Deposed Skies, Stars and Hope

Whoever knew and was close with Kiki Dimoula, would have noticed that she often preferred the color grey in her attire. Melina Koan's artistic instinct seems to seems to have guided her to the choice of a kindred palette, in the creation of her most recent work, a mural - portrait of the poetess at the University of Sapenza, in Rome (Building: Marco Polo).

Echoing illustration aesthetics, with references to The Little Prince, Koan's mural breathes lyrically and dreamily, almost hyper-realistically, in dominant shades of grey, interspersed with well-balanced additions of stronger colors, in carefully selected points.  The composition transports to a familiar Hereafter, to a universal-metaphysical landscape, where the dominant figure of Kiki Dimoulas, in the well-known contemplative and profound gaze, peers at levels of light, from darkness to a brighter center. From an indeterminate higher point -- standard dimensions, after all, are obsolete in space -- like shooting stars, an equal number of men and women are shot down, in a blazing orbit. 

The poet's favorite verse of the artist, "I also have a lot of repressed skies, but I don't shoot stars", runs through the composition almost from the height of Dimoula's gaze, to the right end of the mural. A mild linear gesture, which, however, clarifies the meaningful content of the work. The verse is transcribed into the multi-meaning aesthetic language of street art, with a literalism that is not tautological. The addition, on the upper right, of a young girl (it is no coincidence that her clothing is of a more intense color) suspended by a rope - an echo of Shakhtouris, as well as a little girl, again on the right, in a dual posture of begging and collecting, echo the personal placement of the koan not only in the emblematic verse, but also in the manifestations of the condition humaine that it alludes to.

Kalliope Koundouri/ Art Historian

Is there hope? Is there a way not to kill the "stars" (every person a star)? Melina Koan answers in the affirmative through her art. The elongated, almost monumental fingers of Dimoulas and the reflections of the light source in her eyes promise an eternal dialogue of performing arts and poetry.