Selection of artwork available in galleries and private collections
Psycho 1. Berlin
2021. 80x110cm. Oil on canvas. Finding my cloud of paradise or slipping into the abyss of the underground is a 50/50 proposition in this city. I was walking a fine line between developing myself as a person and the urgency to let Schweinehund off the leash. My Martins wandered through the city, descending into the subway. They sidestepped the junk of unnecessary things under painted graffiti, the shabby walls with a green mold of a city with perpetual construction in the swamp, reminded once again by endless pink pipes. Pipes stood alongside people on the brink of social bottom and the ones unfortunate to deal with mental disabilities. My hair absorbed the omnipresent smell of grass coupled with the obnoxious aromas of baked goods and annoying currywurst. The first thing I wanted to do when I got home was to rinse it all off and dive into the comfort of a terrycloth towel. I thumbed through many books to heal my mind during the chilling, hopeless winter. Like the characters in Franz Kafka's The Transfiguration, I have been constricted by circumstances, commitments, and far-fetched aspirations. All I have to do is shovel out all this junk and let the cocoon open, and roses bloom, nourishing them with dreams and turning intentions into actions. No powder will ease the pain of irrepressible aspirations like the witch's potion did not help Faust. I am switching on the lamp in the room of my mind. The bugs cannot be eradicated, but they spread out to corners under a bright light. And there is the risk of being wounded by the thorns of the rose as a symbol of knowledge. While awake, the mind holds sway over the inner demon.
2020. 100х130см. Oil on canvas started and DigitalArt finished. Diptych part 2. "They spoke little, it was too dark to speak ... But no one could take me away from me" V.Nabokov
2020. 100х110см. Oil on canvas. Diptych part 1. To get everything here and now is a seductive desire that haunts us from day to day. It overtakes us with such force that we forget - a real pleasure in the path lived, and not its completion.
2020. 100х130см. Oil on canvas. Diptych part 1. "He continued to be silent, and she was silent too, and began to rummage in her bag, painfully looking for a topic for conversation ..." (c) Vladimir Nabokov.
The face of a Hero
2020. 90х130cм. Oil on canvas. Doubtful heroes with dubious lifestyles and ideas. Imitating them is like fighting a dragon - the one who defeats him becomes him himself. 🔴 In private collection.
2020. 90х150см. Oil on canvas, marker. The moment when the whole world froze. In fear, in anticipation, in reflection and nostalgia.
2020. 100х130см. Oil on canvas, acrylic. Chaos sometimes lurks real magic. 🔴 In private collection.
Manifesto of Freedom
2020. 110х140см. Oil on canvas, acrylic, pencil. The hand and the bird are symbols of the freedom of the physical, spiritual and mind body. But what happens if you catch the bird in the palm of your hand? The clash of freedoms. And who is free then? A person lives his day looking at the world through the prism of personal perception. And every day he runs the risk of becoming the "analogous goat of yesterday" under the wheels of the "machine of the future", which is rapidly moving forward. He is free to choose the path of development.
2019. 80х120см. Oil on canvas. Optimism baffled him. He realized too late what was really going on compared to what he had hoped for.
The cats are all right
2019. 100x100cm. Oil on canvas. The Сats are all right. 🔴 In private collection.
2019. 70х80см. Oil on canvas. Whatever beauty is perceived, there is always disharmony and caustic acid behind it. Man touches natural beauty, flirting with man-made, thereby disfiguring himself and the world around him. 🔴 In private collection.
Tears always turn to laughter
2019. 50х70см. Oil on canvas. The delicate becomes rough over time.
2019. 40х60см. Oil on canvas. 🔴 In private collection.
Clap of the palm
2019. 60х70см. Oil on canvas.
2018. 70х90см. Oil on canvas. When everything seems lost, the rider rides over the hill and saves the day.
2018. 60х80см. Oil on canvas. Destruction is an act of creation. Clearing the old, we give way to the new.
2018. 60х60см. Oil on canvas. The need for real sheep disappeared when they appeared. More wool, no maintenance, no life.
2018. 84х59см. Oil on canvas. Value is not something that exists objectively.