When Elif Saydam begins a new series of paintings or writings, it is often based on the polyphony of stories behind objects and places. Examining our personal attachments to the things that surround us, Saydam addresses the relationship between the construction of social and aesthetic categories. Their paintings are decorated in detail with recurring symbols, sequins, beads and text excerpts, alongside embroidered and gilded elements, which the artist encountered in public and private spaces. By using the valuable material of 23-carat gold in their canvases, Saydam employs a “gimmick” – a false track that is laid – in which the shiny material trickily draws the focus to itself in order to skilfully mask what is actually at stake.
Their new paintings Making lemonade and Zu spät (IV) (both 2021) draw from Saydam’s expanded painting practice, which is often dedicated to the figure of the artist as both a carefree dilettante and indentured producer. In Zu spät (IV), for instance, ‘Kein Mensch ist illegal’ (No human being is illegal) is written in a semi-legible way on a billowing cloth mounted on a heavily decorated balcony above a Kiosk called ‘Glückskäfer’ (lucky beetle) in a typical old Berlin building. Here, the lucky beetle, embodying the search for luck, sheds light to false promises and unachievable fantasies of the good life in late capitalism (e.g., affordable housing, security, political and social equality), which, in our current times, can be attained less and less.
There’s an aphorism that if life gives you lemons, make lemonade. But what happens if it’s not possible to add the “ade” to the lemon, and your sweet drink eventually turns out to be an artificial mixture (like the “Durstlöscher” juice boxes in Making lemonade) that has nothing to do with the actual fruit anymore? Little marks reminiscent of ornamentation used in traditional Ottoman miniatures resemble red teardrops that – following Lauren Berlant’s theory – speak of the cruelness that underlies optimism.
–Sonja-Maria Borstner