Blog
creative process, new works, texts, exhibitions, moments from the workshop
- Irina Merkulovaartist
February 26, 2026
The process of creating and describing the work "The Sharpness of Falling" from the project "In the arms of a Bacchante"
It began as a small sketch depicting the silhouette of a nude woman falling downward, entangled by several geometric figures. Later, I developed the composition, making it denser and more complex, and painted it in color on a large format.
The main visual accent is the contrast between sharp and smooth forms. The lines of the female body, in opposition to the strict lines of the triangles, create tension, emphasizing its fragility and further "sharpening" the geometry of the triangles. Compositionally, the triangles resemble broken glass; this is also shown in color: some of them are painted as semi-transparent. At first glance, this creates a somber context: the woman is shattered and falling downward.
The sensation of flight, or rather the moment of free fall, is conveyed through the curved, inverted body of the woman: balance is completely lost. The triangles could serve as temporary support, but the woman does not seek to grasp them. She no longer seeks support.
The main visual accent is the contrast between sharp and smooth forms. The lines of the female body, in opposition to the strict lines of the triangles, create tension, emphasizing its fragility and further "sharpening" the geometry of the triangles. Compositionally, the triangles resemble broken glass; this is also shown in color: some of them are painted as semi-transparent. At first glance, this creates a somber context: the woman is shattered and falling downward.
The sensation of flight, or rather the moment of free fall, is conveyed through the curved, inverted body of the woman: balance is completely lost. The triangles could serve as temporary support, but the woman does not seek to grasp them. She no longer seeks support.
Notably, there are six triangles. Arranged three on each side, they resemble wings. This is a reference to the figure of the "Six-winged Seraph," who was an angel; and angels, as is known, have the ability to fall from heaven because they possess free will, which makes the act of "falling" a kind of "side effect" of freedom.
Two interpretations: the fall due to completely shattered supports and the plot of the "fallen angel" can be correlated as form and content, respectively. Then, "broken glass" acts not as a metaphor of destruction, but as the discovery of one's own freedom acquired through the fall. Here, autonomy acquires a free flow, which is expressed in the smooth and intricate forms, as if enveloping the central element of the work.
Overall, the composition of the painting has an indeterminate form – it is an attempt to deprive the viewer of visual grounding. Together with the emphasis on the completely nude female body and the pointed wings, the work captures a moment of piercing freedom.
Two interpretations: the fall due to completely shattered supports and the plot of the "fallen angel" can be correlated as form and content, respectively. Then, "broken glass" acts not as a metaphor of destruction, but as the discovery of one's own freedom acquired through the fall. Here, autonomy acquires a free flow, which is expressed in the smooth and intricate forms, as if enveloping the central element of the work.
Overall, the composition of the painting has an indeterminate form – it is an attempt to deprive the viewer of visual grounding. Together with the emphasis on the completely nude female body and the pointed wings, the work captures a moment of piercing freedom.
February 17th, 2026
I try to find the time and do not forget to record the different stages of work creation. At first it seems like a chore, especially when you're in a creative rush. But as time passes, these pictures become an indispensable accompaniment to the work, allowing the viewer to become an accomplice to its birth.
February 1, 2026
When I completed the graphic "Seething Absence", it became obvious to me that it was similar to another work done many years ago, "The Eye" from 2003...
When I completed the graphics of "Seething Absence", it became obvious to me that it was similar to another work done many years ago, "The Eye" from 2003.
The first thing I noticed was the mirrored arrangement of the compositions. But more on that later. First, let's talk about each work individually.
"The Eye" (2003)
The monochrome, black-and-white graphics depict a flowering plant. The bud has opened: an eye peeks out, examining its root system. The phrase "look at the root" comes to mind – in the plot of this work, it is captured literally and, apparently, means an attempt to see your own essence, in other words, "find your beginning" or answer yourself "what is the reason for me?". Such a statement of the question and immersion in deep reflection were natural for my age in 2003 — I was only 19 years old.
It is quite interesting that the graphics became a kind of premonition of further events in my life: six months after the creation of this work, I had to go far away to another city, as an adult, independent unit. The move completely changed my usual lifestyle and environment. This led to the discovery of one's own "torn out" and "de–energized", but also the opportunity to start everything from scratch, to become this very "beginning" and "reason" for one's own story. Such an interpretation is similar to an attempt to answer a question posed from within, by events from the outside. But it would be more accurate to designate this as an increase in the relevance of the request for one's own beginning through fateful changes.
So, the "Eye". A plant with an eye-flower is depicted on a black background. There are few white spots, they seem to win back and assert their right from the gloomy environment, forming a sharp contrast, which enhances the drama of the plot. The central and brightest place is the eye, as if it had broken through from the darkness, finally opened, seeing something extraordinary in front of it. The moment of surprise, when the flower has not yet realized what is in front of it, but has already surreptitiously guessed, is captured on paper.
The "Eye" technique is a spot and a line. With the help of the continuous contour of the plant's shape, the closed composition of the stem is successfully conveyed, the ends of which converge and close in the flower's view of its own root. It is obvious that a ring is depicted in front of the viewer, along the circular trajectory of which the eye wanders.
The first thing I noticed was the mirrored arrangement of the compositions. But more on that later. First, let's talk about each work individually.
"The Eye" (2003)
The monochrome, black-and-white graphics depict a flowering plant. The bud has opened: an eye peeks out, examining its root system. The phrase "look at the root" comes to mind – in the plot of this work, it is captured literally and, apparently, means an attempt to see your own essence, in other words, "find your beginning" or answer yourself "what is the reason for me?". Such a statement of the question and immersion in deep reflection were natural for my age in 2003 — I was only 19 years old.
It is quite interesting that the graphics became a kind of premonition of further events in my life: six months after the creation of this work, I had to go far away to another city, as an adult, independent unit. The move completely changed my usual lifestyle and environment. This led to the discovery of one's own "torn out" and "de–energized", but also the opportunity to start everything from scratch, to become this very "beginning" and "reason" for one's own story. Such an interpretation is similar to an attempt to answer a question posed from within, by events from the outside. But it would be more accurate to designate this as an increase in the relevance of the request for one's own beginning through fateful changes.
So, the "Eye". A plant with an eye-flower is depicted on a black background. There are few white spots, they seem to win back and assert their right from the gloomy environment, forming a sharp contrast, which enhances the drama of the plot. The central and brightest place is the eye, as if it had broken through from the darkness, finally opened, seeing something extraordinary in front of it. The moment of surprise, when the flower has not yet realized what is in front of it, but has already surreptitiously guessed, is captured on paper.
The "Eye" technique is a spot and a line. With the help of the continuous contour of the plant's shape, the closed composition of the stem is successfully conveyed, the ends of which converge and close in the flower's view of its own root. It is obvious that a ring is depicted in front of the viewer, along the circular trajectory of which the eye wanders.
And there is no way out, the whole drawing is located strictly within the boundaries of the sheet.: it rests against the edges, creating a feeling of crowding and hopelessness. The answer to the question regarding one's own origin has not been found, instead, a deceptive idea of the answer (the root) arose, which led to the formation of an illusion of a higher order — about one's own integrity. This is how, apparently, walking in a circle begins - a vicious circle of reflection, which can be called a "small circle", as opposed to Nietzschean eternal return.
The new work "Seething Absence" demonstrates a completely different structure. As I have already mentioned, compositionally it is like a mirror image of the "Eye" graphics, that is, its opposite. The paper does not depict a plant, but something similar. Through the botanical form, a metaphor is demonstrated for another representation – a view of the absence of its own beginning. On the sheet, the composition is not completely positioned, but goes beyond the boundaries, which creates a sense of movement and duration.
The graphics technique is point-based. It is dynamic, it has a lot of air and rhythm, it works for a general feeling of lightness and softness. The dots also create a foam effect on the image, which supports the idea of bubbling as a process of transition from one state to another, which generally indicates the idea of the work as an image of the boundary of non-existence / being, as pulsating.
In general, the graphics are not contrasting, they are calm, measured, without sudden changes and fluctuations in the tone and details of the composition. Nothing screams or "climbs" into the foreground, the bubbling of many small elements within the oval-shaped contour, which seem to be in a cradle, happens as if by itself, without effort and drama.
These graphics are abstract. Instead of the literal eye in the central part of the image, there is its metaphor: the eye no longer just looks, but sees the absence of its origin in the place, the gap, the opening of the ring depicted earlier in the work "The Eye". The discovery of absence entails its own extension to infinity, represented as a multitude of possibilities and probabilities of whatever, in the form of an innumerable number of small round elements. There is no integrity here, but only a bubbling potency.
The new work "Seething Absence" demonstrates a completely different structure. As I have already mentioned, compositionally it is like a mirror image of the "Eye" graphics, that is, its opposite. The paper does not depict a plant, but something similar. Through the botanical form, a metaphor is demonstrated for another representation – a view of the absence of its own beginning. On the sheet, the composition is not completely positioned, but goes beyond the boundaries, which creates a sense of movement and duration.
The graphics technique is point-based. It is dynamic, it has a lot of air and rhythm, it works for a general feeling of lightness and softness. The dots also create a foam effect on the image, which supports the idea of bubbling as a process of transition from one state to another, which generally indicates the idea of the work as an image of the boundary of non-existence / being, as pulsating.
In general, the graphics are not contrasting, they are calm, measured, without sudden changes and fluctuations in the tone and details of the composition. Nothing screams or "climbs" into the foreground, the bubbling of many small elements within the oval-shaped contour, which seem to be in a cradle, happens as if by itself, without effort and drama.
These graphics are abstract. Instead of the literal eye in the central part of the image, there is its metaphor: the eye no longer just looks, but sees the absence of its origin in the place, the gap, the opening of the ring depicted earlier in the work "The Eye". The discovery of absence entails its own extension to infinity, represented as a multitude of possibilities and probabilities of whatever, in the form of an innumerable number of small round elements. There is no integrity here, but only a bubbling potency.
January 10, 2026
In the workshop
December 28, 2025
Cloud Dancer 2026
Pantone named the color of 2026 "Cloud Dancer" (cloud dancer or dancer in the clouds). The choice of color in this case is not just an indication of the direction of the color palette in the fashion industry, but a determination of the direction of the social mood in the coming year or the identification of what is already present in society, but is not yet obvious. The PANTONE organization sets a conceptual vector — color, in accordance with which it is recommended to build a creative process based on the symbolic and emotional dimension of the proposed shade, when creating new works in various fields, usually in the creative industry (fashion, design, advertising, art, etc.). The recommended color sets a symbolic frame, emotional tension and the system of signifiers through associations, metaphors, its history, etc.
What about the color "Cloud Dancer"? First of all, it is a neutral color — cloudy white. White — in Goethe's theory of color (the phenomenology of color) is not color, but light. This is a kind of source code, a kind of "white sheet". The beginning, the potency for the rest of the colors is an optimistic note. In Newton's theory, white is the result of mixing all the other colors of the spectrum. From this point of view, white is associated with "white noise": the result of a dense mixture of varieties, of which there are so many that they are no longer perceived as a multitude. Here we can draw a parallel with the fatigue of the information background, the overload of events and news in the Internet environment and everyday life. Fatigue is also indicated not by pure white, but by grayish-white — in the "Cloudy White" version of the color. Gray is a passive, indifferent, boring color (Goethe); it is also a neutral point on the achromatic axis (Goering, opponent theory) — this neutrality can be defined as "not this, not that" (not black and not white). It is also not a zero point on the axis, but not as an absence, but as being "in between" — a point of potential choice, but for now pauses and waits, from the point of view of dynamics. "Cloudy white" is closer to white, so the choice seems to have already been made, the point of neutrality is shifted, but it's all about light. The color remains neutral.
Further, gray is white with reduced brightness (Newton, physics of color); in this interpretation, grayish-white is not passive or boring, but moderate, restrained, modest — not "flashy". Still, "cloudy" is not gray, but grayish—white - it's white + a little gray, as if the expression "there's a fly in the ointment" is expressed in color, which indicates that something has clouded the bright future, which is predicted to be cloudy — here is an indication of a pessimistic note.
What about the color "Cloud Dancer"? First of all, it is a neutral color — cloudy white. White — in Goethe's theory of color (the phenomenology of color) is not color, but light. This is a kind of source code, a kind of "white sheet". The beginning, the potency for the rest of the colors is an optimistic note. In Newton's theory, white is the result of mixing all the other colors of the spectrum. From this point of view, white is associated with "white noise": the result of a dense mixture of varieties, of which there are so many that they are no longer perceived as a multitude. Here we can draw a parallel with the fatigue of the information background, the overload of events and news in the Internet environment and everyday life. Fatigue is also indicated not by pure white, but by grayish-white — in the "Cloudy White" version of the color. Gray is a passive, indifferent, boring color (Goethe); it is also a neutral point on the achromatic axis (Goering, opponent theory) — this neutrality can be defined as "not this, not that" (not black and not white). It is also not a zero point on the axis, but not as an absence, but as being "in between" — a point of potential choice, but for now pauses and waits, from the point of view of dynamics. "Cloudy white" is closer to white, so the choice seems to have already been made, the point of neutrality is shifted, but it's all about light. The color remains neutral.
Further, gray is white with reduced brightness (Newton, physics of color); in this interpretation, grayish-white is not passive or boring, but moderate, restrained, modest — not "flashy". Still, "cloudy" is not gray, but grayish—white - it's white + a little gray, as if the expression "there's a fly in the ointment" is expressed in color, which indicates that something has clouded the bright future, which is predicted to be cloudy — here is an indication of a pessimistic note.
It is especially worth paying attention to the name of the recommended color — "Cloud Dancer". Pointing to "cloudy" demonstrates an imaginary picture of the heavens. Airy and fluffy clouds — freedom — soft and cozy, undisturbed, as if it had not been won back, but received as a gift. This otherworldly freedom is one that arises not as a result of overcoming difficulties, but of avoiding them, in other words, escape into an illusion; dance in this case expresses a forced carefree attitude; lightness is like taking responsibility for consequences that you are not the cause of. You might think that clouds are something about flying, but if so, then it's impossible, since they don't fly during thick clouds. Nevertheless, it is not a ban on flying, but forced waiting (Goering) in a state of moderation and calm (Goethe), which is possible if you trust what is happening. But what is the basis for such trust? Maybe it is possible only by clouding the mind? ("sky-high")
And yet, instead of flying, PANTONE suggests dancing, but "cloudy". In modern reality, the definition of "cloud" is associated with cloud storage on the Internet. This is a place, a space where information can be stored, and although in one interpretation this color may indicate general fatigue from information noise, nevertheless such fatigue becomes an integral part of every person's life, as a result of which one can imagine a "head in the clouds", which also gives rise to many related ideas — from "fog in the head, "to the possibility of the human mind reaching for heaven, even if it is still "vague." Although vagueness may be associated with the inability to see the future due to limited ideas about it. In conditions of total fatigue, dancing looks strange and rather resembles the dance of a patient in a psychiatric clinic, for whom the serenity that comes after fatigue is not a virtue, but a diagnosis. On the other hand, dance is a creative process, a way of self—expression; then information noise and large amounts of data (cloud storage) may be offered as a material for creativity.
In general, I would characterize such a color recommendation as optimistic, indicating the possibility of a pause due to restraint and modesty. But the pause is not as a state of "fading", but as a dynamic process (dance), in order to extract the potential for work from the global "noise". Also, an indication of moderation is the possibility of detecting redundancy in different areas of life, in general, and, apparently, in order to put one's emotional state in order, in particular.
I would describe the color "Cloud Dancer" as exalted asceticism. Passion in dancing with moderation. It's about self-discipline, of course.
And yet, instead of flying, PANTONE suggests dancing, but "cloudy". In modern reality, the definition of "cloud" is associated with cloud storage on the Internet. This is a place, a space where information can be stored, and although in one interpretation this color may indicate general fatigue from information noise, nevertheless such fatigue becomes an integral part of every person's life, as a result of which one can imagine a "head in the clouds", which also gives rise to many related ideas — from "fog in the head, "to the possibility of the human mind reaching for heaven, even if it is still "vague." Although vagueness may be associated with the inability to see the future due to limited ideas about it. In conditions of total fatigue, dancing looks strange and rather resembles the dance of a patient in a psychiatric clinic, for whom the serenity that comes after fatigue is not a virtue, but a diagnosis. On the other hand, dance is a creative process, a way of self—expression; then information noise and large amounts of data (cloud storage) may be offered as a material for creativity.
In general, I would characterize such a color recommendation as optimistic, indicating the possibility of a pause due to restraint and modesty. But the pause is not as a state of "fading", but as a dynamic process (dance), in order to extract the potential for work from the global "noise". Also, an indication of moderation is the possibility of detecting redundancy in different areas of life, in general, and, apparently, in order to put one's emotional state in order, in particular.
I would describe the color "Cloud Dancer" as exalted asceticism. Passion in dancing with moderation. It's about self-discipline, of course.
December 22, 2025
A new graphic art exhibition about the invisible spotlight. Something that causes a glance, but does not allow itself to be seen.
December 3, 2025
When elegant graphics meet brutal industrial aesthetics, a contrast is created against the background of classical architecture, demonstrating freedom of thought.
The visualization shows the works "Interested Indifference" and "Winged Fullness" from the "Heart of the Flying Fish" series
November 21st, 2025
"PLANET OF ANOTHER IMPOSSIBILITY" is my new project about an impossible encounter; not because of the absence of a meeting as a certain point at the intersection of geographical, temporal and fatal trajectories, but because of a radical discrepancy in the ways of existence.
November 30th, 2025
The space in which the interior is created becomes a common aesthetic dimension for various objects.
Being a priori in the field of aesthetics, I am interested in creating conditions for the intersection of the functions of these objects — utilitarian, belonging to the design, and symbolic, belonging to the work of art.
AI here is not the author, but the co-author of speculative visualization.
The visualization shows the work "Soap bubble" from the series "Random subject"
September 17th, 2025
"Melancholy", engraving, Durer, 1514.
Once, I saw a reproduction of Dürer's engraving "Melencolia". It was back in my distant childhood. It was then that the beauty of the monochrome image became clearly visible to me. In that fateful moment, I gained access to an understanding that through such a method of drawing, an artist is capable of expressing a special state—one that subsequently acquired the characteristics of a distinct art form, which, in my view, is perceived primarily on a mental level. Though I was still quite a child, I looked at "Melencolia" and seemed to understand that what Dürer wanted to convey could be expressed by only one thing—the absence of color. Black-and-white graphics became melancholic art for me. It immerses you in a state where emotions and feelings gradually fade away, and thoughts become clearer. You seem to abstract yourself from everything vain and transient, and your view of the world becomes dispassionate. Time stops, and the world freezes. Colors gradually dull and vanish. At some point, the mental construction of the world is laid bare. It holds no feelings or emotions. There are only outlines and shadows of objects indicating their presence. It is a kind of global skeleton onto which patches of color are later affixed. And there is only one feeling regarding this entire process—enchantment with the line.
September 3, 2025
The visualization of the "Echo of Confusion" painting paired with an elegant console is a perfect example of biomorphic aesthetics from Michael Sean Stolworthy, USA
The visualization shows the work "Echo of confusion" from the series "Excessive uncertainty"
August 20th, 2025
New work "Cradle"
Paper, gel pen
21x30cm
2025
August 2, 2025
Recently, I returned from China. I spent several days in Guangzhou, Guangdong province. My Cantonese friends welcomed me warmly and suggested I explore traditional Chinese painting, gifting me everything necessary for this pursuit: watercolor paints and a set for practicing Chinese calligraphy.
The people in China are incredibly caring and attentive, truly understanding the importance of cultural exchange. One lifetime would not be enough to fully study this country. It is vast, and each province has its own cultural distinctiveness and language. Moreover, China is remarkably diverse—rich with ancient history and cutting-edge modern technologies simultaneously.
The people in China are incredibly caring and attentive, truly understanding the importance of cultural exchange. One lifetime would not be enough to fully study this country. It is vast, and each province has its own cultural distinctiveness and language. Moreover, China is remarkably diverse—rich with ancient history and cutting-edge modern technologies simultaneously.
Today's China is truly awe-inspiring. What an immense journey they have undertaken to reach where they are now. And yet, not so long ago, everything was completely different. This transformation is powerfully depicted in the film "Caught by the Tides" by Jia Zhangke. It is a wonderful example of auteur cinema, offering a cultural cross-section of a country through the lens of a single generation. I highly recommend watching it.
a shot from the film "The Romantic Generation" by Jia Zhangke
July 9th, 2025
Welcome to my new online exhibition!
This time, I posted not only finished paintings, but also sketches, working drawings, and graphics related to the theme of "Excessive Uncertainty."
May 25, 2025
Series of works "Rain of melancholics", 2025
Melancholy is like a feeling of free fall, shattered into many parts of the self: each of which remains alive, but closed from the cold world, which still hopes to warm itself with its own, but already colorless fire.
May 18, 2025
The project "Two Black Cubes" was presented at the Elohovskiy Gallery in 2023.
His task was to make the viewer an active participant in the creative process with the help of texts and #notesoftheunconscious, which do not give the reader the opportunity to recognize their meaning, shifting his search from the sphere of his own imagination.
May 14th, 2025
New jobs! The series "Four reasons for the fall", graphics, 2025
April 1, 2025
Mickey Mouse as an object and medium
Mickey Mouse became the hero of Disney cartoons and a universal symbol of celebration, childhood, and joy for people around the world. The image of the kind little mouse is presented to the public as an aspect of human existence, expressed through unclouded naivety, joyful carefreeness, friendliness, and reckless courage. Mickey Mouse lives in an idealized world resembling a perpetual celebration. By inviting the viewer into this world, the cartoon hero seems to promise a long-awaited gift—which could be anything, but necessarily carries joy and hope. Mickey's innate kindness is unshakable, as if he himself becomes a gift to several generations of people—an animated character calling them into a world of fairy-tale magic.
As a symbol of American pop culture, the little mouse's image has spread far beyond the US, remaining an integral attribute of most celebrations and photo shoots, firmly establishing the visual patterns of its own style. At the same time, while being an immensely popular character in mass culture, the kind little mouse also bravely endured its complex transformations, finding himself within postmodern art. Having passed the stress test of the deconstruction era, Mickey's image remained within the new semantic context of culture, preserving its characteristic visual features. This signifies that Mickey Mouse has acquired a serious status—that of a classic.
In contemporary times, the image of the mouse with round ears is successfully stylized and used in all sorts of contextual environments without losing reference to the prototype. Now Mickey's image exists in the form of objects of varying levels of utilitarian functionality: from footwear to works of contemporary art. For a character who has become cultural heritage, oblivion holds no fear. The void left behind by heroes who were popular in the past but have since disappeared does not affect Mickey. Even with their absence "on the body of history," the little mouse has managed to make friends with it.
As a symbol of American pop culture, the little mouse's image has spread far beyond the US, remaining an integral attribute of most celebrations and photo shoots, firmly establishing the visual patterns of its own style. At the same time, while being an immensely popular character in mass culture, the kind little mouse also bravely endured its complex transformations, finding himself within postmodern art. Having passed the stress test of the deconstruction era, Mickey's image remained within the new semantic context of culture, preserving its characteristic visual features. This signifies that Mickey Mouse has acquired a serious status—that of a classic.
In contemporary times, the image of the mouse with round ears is successfully stylized and used in all sorts of contextual environments without losing reference to the prototype. Now Mickey's image exists in the form of objects of varying levels of utilitarian functionality: from footwear to works of contemporary art. For a character who has become cultural heritage, oblivion holds no fear. The void left behind by heroes who were popular in the past but have since disappeared does not affect Mickey. Even with their absence "on the body of history," the little mouse has managed to make friends with it.
March 25, 2025
New!
The series "In conditions of high entropy", 2025
September 25, 2025
Essay
March 25, 2025
Description of the Swallow job
The space, resembling an empty room with a window, serves as a metaphor for the two states in which the subject exists—the internal and the external. The room represents the subject itself; beyond the window lies the world.
Something resembling tulle hangs in the window frame. In terms of color and the form of its geometric planes, the work conveys a sense of anxiety. Tension is palpable in the lines. The gray tone communicates a decline of spirit and a gloomy mood. The walls of the metaphorical room are uncomfortably cold, and the dark planes of shadow feel oppressive. One feels a desire to escape this space.
If one abstracts oneself and does not immerse in the constraining atmosphere of the depiction, an image begins to emerge in the shadows of the tulle, gradually becoming recognizable. A familiar silhouette is elusively woven into the symbolic field, resting at the junction of the internal and the external, forming a semantic dimension that abolishes the resulting sense of hopelessness. Three dark geometric figures are arranged to depict a swallow soaring away. The two black wings and tail appear before the viewer in a new light.
The swallow is a symbol of renewal; returning home every spring, the little bird initiates another life cycle. Upon discovering this, the work's decadent tone acquires a positive hue. Now, the joyless reality of the impossibility of freeing oneself from the oppressive constriction of the walls is replaced by the discovery of the ability to expand one's own space to the world in which the swallow dwells—the sky and the earth.
Something resembling tulle hangs in the window frame. In terms of color and the form of its geometric planes, the work conveys a sense of anxiety. Tension is palpable in the lines. The gray tone communicates a decline of spirit and a gloomy mood. The walls of the metaphorical room are uncomfortably cold, and the dark planes of shadow feel oppressive. One feels a desire to escape this space.
If one abstracts oneself and does not immerse in the constraining atmosphere of the depiction, an image begins to emerge in the shadows of the tulle, gradually becoming recognizable. A familiar silhouette is elusively woven into the symbolic field, resting at the junction of the internal and the external, forming a semantic dimension that abolishes the resulting sense of hopelessness. Three dark geometric figures are arranged to depict a swallow soaring away. The two black wings and tail appear before the viewer in a new light.
The swallow is a symbol of renewal; returning home every spring, the little bird initiates another life cycle. Upon discovering this, the work's decadent tone acquires a positive hue. Now, the joyless reality of the impossibility of freeing oneself from the oppressive constriction of the walls is replaced by the discovery of the ability to expand one's own space to the world in which the swallow dwells—the sky and the earth.
March 25, 2025
The film "Parthenope", by Paolo Sorrentino, 2024
Charming, unhurried, and atmospheric. Measured and calm, yet dense in content, the film is complex in how it intertwines the main plot line with metaphors and surrealistic images that enhance the subtle nuances of concealed meaning. It is impossible to say what this film is about after just one viewing. Many symbolic dimensions are skillfully woven into the plot. This is only possible if everything happening shares something common. And in the film, it is not the protagonist, as it might seem at first glance, but the question she asks: 'What is anthropology?' Or, roughly speaking, 'What is a human being?'
Thus, the director presents two main destinies: those of the brother and sister—Parthenope and Raimondo. I characterize them as two opposite vectors: towards life and towards death. Parthenope is born in the sea. Her life path is directed from the marine element toward the future (Naples) and is symbolized by a gift—a golden carriage, in which she, like a queen, begins her journey into the future. The only thing clouding this celebration of life is Parthenope's question, posed on the verge of despair: What is life, and what is she within it?
Meanwhile, her brother Raimondo is overshadowed by the fact that Parthenope, with whom he is hopelessly in love, is completely free in her sorrow. This sorrow is coupled with an uninhibitedness that is unbearable for him, something he is unable to cope with. His question is: Who is Parthenope to him? Ultimately, Raimondo commits suicide, returning to the sea, moving in the opposite direction from Parthenope: from life into the marine depths. At this moment, Raimondo's carriage appears for the first time—at his own funeral ceremony—symbolizing his final journey.
The brother's funeral coincides with the return of a cholera epidemic to the city, signs of which were discovered immediately after his death. By returning to the sea, the brother initiated a pathological process. One is born in the element of water, but does not die there. The appearance of cholera also symbolizes the sense of guilt that arose as a reaction to Raimondo's suicide. Guilt, like an epidemic, infects his loved ones, turning them into the living dead.
Parthenope first mentions cholera at a picnic with a demonstratively wealthy suitor, shortly before her brother's death. She refuses the mussels that the wealthy man offers her to taste, stating that they were once the cause of the spread of cholera in Naples. But she is refusing not just dinner.
Thus, the director presents two main destinies: those of the brother and sister—Parthenope and Raimondo. I characterize them as two opposite vectors: towards life and towards death. Parthenope is born in the sea. Her life path is directed from the marine element toward the future (Naples) and is symbolized by a gift—a golden carriage, in which she, like a queen, begins her journey into the future. The only thing clouding this celebration of life is Parthenope's question, posed on the verge of despair: What is life, and what is she within it?
Meanwhile, her brother Raimondo is overshadowed by the fact that Parthenope, with whom he is hopelessly in love, is completely free in her sorrow. This sorrow is coupled with an uninhibitedness that is unbearable for him, something he is unable to cope with. His question is: Who is Parthenope to him? Ultimately, Raimondo commits suicide, returning to the sea, moving in the opposite direction from Parthenope: from life into the marine depths. At this moment, Raimondo's carriage appears for the first time—at his own funeral ceremony—symbolizing his final journey.
The brother's funeral coincides with the return of a cholera epidemic to the city, signs of which were discovered immediately after his death. By returning to the sea, the brother initiated a pathological process. One is born in the element of water, but does not die there. The appearance of cholera also symbolizes the sense of guilt that arose as a reaction to Raimondo's suicide. Guilt, like an epidemic, infects his loved ones, turning them into the living dead.
Parthenope first mentions cholera at a picnic with a demonstratively wealthy suitor, shortly before her brother's death. She refuses the mussels that the wealthy man offers her to taste, stating that they were once the cause of the spread of cholera in Naples. But she is refusing not just dinner.
She refuses the man in every way, unafraid of appearing impolite. She understands that this connection contradicts her, holds no mystery, is disgustingly banal, and contagiously dangerous if one were to follow that path.
Parthenope always emerges FROM the sea, responding to a call whose source is a stirring unknown. She is driven by a question—which, in part, is herself—and she is in no hurry to answer it. And if Parthenope knows in advance where the chain of events leads and how it will end, she disappears. The question shapes her fate and transforms the despair that overshadows the joy of life.
Her brother Raimondo, in turn, seems to receive an answer to his question, but lacks the strength to cope with it. Found in complete hopelessness, he changes the trajectory of his life path to the opposite—into the sea water—resulting in death, guilt, and cholera. So what did he understand? Two moments indicate this.
In one of the dialogues, Parthenope voices the reason for her brother's suicide as the fact that "he confused the insignificant with the most important," continuing her thought about young love, which is worth nothing. It seems Parthenope believes that Raimondo was captive to his illusions.
Later, in one of the plotlines, a Catholic priest, spoken of as a devil, says that "those who know the ineffable die young and lonely." Here, the director points to Raimondo, introducing the version that he understood something truly important, implying some kind of truth. Parthenope speaks of total illusion; the priest speaks of total truth or reality. The truth that Parthenope seeks perhaps became available to her brother too early, proving deadly for him. Or perhaps total illusion, as the non-recognition of the truth that had already emerged, ruined him. What exactly became the cause of Raimondo's death remains unknown.
Parthenope receives the answer to her main question many years later, when she is ready for it. The knowledge of who she truly was was with her from birth; she simply needed to see it.
Parthenope always emerges FROM the sea, responding to a call whose source is a stirring unknown. She is driven by a question—which, in part, is herself—and she is in no hurry to answer it. And if Parthenope knows in advance where the chain of events leads and how it will end, she disappears. The question shapes her fate and transforms the despair that overshadows the joy of life.
Her brother Raimondo, in turn, seems to receive an answer to his question, but lacks the strength to cope with it. Found in complete hopelessness, he changes the trajectory of his life path to the opposite—into the sea water—resulting in death, guilt, and cholera. So what did he understand? Two moments indicate this.
In one of the dialogues, Parthenope voices the reason for her brother's suicide as the fact that "he confused the insignificant with the most important," continuing her thought about young love, which is worth nothing. It seems Parthenope believes that Raimondo was captive to his illusions.
Later, in one of the plotlines, a Catholic priest, spoken of as a devil, says that "those who know the ineffable die young and lonely." Here, the director points to Raimondo, introducing the version that he understood something truly important, implying some kind of truth. Parthenope speaks of total illusion; the priest speaks of total truth or reality. The truth that Parthenope seeks perhaps became available to her brother too early, proving deadly for him. Or perhaps total illusion, as the non-recognition of the truth that had already emerged, ruined him. What exactly became the cause of Raimondo's death remains unknown.
Parthenope receives the answer to her main question many years later, when she is ready for it. The knowledge of who she truly was was with her from birth; she simply needed to see it.
December 13, 2024
The new online graphic exhibition "The Heart of the Flying Fish" has already been published!
The title "The Heart of the Flying Fish" indicates that the works illustrate the image of experiencing being as...
November 21st, 2024
Jim Jarmusch's 2009 film The Limits of Control
This film is considered not the most successful in the director's body of work. But in my view, it is his best work—rich enough for analysis across completely different discourses and filled with multiple dimensions. While watching, it creates an impression of understanding what is happening, yet leaves one completely bewildered as to where and at what level this understanding lies, and what it actually consists of. To dissect this film in detail from a psychoanalytic perspective, or any other, would require extensive text and images—I'll leave that for potential future posts about this film. Still, I will extract one moment from the narrative field of this film and share it here.
In the first third of the film, the character who is the focus of attention—the main protagonist—visits a museum several times. While viewing the paintings, he stops in front of one and gazes at it thoughtfully. The encounter between the protagonist and the painting's subject happens immediately. He recognizes the imagery and steps into a world where he encounters the same subject, but in a different form and on a different stage—as an event of everyday life. Here, the story unfolds originating from the object of art.
In the first third of the film, the character who is the focus of attention—the main protagonist—visits a museum several times. While viewing the paintings, he stops in front of one and gazes at it thoughtfully. The encounter between the protagonist and the painting's subject happens immediately. He recognizes the imagery and steps into a world where he encounters the same subject, but in a different form and on a different stage—as an event of everyday life. Here, the story unfolds originating from the object of art.
Next, the director shows how the main character observes the cityscape of one of the most beautiful cities—Barcelona—from a high balcony. And this landscape migrates onto the canvas, appearing as an image in a painting. In the next shot, the protagonist stands before this same landscape, but now in a museum. Here, the events unfold in the opposite direction—from the world into the museum.
These two diametrically opposed scenes reveal the dynamics of the protagonist's story unfolding: first, he follows the world; then, the world follows him. And yes, one could say that this is the same notorious story about the hero not being just some nobody, not a trembling creature, but one who has the right. This theme fits into the film's plot if viewed through the Hegelian discourse of master and slave.
The myth of Theseus is also traceable here—but what serves as Ariadne's thread in this film? Imagination. Not imagination as mere fantasy or escape from reality into unknown distances, but as a creative impulse born at the point of encounter between the hero and the world.
So what influences the hero? Does the world influence him, or does he influence it? Apparently, it is this dialectic that shapes the events along the hero's path toward his goal. Or perhaps—toward his limit?
These two diametrically opposed scenes reveal the dynamics of the protagonist's story unfolding: first, he follows the world; then, the world follows him. And yes, one could say that this is the same notorious story about the hero not being just some nobody, not a trembling creature, but one who has the right. This theme fits into the film's plot if viewed through the Hegelian discourse of master and slave.
The myth of Theseus is also traceable here—but what serves as Ariadne's thread in this film? Imagination. Not imagination as mere fantasy or escape from reality into unknown distances, but as a creative impulse born at the point of encounter between the hero and the world.
So what influences the hero? Does the world influence him, or does he influence it? Apparently, it is this dialectic that shapes the events along the hero's path toward his goal. Or perhaps—toward his limit?
June 19th, 2024
Interpretation of Camille Claudel's Sculpture "The Wave"
The Boris Eifman Dance Academy Theater features the modern ballet production "Rodin, Her Eternal Idol" in its repertoire. Through the plasticity of the body in expressive dance, it tells the love story of the great sculptor Rodin and his talented student, Camille Claudel.
The bond between these two geniuses at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries became a source of inspiration for Rodin and fatal for Camille. Nevertheless, she left behind a modest creative legacy recognized as high art, and the profound influence she exerted on her lover has been well-documented. For a long time after Camille's death, her name remained in oblivion, but in 2017, the Camille Claudel Museum opened in the town of Nogent-sur-Seine. It houses the largest public collection of her works in the world. It was also the first museum in France dedicated to a female artist.
One of her most iconic and finest works is the sculpture "The Wave" (La Vague), made of onyx and bronze, dated 1897. The work is unusual in that the element of water is depicted in stone as the main compositional element. As a rule, sculpture at that time depicted people: their best angles, movements, features—everything that could be conveyed through the plasticity of the human body. In this sculpture, however, a wave soaring high upward seems captured in the second before crashing down upon three small female figures located directly beneath it. The wave is large and powerful compared to the girls, impossible to resist, which is shown in their movement: the girls crouch upon seeing it above them, expecting the water to crash down upon them. Looking at the three female figurines holding hands, one involuntarily recalls the Three Graces from Greek mythology—a symbol of grace, charm, and beauty that grants creative inspiration to artists. Like those depicted in Botticelli's painting "Spring". But with a significant difference.
Camille's Graces are not at peace. They are frightened and awaiting the inevitable, and most importantly, two of them are not holding hands. The complete ring formed by the girls' joined hands, a symbol of unity and harmony, is broken in this sculpture. Into this resulting space, into this rupture, chaos rushes with great force, represented as the element of water. The two elements of the sculpture—the unclasping of hands and the large wave—seem connected to one another. As if this represented the loss of the ability to interact with chaos through art, creative inspiration, and the search for harmony in form and meaning.
Indeed, in Camille's biography, this sculpture was created during a difficult period of her life and became a kind of premonition of impending disaster. Some time later, Camille Claudel required psychiatric help and was placed in a hospital, where she remained for a very long time. After her mind became clouded, she did not create a single work.
The bond between these two geniuses at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries became a source of inspiration for Rodin and fatal for Camille. Nevertheless, she left behind a modest creative legacy recognized as high art, and the profound influence she exerted on her lover has been well-documented. For a long time after Camille's death, her name remained in oblivion, but in 2017, the Camille Claudel Museum opened in the town of Nogent-sur-Seine. It houses the largest public collection of her works in the world. It was also the first museum in France dedicated to a female artist.
One of her most iconic and finest works is the sculpture "The Wave" (La Vague), made of onyx and bronze, dated 1897. The work is unusual in that the element of water is depicted in stone as the main compositional element. As a rule, sculpture at that time depicted people: their best angles, movements, features—everything that could be conveyed through the plasticity of the human body. In this sculpture, however, a wave soaring high upward seems captured in the second before crashing down upon three small female figures located directly beneath it. The wave is large and powerful compared to the girls, impossible to resist, which is shown in their movement: the girls crouch upon seeing it above them, expecting the water to crash down upon them. Looking at the three female figurines holding hands, one involuntarily recalls the Three Graces from Greek mythology—a symbol of grace, charm, and beauty that grants creative inspiration to artists. Like those depicted in Botticelli's painting "Spring". But with a significant difference.
Camille's Graces are not at peace. They are frightened and awaiting the inevitable, and most importantly, two of them are not holding hands. The complete ring formed by the girls' joined hands, a symbol of unity and harmony, is broken in this sculpture. Into this resulting space, into this rupture, chaos rushes with great force, represented as the element of water. The two elements of the sculpture—the unclasping of hands and the large wave—seem connected to one another. As if this represented the loss of the ability to interact with chaos through art, creative inspiration, and the search for harmony in form and meaning.
Indeed, in Camille's biography, this sculpture was created during a difficult period of her life and became a kind of premonition of impending disaster. Some time later, Camille Claudel required psychiatric help and was placed in a hospital, where she remained for a very long time. After her mind became clouded, she did not create a single work.
May 21st, 2024
Philip Roth's When She Was Good
A novel about a girl living in provincial America. In fact, the plot itself is nothing particularly remarkable. The problems the characters encounter are so familiar that the reader is bound to form their own opinion on what to do, how to react, and how to act.
And this is a slippery path along which the author seemingly sends their reader, expecting their "triumphant" return: exhausted, desperate to find a way out, covered in dust and dirt, having partially forgotten what they set out to seek, feeling only one joy—that they managed to return, and that it is just a book.
Alongside a spectrum of unpleasant emotions rooted in hopelessness, an incredible anger arises towards the protagonist—Lucy. And not because the reader never saw her escape the viscous swamp of "injustice" into which she gradually sank due to that very injustice, but because the reader themselves got sucked into it during hopeless attempts to mentally dissuade the heroine from "doing good" to those around her, hoping she would figure it out on her own.
This is a story about a girl who considers herself a good person. But the protagonist went further; she didn't just think it, she began to act on it. The novel is a tragedy.
And this is a slippery path along which the author seemingly sends their reader, expecting their "triumphant" return: exhausted, desperate to find a way out, covered in dust and dirt, having partially forgotten what they set out to seek, feeling only one joy—that they managed to return, and that it is just a book.
Alongside a spectrum of unpleasant emotions rooted in hopelessness, an incredible anger arises towards the protagonist—Lucy. And not because the reader never saw her escape the viscous swamp of "injustice" into which she gradually sank due to that very injustice, but because the reader themselves got sucked into it during hopeless attempts to mentally dissuade the heroine from "doing good" to those around her, hoping she would figure it out on her own.
This is a story about a girl who considers herself a good person. But the protagonist went further; she didn't just think it, she began to act on it. The novel is a tragedy.
May 21st, 2024
Bosch's Owls
In the works of Hieronymus Bosch, whether paintings or graphics, there is one curious detail that places the viewer of his paintings in a rather uncomfortable, bewildered position. Bosch's viewer is a scrutinizer, for this art consists predominantly of small details and complex elements that set the visual and semantic rhythm of the imagery. As one closely examines sometimes quite creepy narrative lines, the impression arises that you are being scrutinized in return.
The presence of an observer is palpable in the recognition of pleasure derived from the sight—pleasure from which one ought, in theory, to be horrified. But not so. The viewer enjoys what they see but attempts to conceal it. Someone nearby notices the surge of endorphins from immersing oneself in the theme of lust and the Fall.
Having become fully engrossed in the seductive world into which Hieronymus offered a glimpse, and wandering almost in a trance through the Garden of Delights, the viewer suddenly encounters a character staring directly at them. It is here, at the point where two gazes unexpectedly meet, that the artist catches his viewer "by the tail." He caught them in the act of enjoyment. The scene of capturing the one who scrutinizes human vices with pleasure while trying to conceal it is constructed through an external observer—the owl. It is from her that the viewer seeks to hide.
The discovery of the concealed produces pleasure, yet the concealment of the discovered also serves to generate it. The owl is subtly present in all of Bosch's works. Its gaze is directed either at the viewer or at the unfolding narrative depicted by the artist. In either case, the owl looks at you—either as someone outside the painting or as someone already participating in the depicted events. It is all one scene.
Why the owl specifically and what it symbolizes is another, equally interesting topic, revealing new facets of Hieronymus's art.
The presence of an observer is palpable in the recognition of pleasure derived from the sight—pleasure from which one ought, in theory, to be horrified. But not so. The viewer enjoys what they see but attempts to conceal it. Someone nearby notices the surge of endorphins from immersing oneself in the theme of lust and the Fall.
Having become fully engrossed in the seductive world into which Hieronymus offered a glimpse, and wandering almost in a trance through the Garden of Delights, the viewer suddenly encounters a character staring directly at them. It is here, at the point where two gazes unexpectedly meet, that the artist catches his viewer "by the tail." He caught them in the act of enjoyment. The scene of capturing the one who scrutinizes human vices with pleasure while trying to conceal it is constructed through an external observer—the owl. It is from her that the viewer seeks to hide.
The discovery of the concealed produces pleasure, yet the concealment of the discovered also serves to generate it. The owl is subtly present in all of Bosch's works. Its gaze is directed either at the viewer or at the unfolding narrative depicted by the artist. In either case, the owl looks at you—either as someone outside the painting or as someone already participating in the depicted events. It is all one scene.
Why the owl specifically and what it symbolizes is another, equally interesting topic, revealing new facets of Hieronymus's art.
April 12, 2024
Salvador Dali's sculpture "Motherhood"
Salvador Dalí's sculpture "Maternity" is housed in the private collection of Pavel Bashmakov in St. Petersburg and can be viewed at the Bashmakov Gallery.
The sculpture depicts a female torso, at first glance wrapped in fabric fastened on the left shoulder with a gold clasp. This references the attire of Roman soldiers, who wore the paludamentum—a cloak whose color indicated their rank. Purple signified belonging to the highest commanders. Notably, Dalí's sculpture also possesses this hue. Here, an interplay between male and female statuses in social life is suggested—equating motherhood with military achievements and leveling them in significance.
Compositionally, the central element of the sculpture is a golden "constellation" of the female breast. It seems to emerge from within the female body, showing the conjunction of two dimensions—the breast on the surface and egg cells within it. At the same time, the breasts vary in size—smaller at the edges, larger in the center—which sets the dynamics of their appearance, growth, and maturation. In the image of motherhood, the timeline of female biological fertility seems compressed—from the emergence of egg cells to the breast nursing an infant. A female form of multiplicity is depicted, suggesting the continuity of emergence and renewal. The central part is crafted from gold, indicating its value. A parallel can be drawn between the gold and a "reward." It is entirely a "breast within breasts," or perhaps a breast covered in medals.
The theme of fertility is also evident in the image of a bunch of grapes. The entire celebration of the emergence and nurturing of new life is crowned by a golden detail in the form of melting clocks—Dalí's favorite motif. The clocks, like a spermatozoon, are ready to penetrate the realm of the ripened fig tree, and all that remains is to wait, as indicated by the clock hands. They also remind us of the temporality of the female biological essence, contrasted against which is another constant value, symbolized by the image of the clock face—memory.
The sculpture depicts a female torso, at first glance wrapped in fabric fastened on the left shoulder with a gold clasp. This references the attire of Roman soldiers, who wore the paludamentum—a cloak whose color indicated their rank. Purple signified belonging to the highest commanders. Notably, Dalí's sculpture also possesses this hue. Here, an interplay between male and female statuses in social life is suggested—equating motherhood with military achievements and leveling them in significance.
Compositionally, the central element of the sculpture is a golden "constellation" of the female breast. It seems to emerge from within the female body, showing the conjunction of two dimensions—the breast on the surface and egg cells within it. At the same time, the breasts vary in size—smaller at the edges, larger in the center—which sets the dynamics of their appearance, growth, and maturation. In the image of motherhood, the timeline of female biological fertility seems compressed—from the emergence of egg cells to the breast nursing an infant. A female form of multiplicity is depicted, suggesting the continuity of emergence and renewal. The central part is crafted from gold, indicating its value. A parallel can be drawn between the gold and a "reward." It is entirely a "breast within breasts," or perhaps a breast covered in medals.
The theme of fertility is also evident in the image of a bunch of grapes. The entire celebration of the emergence and nurturing of new life is crowned by a golden detail in the form of melting clocks—Dalí's favorite motif. The clocks, like a spermatozoon, are ready to penetrate the realm of the ripened fig tree, and all that remains is to wait, as indicated by the clock hands. They also remind us of the temporality of the female biological essence, contrasted against which is another constant value, symbolized by the image of the clock face—memory.