Tür—the German word for ‘door’—is a striking oil painting of life-size proportions that embodies the quintessential Surrealist motif of a disembodied door, ajar, and revealing a void-like expanse suggestive of an infinite plane beyond. In Tür, the door functions symbolically, serving as a juncture between disparate realities, much like the nature of painting itself. For the first time, Turk renders this motif in oil on canvas, offering a novel interpretation of this recurring element in his oeuvre, which has previously appeared in various sculptural and printed works, such as Ajar (White) (2011) and Port (Blue) (2012). This infinite expanse stands in stark contrast to the solidity and familiarity of the Victorian-panelled door—a quotidian architectural element so deeply ingrained in our collective visual lexicon that it approaches obsolescence through sheer familiarity. Yet, Turk depicts this motif with an exquisite photorealistic technique, employing an illusionary, almost airbrushed style that breathes new life into this iconic symbol, laden with art historical and philosophical significance. In this context, the door becomes a symbol of something 'not quite'—echoing Magritte's interrogation of perception and reality.

In creating Tür, Turk engages with the rich heritage of Surrealist artists who have explored the door as a symbol of liminality and transition. From Marcel Duchamp and René Magritte to Dorothea Tanning and Gerhard Richter, these artists have employed the ajar door to delineate the boundary between the tangible and the subconscious. Turk directly references Magritte’s La Victoire (1939), which extends the concept of the door as an enigmatic passage. In a 1938 statement, Magritte described the door as a passageway to be traversed, stating that his La réponse imprévue (The Unexpected Answer) depicted “a closed door with an irregular-shaped opening revealing the night.“ His 1939 painting La Victoire furthered this idea by depicting an open door integrated into a coastal landscape. Magritte believed that a work becomes more poetically mysterious when it deviates less from what is considered normal. Turk also alludes to Duchamp’s Door, 11 Larrey (1927), a readymade that subverts the conventional function of a door by serving two rooms simultaneously—one open while the other remains closed—existing in a state of perpetual duality. This conceptual play reflects Duchamp's own dismissal of simplistic dichotomies, as encapsulated in his assertion, “There is no solution because there is no problem.” Furthermore, Tür resonates with William Blake’s 1793 poem The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, which critiques the confines of human perception—a notion later echoed by Aldous Huxley’s discussion of ”doors of perception.“ Blake’s conceptualisation suggests that our grasp of reality is often constrained and skewed by subjective experiences, adding another layer of depth to Turk’s profound exploration of this symbol.

Initially envisioned as a blank-faced door, the painting evolved into a depiction of a Victorian-panelled door, according to the artist. In this transformation, the panels themselves become windows and frames, creating a play of frames within frames. This recursive layering of visual elements invites viewers to experience a hierarchy of pictorial engagement, akin to the door of his own bedroom—a personal portal that evokes the notion of observing or intruding upon something beyond conventional sight.

Turk is known for his interest in art historical signatures and psychoanalytic symbols, as well as ‘dream objects.’ By depicting the door in this liminal state, Turk compels viewers to 'see again,' urging them to reconsider their perceptions and interpret the door through a different paradigm.