding of form, the inner feelings of the artist, her sensations express themselves at this very moment: in this case then, the result seen in the sands is the earliest stage of the finished form – the cavern Günnur Özsoy shows us in the photographs – comprises the utmost arbitrariness of the artist in that sense; and this quality of arbitrariness will also be reflected at the final stage of the work. Then, (when the process has been completed, when the work has been realized), this quality of arbitrariness, which is raised to the state of being a concrete object will, of necessity, emerge just because of the fact that it has now acquired an existence of its own.

We do not stand in front of a sculpture today as we used to do in the past. The older works of sculpture existed as signs of past cultures. Of course, when we see a Michelangelo, a Bernini, or a Rodin, we feel as if we were walking past a vital thing. Vital. . . but we have neither the time, nor the knowledge to investigate and discover what it is; this is a momentary feeling, that is all. Well, what do we do in the face of the new works of sculpture? To my mind, what we first perceive is that they are functional. If there is a sculpture standing at a certain place, this means that it performs a certain social function according to the characteristics of that locality. A statue of Atatürk at a square or in a school yard (in the Turkish Republic, the art of sculpture seems to be identified with the representation of Atatürk) performs an ideological function. Again, a "modern" sculpture standing in a square, in a public park, or at the enterance of a private institution, symbolises the significance assigned by the public or by the private institutions both to the public (the work is donated to the public by that institution) and to art and artists (the work is also a donation of that institution to the artist to whom it has been commissioned). And any sculpture in a house is an ornament whose function is to show the taste, wealth, cultural level, and even the degree of "modernity" of the host or the hostess. We have tried to find answers to the questions where these sculptures have come from; and now, we must tackle the question where these sculptures will be going. Whereas, our real aim is to render a valid point of view which considers sculptures to be works of art. Is not what all the critic writes an effort to render effective an "ideal" point of view, which is not valid within the space (and duration) of a piece of critique? Of course, critical views differ in terms of precision in their critical outlooks. Unfortunately, mystified discourses on art are far from establishing an "ideal" point of view; they can only add their linguistic emptiness to the work in question. For, critiques have definite functions of their own; for some critics, it seems to be sufficient to have an art review published with a signature underneath which can be "effective" and "authoritative" (especially in the critiques published in catalogues). However that may be, let us now return to Günnur Özsoy's works and try to examine them with meticulous care (although this view will have limited validity as well).

These forms make references to a primitive space. They are not differentiated (if we take differentiated form to mean the stage after the form has taken shape). This primitiveness does not exclude us in spite of a certain untamed quality. It is possible to establish a certain relationship with it. These forms have no faces, but only surfaces. Especially in the aliminium works, these surfaces are smooth, slippery and shiny. The aspect of primitiveness is joined with the aspects of surface and shininess. These aspects minimize the effect of the untamed quality in the primitiveness, or rather they tame it. And we have exactly that kind of primitiveness here which finds its place in the home. These are some masses which are not objects for use, but which have a certain harmony with the used objects and the defined forms found at home. They are objects which do not disrupt the familiar arrangement and the design of the house but which, on the contrary, reflect them. These sculptures form a focal point of shininess and intense masses within the house. Thus, a shining mass is focused upon within the house (or, in a much larger sense, in the dwelling space), providing a difference, which is out-of-use in the familiar arrangement of the house but which adds dynamism and meaning to the general use of the house. In other words, a work of art which is "outside" meaning in terms of the familiar forms and objects, incorporates an additional significance to them and adds a new dynamism to our relationships with them. Perhaps, taking this as a starting point, we can talk of a certain sacredness which has taken its place in our lives at present. For, at this point, the transcendental and thus the sacred aspect of the work lends itself to us. Of course, what we are thinking of here is a domestic, secular and "limited" sacredness. We should not underrate such objects as mere decorations, art objects for use, or pragmatic art. Günnur Özsoy, who is an expert on jewellery-making, is fully aware of this point. And we should not forget that Matisse had also seriously considered such aspects of art. Yet, the work of art is there for us to dwell with, to live with. In this process of "co-existing in the same space", the work continues its process of being tamed (or taming us). However, at the same time, those who live with the work of art also become "tamed" in a sense, and thus open themselves up to the outside world where it has come from, and also to the work's untamed quality. If so, while being tamed, the work undergoes a process of metamorphosis. And this is the essence of our relationship with the work of art; that never-ending relationship!

COLOURS, VOLUMES

Günnur Özsoy approaches us with coloured masses. Or, to put it better (for there is always a better way of putting something into words) we can ask ourselves, just before the exhibition, where she is going to place these coloured masses. We can see beforehand that they will be placed in an empty space and that they will confer a certain level of meaning on to that space. They make up a kind of family. However, after the exhibition, they will be separated from one another; the difference of each from the others will then be more apparent. What will this difference turn out to be? Well, what is it that holds them together? What are their relationships with space in either of these cases? We must find answers to these questions. When we orient towards a space and see an object that fills up a part of that space, such questions inevitably arise. For I do not think that some matters like "object", "space", "volume", "location", "colour" have yet ceased to present themselves as questions. Günnur Özsoy has opted for coloured materials. The colours polyester holds or reflects are artificial, and it can be said that they are as vivid as they are artificial. With her orientation coming from the art of jewellery-making, Günnur Özsoy knows how the artificial will contain vividness, however paradoxically. Let us clarify what this vividness means: first of all, it is a kind of attractiveness for the object or the thing; then, it is the attractiveness it gives to the space it finds itself in; apart from this, it is perhaps an attractiveness added to the person who owns that object; and finally, the attractiveness conferred upon the person who created that object. Günnur Özsoy seems to be holding in herself the probable narcissism and attractiveness of a jewellery artist. In a way, she identifies with what she makes: she seems to be thinking of the jewel on her own body and the sculptures as an extension of her own attractiveness. From here, we can infer how she constructs herself. The areas where the attractive dynamism of the created object is related with its human subject (the positions of being the owner and of being the creator) throw light on the particular unity of artificiality with vividness; the artificial, in the sense that it renders attractive the body it is added to or it refers to  – that is, it makes it appear more attractive, that it carries it to a more ideal form of the body, that it transforms it into a focus of visual pleasure and desire – contains vividness.

Günnur Özsoy's coloured volumes make up a "world" in themselves. They define the space – the exhibition hall – in which they are going to exist. The eyes move from one to the other. The factors which provide or facilitate the transition from one "islet" to the other are the shiny slipperiness of the smooth surfaces and the simplicity of the forms; and along with these, the dynamism of the desire of seeing (or of the desire in seeing, or of the desire to see). The space is actually entertaining these objects to set the desire into a dynamic motion! So much so that, seeing can turn into the urge to touch. And Günnur Özsoy seems to have aimed just for that urge. Yet, it cannot be overlooked that a certain kind of sadness also exists here. Just when we are talking about vividness and desire, what may this sadness be? This is probably the sadness created by the fact that everything is play. Play is certainly not illusion; it is something concrete, it is real. But we cannot do without imagining a meta-play which is at a higher level than play. Only children are taken in by play. It may be said that in the old times art possessed the ways of providing us with this meta-play. For then, men used to share (although they did not share the wealth) a Meaning which dominated art: man's position between life and death, the quality of his relationship with those like himself and tho world were defined. And the work of art, which succeeds in embodying this Meaning through its great competence, achieved the ability of transporting its spectator to the meta-play mentioned above.

We have gone too far and too deep. It is also certain that, since Meaning with a religious origin began to get lost in the historical process (in the West since the 18th century and in our culture starting from the 19th century), some artists and writers who have put human nudity and loneliness through exhilirating tests – which were not only painful and causing anxiety but also helping to build the future by exciting the consciousness of frredom – have undertaken various experiments related with profundity and meaning: seriousness and responsibility in the state of being bereft of meaning; new undertakings, experiments, creations; desire for meaning and the life of meaning which has become immanent or which is transported into the future; high-level play; modern transformation of profundity and truth. Whereas today, in 2001, for some time now, we do not find ourselves surprised at the fact that this seriousness and responsibility have been lost in a certain way. The means of mass communication that have developed together with technology; the fact that capitalism and politics have adapted themselves to these means, and consequently the fact that the "financial blood circulation" has acquired a new dimension on the whole planet by rendering "historical" modernism an exchange value to a certain extent and by turning it into a state of a complex sign in a network of information have led in the arts and in literature to the appearance of some works of art which are less "convinced", more "partial", and which are mostly driven by motives like simply filling up the time and "finding one's way out", which may often try to justify themselves by means of a makeshift ideology of "postmodernism", in short which may not go beyond having the quality of an empty play.

The modernist form of Günnur Özsoy's sculptures does not contain any of the claims of modernism which are already dissolving. These works of art are not connected with the "fashionable" orientations of the day. Maybe, Günnur Özsoy's claim lies in this lack of any claims on her part! These coloured volumes seem to belong to a present day which has no date (a today which has no past, no yesterday, and no present time). Yes, if we continue contemplating them within the context of art, we can speak of sadness. But the "today" which they belong to invites us to adopt an attitude which we have not been familiar with and which we have not known; this is an attitude which makes you say, "Don't think of meta-play in this exhibition; don't consider modernism; leave aside the conditions that make up your closest contemporaries; these works are Günnur Özsoy's jewels; approach them with the dynamism of actual living; they are coloured volumes; use them if you can; live to the full the attractiveness that they have, that they bring to the space, to you, to someone else, to Günnur Özsoy; the sadness that comes from the fact that everything is a play can be valid only in the context of the history of art; outside this context, you are free to act like a child; such a life is also possible!"