Onur Mansız is a Turkish artist who situates the human body at the core of his artistic inquiry, using it as a lens through which to explore themes of identity, existence, and subjectivity. His hyperrealistic oil paintings present the body in an ambiguous state—neither fully clothed nor entirely naked—through the superimposition of imagery that transforms the physical form into a site for the exploration of deeper philosophical and existential questions. The deliberate isolation of these figures against monochromatic backgrounds serves to detach them from specific contexts, thereby emphasizing their role in confronting universal issues of self-realization and identity. Through this conversation, we seek to gain insight into his creative process and the intellectual and existential dimensions that underpin his art.
So far, your education and creative process have evolved between Turkey and Spain. Does this dual cultural experience influence your artistic practice? Specifically, when dealing with themes of identity and the body, do you believe that these different cultural contexts shape your art?
Actually, living in Spain hasn't directly influenced my approach. The life experiences and all the interactions may have indirectly influenced me, of course. If you ask me what has influenced me, I would say cinema, particularly for the hyperrealist works I created during my first solo exhibition. So, the different cultural contexts mentioned in this question aren't so much about “living in Spain, but rather about watching the films of Spanish directors”. For instance, I was a big fan of Luis Buñuel and Pedro Almodóvar. Cinema, with its focus on the body, plays a significant role in my work.
The act of focusing on a single figure and observing it from the outside, for example, allows me to relate my photorealistic figures to this cinematic language. It's not so much different cultures, but rather different disciplines. During this time, I used projection techniques, employing the body as a medium to project the main character’s images. In some of my horizontal works, I also refer to the aspect ratios of film frames. Using cinematic realism is what truly draws me in. While 1970s American photo-realism was focused on landscapes, streets, storefront reflections, phone booths, and cars, I create more subjective, intimate scenes in a constructed reality. I structure them in parallel to cinematic language.
Awareness plays an important part in your process. How do you perceive the role of the body, and why does it occupy such a central place in the search for identity?
The human body is already the most sensitively perceived thing in our evolutionary process. Even when looking at a spot on a wall, we tend to focus on seeing a silhouette. The body is the most powerful form of communication between people. Body language goes beyond spoken language and is extremely important. When you come face to face with the bodies in my work, the awareness you feel is actually what that body conveys to you. It's the communication perceived through that body. In my paintings, I’m not trying to convey a message, but inevitably, the body I construct is designed to reflect my awareness or attachment to the concept at that moment, and the viewer tends to accept this connection. One of the most common comments I get is that my figures convey a strong emotional transfer. This has always surprised me because, as the creator, I am naturally subject to that transfer, but hearing it from the viewer is a form of validation.
‘Neither fully naked nor fully clothed.’ What does this ambiguity represent for you in terms of identity and the human experience?
In different cultures, both nudity and clothing represent different things. In Eastern cultures, it’s often said that spiritual truth is attained through modesty and concealment, whereas in Western traditions, it is achieved through exposure. I design bodies in this way to simultaneously make them both naked and clothed by reflecting images on them. In fact, they are neither fully naked nor fully clothed, nor are they a combination of both. These depictions don’t belong to any specific culture, nor do they make any statements about identity. They simply exist as default human figures. They exist as bodies freed from the labels of identity, race, and gender. I used to work with real models, but over time, I have moved away from that approach.
Could you describe your creative process in more detail? How do you progress from the idea stage to the final touch, especially in how you use yourself as the subject?
My process has changed over the past few years. I've started working with different mediums, such as three-dimensional sculptures and digital prints on Diasec. These have very different practicalities from oil painting. Interestingly, the way oil painting works and how digital print works are created are very similar. In both, I focus on the body. However, this time I fuse these images with nature, creating a new representation of the body. There's a different process when producing sculpture. It's affected by both the material and the space in which the work will be placed. While two-dimensional works are confined to a wall, in sculpture, you are also concerned with the space the piece occupies—its three-dimensionality.
But conceptually, the origins are the same. In three-dimensional sculptures, I take images from nature, alter them, and then create them using human-made materials like stainless steel to convey the image of the body. Even though the initial steps are different, the purpose is the same. It's just the language of expression that changes. Every artist has a specific pattern. From the beginning of their career, there’s usually a theme that they’re interested in and research. Inevitably, as you begin to design and construct your work, that concept becomes your foundation. For me, the body, everything related to the human body, and all the philosophical ideas it represents are at the core. The phenomenological body, its relationship with the outside world, and where this outside world is are the central themes. I combine these with whatever interests me at the time, translating them into visual language.
Your works, especially your oil paintings, are extremely rich in technical detail and realism. What challenges come with this artistic practice, and how does it impact your production process?
It’s actually a very exhausting technique. The oil painting process is far from spontaneous. It’s a lengthy, almost mechanical process, and very far from the artistic act of creation in a traditional sense. It’s entirely about the craft. It requires a significant amount of labor, and you also incorporate your own body into the process—it becomes a bodily ritual. You spend anywhere between 1-2 months working on a piece, from beginning to end. During that time, you are trying to achieve the highest level of skill your ability allows. That’s the exhausting part, which is why spontaneity is nearly impossible. Developing the framework that will guide you before starting the painting requires a distinct set of skills and knowledge, but at this stage, there is room for freedom and spontaneity, as it involves bringing something into existence from nothing. But once you begin, there’s no room for spontaneity—it’s all about technique and patience.
Is creativity something spontaneous?
It’s spontaneous within a defined pattern. There are certain limits you accept, and within that space, you are free to be spontaneous. In this creative process, there are rules. For me, as long as you stay within those rules, you can be as spontaneous as you like. It’s a choice to set those boundaries. For me, both the decision to work within or outside those boundaries is, in itself, a rule, not an external obligation.
When dealing with themes of identity and the body in your art, are there any other disciplines, artists, or writers who inspire you beyond cinema? How have these external influences affected your work?
I don’t have a specific source I turn to for inspiration, but my interests, such as 20th-century philosophy, especially philosophical thoughts on the body, inevitably influence me. In recent years, I’ve been drawn to mythological stories and folk tales from different cultures. We don’t have a clear understanding of what the human condition really is—what its limits are, and how it differs from other living creatures. I think of humans as an animal undergoing continuous transformation—an unfinished animal. In my work, I try to complete this animal for myself. Moving away from traditional ideas of the human form, I try to create my own version of humanity by detaching the body from its traditional representations.
That’s why my figures are constantly changing. Rather than focusing on the model’s gender or nudity, I focus on the fictional structure. That is why I transitioned to using digital models. In my first digital models, I didn’t use eyes. I realized that without eyes, it was incredibly difficult for the viewer to establish communication. When I add eyes—whether digital or painted—the communication between the viewer and the fictional world becomes much stronger, and the worlds feel closer.
How do you see your work evolving in the future? Will you explore new dimensions in themes of the body, identity, or existentialism, or will you delve deeper into your existing topics?
The themes I focus on are open-ended; there’s always more depth to uncover. That’s why I will continue to explore and deepen my work in this area. I’ve already expanded my mediums; I’ve moved from oil painting to three-dimensional and digital formats. Perhaps I’ll continue to broaden this. Art is something created in a closed space, and you’re not necessarily creating it for others. Even though external factors push you toward the real world, it’s these limits that keep you grounded in reality. The outside world has an influence on your production, but as an artist, you’re creating with your own purpose, not for someone else. Adapting to different situations is crucial. You can’t always produce exactly what you want, and you have to adapt to the current times, people, and the market in order to continue creating.