Working primarily with animation and drawing, Özgür Kar creates sparse, slow-moving scenes that blur theatre, sculpture, and digital image. His black-and-white figures—elongated bodies confined to the edge of a screen—move in nearly imperceptible loops, suspended between emergence and withdrawal. Working with voice actors and musicians, he layers these images with soundscapes of solemn repetition and dark humour, shaping atmospheres that feel at once intimate and otherworldly. Drawing on medieval allegories of death, those late-Middle-Age depictions in which Death appears not as terror but as an ever-present companion, Kar recasts this figure in contemporary terms: patient, wry, and strangely empathetic, a presence that hovers rather than intrudes.

Within the framework of Mourning and Melancholia, Kar’s practice resonates as a meditation on the thresholds between presence and disappearance. His characters hover in states of suspension, their murmured monologues revealing both vulnerability and dark wit, as though mourning were not simply an emotion but a mode of being. The works resist narrative resolution, asking the viewer instead to remain with their melancholic drift: the slow awakening, the repetitive breath, the quiet acknowledgment of mortality. Through these distilled scenes, Kar offers a contemplative counterpoint to the noise of contemporary life—a space where grief and humour, fear and tenderness, intertwine, and where even the most ephemeral gesture carries the weight of an enduring, if fragile, existence.