REVITALISATION or “Lazarus, come forth!”
The first expression I would use to describe the beginning of the journey called Levent Moré’s world is coming to life, or revitalization. So will I call it till the end. An extremely gracious experience. The contemplation of his paintings is an action evoking risky diving. Immersion, reemergence. At the same time reflection, in whirling unison with the colours outside and the process of diving into the spiritual depth of emotions.
There is something of great importance which leads you on the way. The parable and its biblical meaning have been intertwined with the artist’s maturing for more than two decades: it started with a few black-and-white contrast drawings in 1991, whose evasive undeliberated images have passed through time and finally Come Forth and find their completion and revitalization in this series of pictures.
Black as a colour! The play with its achromatic neutrality expresses emotions which only observe the BOUNDARY between colours! Rich colours , colours on the boundary of rawness, surrounded by soft curving shapes; brush strokes, crude and strong, like large pictograms or symbols, painted in black upon the canvas of consciousness, as if engulfing the rest of the colours. At the same time enhancing them! There is no playing with chiaroscuro (unlike the previous impressionist periods of the artist). REVITALISATION has this definitive quality which is associated with black: it has its boundaries. The artist’s sensitivity for the colorful and his enthusiastic freedom, or shall I say, his exuberant expressive colours contrast with his obvious relentless attachment to the black colour. An attachment to the powers of black, discovered and rediscovered. This is a journey with an energetic experimentator!
The sound of the paintings?! Yes, they have their sound. One with an eclectic quality. There are electric volts, voltaic arcs, and a rainbow to walk beneath. There is a little optimism, some freshness, a hypnotic element, the Jimmy Hendrix type. There is also something reminiscent of Henri Matisse (with his decorative style and plasticity). There is a lot.
The composition?! No excess, no ornamentation! Supple shapes, freedom along the vertical axis and in depth too, curves and slits. It is like peering inside the throat of a singer. The uvula is flashing against the surrounding black, and it is somewhere there, on the boundary, that the colours of the song are born. They pour out, in a vortex, and flood the listener.
The paintings are associative – that is the artist’s intention (the title of one of the pictures points to this). Association is a personal thing, private and intimate. The observer is given the freedom to indulge in making this bond between memories, feelings, sensations, all that unrealized wholeness in the innermost world of the individual, which comes to life upon stimulation through art. A journey of remembering things you have forgotten about…
And finally, let me mention The Stoyan Effect. The artist called it by the name of a friend who was the first to notice the change in colours when the light gradually became stronger. And that almost brought tears to his eyes. I realized it, too, during my adventure in the artist’s studio – the same amazing movement, coming out, leaving the limitations of the frame. Happening just like that, while the artist was standing with a hand on the light switch, turning up the light very slowly. Watching me observe the pictures coming to life. The room is filled with colours that move, even the slightest change in the light makes the colours bend, and bulge, swell and come forth, the pictograms change places, shapes acquire new outlines…you are pushed away, and then attracted again to another fragment or element of the composition. An emergence to the surface. ReVITAlisation of the painting’s world, and yours, too. Recharging for life, something you need to do when you have been entangled in the barren forest of your consciousness after great distress or grief. This is the way to look at these pictures. Lighten them up slowly, as slowly as light creeps back again into a person’s world of loss, and you find yourself again. And then the world around becomes colourful and vibrant one more time. Only the boundary remains, black and vivid, and definite. It remains there to remind you of the existence of two parallel worlds within humans; the one of endless joy that you are alive, and the inevitable abyss waiting to engulf you. A boundary which art reconciles in its own way.