Analog Roots, Digital Wings
“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”
— Søren Kierkegaard
Taking a step into the future acquires meaning only to the extent that we are able to comprehend the layers of the past; otherwise, time sweeps us into a rootless acceleration. Human beings construct their identities through the traces of memory; recollections, cultures, languages, and symbols constitute the invisible veins that nourish our roots. Yet life persistently calls us forward, toward a time not yet existent—laden with hope and uncertainty. At this very juncture, wings emerge: imagination directed toward the future, the yearning for freedom, and the desire for transformation.
Doğukan Çiğdem’s new series comes to life within the tension between roots and wings. The comic-book–like characters, derived from Neanderthals or Homo sapiens and familiar from his earlier works, reappear in this exhibition, yet they have undergone a transformation. Whereas his previous visual narratives constructed a temporal bridge from the stone pillars of Göbeklitepe to the present, this bridge now traverses a time tunnel extending into infinity.
While excavating the archaeological legacy that stretches back 12,000 years onto his canvases, the artist also incorporates the dizzying speed of today’s artificial intelligence and digital technologies into his narrative. This acceleration simultaneously excites and unsettles humanity, as traces of the past are being erased with unprecedented rapidity. This moment of rupture materializes in a Batman-like figure—at once alluring and menacing—whose strength and dark allure embody the ambivalent impact of the technological age on humanity, hovering on the threshold between the extraordinary and the perilous.
Another striking element of the new series is the incorporation of plant motifs. At times sprouting from the wings of his figures, these drawings serve as clues that extend back toward the past and our roots. The artist constructs such bridges not only on canvas but also through three-dimensional objects: he cuts an old carpet, originally adorned with vegetal motifs, into the form of Batman’s wings, thereby transforming cultural memory into a tangible form. In this way, wings that are born from the carpet’s own patterns unite the texture of the past with the imagination of the future within a single body.
Formally, Çiğdem’s paintings are interwoven with an intense graphic line, vivid contrasts, and meticulously placed voids. As viewers approach a work, they first encounter sharply contoured figures, only then being drawn toward the subtle details in the background. This multilayered structure generates a space open to excavation, both historically and emotionally.
As Simone Weil remarked, uprootedness is not merely a physical displacement, but also the severance of moral, cultural, and social bonds. In constructing wings toward the future, detachment from the past may destabilize the spiritual equilibrium of both individuals and societies. Çiğdem’s works stand precisely at this threshold, confronting the question: From where do wings emerge? Is flight possible without roots?
The exhibition thus invites its audience not merely to look but to reflect. Each canvas becomes a station along humanity’s journey, like a wing trembling in the shadow of memory. And perhaps, in the words of Igor Sikorsky:
“Technology is the wind beneath the wings of innovation.”
