UNLV student Zhenyu Yue thinks about Beginning, an abstract painting by Yoko Kondo Konopik.
Yoko Kondo Konopik’s Beginning is a minimalist painting that feels both simple and deeply emotional. One of the most striking details is the smooth, sweeping curve that separates the black and white sections. It feels like a moment of transition, like something is just beginning to emerge. The title reinforces this idea—it captures that feeling of stepping into something new, whether it’s a fresh start, a major life change, or even just a shift in perspective. There’s a quiet sense of movement in the way the curve stretches across the long, horizontal canvas. It doesn’t feel abrupt or chaotic; instead, it suggests a gradual unfolding, much like how personal growth or change happens over time.
Looking at this piece, I see a reflection of how I feel right now. The contrast between light and dark mirrors the push and pull of emotions that come with navigating transitions. There’s a sense of balance, but also tension—like being caught between hesitation and progress. The curve itself reminds me of that feeling of moving forward, even if the path isn’t entirely clear yet. It’s not a sharp turn or a sudden drop, but a steady, deliberate shift. That feels familiar, especially when I think about moments where I’ve had to embrace change, even if I wasn’t entirely ready for it.
The colors, shapes, and textures in this painting also resonate with my current mood. The black and white palette feels calm yet serious, like a moment of deep reflection. The contrast makes the painting feel decisive, but the soft edges of the curve keep it from feeling rigid or harsh. It reminds me of the way thoughts unfold in moments of stillness—when everything feels clear, even if just for a moment. The elongated shape of the canvas also stretches the sense of time, making it feel like an ongoing journey rather than a single, defined moment.
This painting brings back memories of times when I stood on the edge of something new. It reminds me of the feeling of anticipation before a big decision, when everything is still uncertain, but there’s no turning back. It also makes me think of quiet, reflective moments—times when I’ve sat alone, just thinking about the next step. The curve reminds me of the gentle rise of an ocean wave, slow but steady, much like the way change unfolds in life. There’s something reassuring about it, as if it’s saying that transitions don’t have to be abrupt or overwhelming—they can be smooth, natural, and even beautiful.
Beginning is the kind of piece that doesn’t tell you exactly what to feel, but instead gives you space to find your own meaning in it. It’s about movement, balance, and transformation, all captured in the simplest of forms. And in that simplicity, it holds something deeply human—the quiet, inevitable unfolding of something new.
Image: Beginning, 2009, Oil on canvas. On view in Yoko Kondo Konopik: On Canvas (Jan. 17–May 17, 2025). Photo courtesy Krystal Ramirez.