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Autumn
in Yaroshivka

The
Island in Fall
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I
took a few formal art classes. The most memorable one was in the studio
of Yan Martsinkevich (see the Special
Goodies page). He actually loaned me his paints and easel when
I went away for a few months, to work as an English teacher in a remote
village of Yaroshivka. There, I discovered the most charming landscapes;
I painted them almost every day. It felt as if I had discovered a
lost peaceful world where locals smiled to you as they greeted you
in the street, and spontaneously burst out singing polyphonic folk
songs on local buses, and the new passengers boarding the bus joined
the chorus in the middle of the song which went on long after the
first singer had exited on his or her stop. This is how remote the
village was. On the left are some of the lanscapes I did in Yaroshivka
using Yan's paints and easel. |
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Western
Siberia in summer

Siberian
Rock'n'Roll
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The
situation with paints got worse after I had moved Siberia. The state-run
company where I worked as a low-skilled propaganda artist, issued
me paints that had been kept in a non-heated facility at 40 degrees
below freezing. Such paints didn't hold well. Once, following Leonid
Brezhnev's death, I got an order to repaint the huge Brezhnev's portrait
that hung outside the local Party boss's window, and do Lenin's face
over it. A month later, the new blue background faded, and Leonid's
livid face showed through, right above Lenin's bald spot, glaring
from under the huge eyebrows like an eerie ghost of Communism meditating
revenge. No Photoshop for you, Lenny and Vlad!
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The
Dreamer

In
the Caucasus Mountains
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Lack
of supplies made art number one on the Top Ten List of Worst Soviet
Hobbies. I gave up and switched to writing, for which I only needed
a pencil. Writing proved to be number two on the same list, but
it's another story. Years later, in America, computers gave my artistic
self a second chance. I'm doing this for a living! Better than cleaning
Siberian toilets with an ice pick, let me tell you that.
These
are some the paintings I was able to bring with me to the US. The
rest, including a few Siberian landscapes and a whole bunch of pencil
and ink portraits are still in Ukraine.
This
virtual gallery will grow as more pieces become available.
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A
Forest Path
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Old
Acacia
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The
Island in WInter
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Aging
Pinnoccio who'd never made it
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