If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint
Edward Hopper

The relationship between art and reality has fascinated philosophers and cultural theorists for millennia. The concept of mimesis—art as the imitation of nature, something pre-existing and perfect—first appeared in Plato’s Republic. The creation of symbols, objects, and stories can be seen as an attempt to replicate those aesthetic laws that make flowers, minerals, or the human body beautiful. Thus, according to Plato, art is an extension of reality, an attempt to repeat, anticipate, or capture it.

After the French Revolution, with the advent of modernity and technology, the social role of art became undeniable, bearing direct political potential. An artist no longer merely seeks to replicate reality but to influence it—through symbols, words, and gestures.

With the development of psychoanalysis, the collapse of grand political narratives in the 20th century, and the canonization of individualism as a dominant ideology of advanced economies, art has also become a means of self-identification, expression, reflection, and meditation. Artists construct their own realities and languages. With the advent of postmodernism, the idea of a singular reality became increasingly untenable, and society shifted toward the mode of "personal truth for everyone." This is exemplified by events like the inclusion of the term "post-truth" in the Oxford Dictionary in 2016. Advances in artificial intelligence and augmented reality further deepen the divide between the physical and the imagined, once again raising questions about how one connects to the other.

Is art a medium for perceiving some objective reality, or is it an attempt to construct that reality? Ultimately, what do we see when we look at a work of art, outside the political, aesthetic, and cultural realms? Is it possible to construct such a framework? What lies beyond the organized atoms that make up an artwork—or, say, an apple on a table? Where does the symbol begin, and why can these atoms make us feel joy, fear, love, or disdain? From the first handprints in the Cueva de las Manos to creating augmented reality objects, humanity remains in the domain of the visual. The eye, as an extension of the brain, is our most reliable channel for perceiving the external world. In a sense, Descartes' "I think, therefore I am" could easily be rephrased as "I see, therefore I am."

These old-new ideas gain fresh relevance in the era of deepfakes and simulation theories, which suggest that our physical world might be a complex computer program simulating existence.

Perhaps it is precisely those artists who choose the systematic construction of isolated realities as their language who can help us better understand the dichotomy of subjective and objective, real and virtual, physical and metaphysical. Therefore, as we gaze at the vibrant fruits, surreal bowls, expressively distorted apartment interiors, and tables growing out of Sayan Baigaliyev’s paintings, it becomes difficult to draw a line between the observer and the observed. There is a strong temptation to entertain the speculative notion that the world invented by the artist is no less real than the world in which his works hang—considering quantum physics, multiverse theories, and simulations, proving or disproving this idea is nearly impossible.

The thick ridges of oil paint in Baigaliyev's artworks are both profoundly physical, reminiscent of the expressive canvases of Zhanatai Shardenov or Kazuo Shiraga, and intentionally artificial, evoking the highly popular digitized multimedia exhibitions of Van Gogh or Paul Gauguin. Yet, in Baigaliyev’s case, the process is a reversal of digitization—his works only appear as if they "fell out" of Studio Ghibli animations or Ralph Bakshi films. In reality, their nature is deeply canonical, as evidenced by his use of traditional materials such as oil and canvas. It is also notable that the artist predominantly works within the still-life genre, one of the oldest in art history, renowned for its ability to capture an era, the owner’s status, and even the political climate of a country. Baigaliyev's painted world is also an optical illusion, a visual trick that challenges the expectations of the eye.