Untitled 1968

Editor: This oil painting is called "Untitled," and it’s by Ivan Tovar, from 1968. It’s odd, isn't it? These almost cartoonish shapes feel very deliberate, but I can't quite put my finger on their meaning. What do you make of it? Curator: "Odd" is a good start. For me, Tovar’s paintings always feel like wandering through a very vivid, slightly unsettling dream. There's a push-and-pull between familiar shapes – cubes, spheres, cones – and these biomorphic, almost intestinal forms rendered in a strange but appealing palette. Look at the juxtaposition of rigid geometry and these curvaceous yellow shapes; does it evoke any feelings? Editor: It’s unsettling, like you said. Are those meant to be bodies? They're so distorted and fragmented. And there are all these holes. Curator: Indeed! The recurring motif of orifices and strange couplings suggests a fascination, or maybe even a fear, of the body. It reminds me of early surrealist explorations of the unconscious. Perhaps Tovar’s presenting us with a landscape of the mind, complete with its anxieties and hidden desires. It’s all very theatrical, don't you think? Editor: Yes, the arrangement feels almost staged. Like these geometric forms are actors in some strange play. It’s much more disturbing than I initially thought. I didn't realize there was so much depth. Curator: Precisely. These seemingly playful elements become conduits for darker undercurrents. But hey, art is a Rorschach test; what resonates for you may be completely different for me. And that’s fantastic, isn’t it? Editor: Definitely. I'll never look at "simple" abstraction the same way. Curator: Neither will I, especially when there’s something more to extract from it. It’s the surrealism; like an egg from the mind of someone who thought it not normal but rather extraordinary.