When did you acquire the style you are known for today around the world?
Probably in the mid-nineties, more precisely, in 1994. I went to Cyprus under the cover of an internship. The formal occasion was a personal exhibition and an order for the president of the island̓s portrait. Of course, I painted while on the island, mostly sketches, but rarely and not much. These six months of vacation resulted in a powerful creative impulse. Suddenly I began to conceive pictures about Russian life. A series of works about 19th century Russia emerged. Of course, nothing happened out of the blue, it was all ripening deep inside of me. Obviously, the base was laid in my childhood. After all, I was born and raised in Yakhroma, near Moscow.
Are you still attracted to your hometown?
Yakhroma is an amazingly beautiful place, it sits on high hills from which Bruegel-like views can be seen, and the ships, and the railroad trains that outran them were visible from the window of my house. The main enterprise of the town was a weaving factory with 19th century architect, female workers wore shawls in the streets, you could see the factory̓s half-ruined church, barracks in which people lived, a hospital built by the factory owner. It was full of the past, breathing the olden days. Later, when I was a student, thanks to the trips to Suzdal, Rostov the Great, Yaroslavl,
I became more fascinated with the lovely landscapes of the Upper Volga cities, with their high riverbanks and vast expanses. All that was Russian resonated so much within me 20 years ago, on Greek Cyprus, that I started producing artworks: Toy Sellers, Seller of Lemonade, Seeds. And Yakhroma, yes, is always in first place.
And what happened to Seeds?
Some time passed and a famous Dutch gallery from The Hague, De Twee Pauwen, approached me with a proposal to arrange a personal exhibition. It was a great success, almost all the works were sold, and it strengthened my confidence as an artist. The consciousness of the creator needs confirmation, and the only reward of the artist, as Renoir used to say, can be the purchase of his works. By the way, I still painted that portrait of the President of Cyprus.
Did you always know that you would be an artist?
Was there a choice, did you have doubts? I doubted that I was a good artist for about 40 years, even when I was a member of the Union of Artists, had many exhibitions behind me — I felt ordinary. Perhaps the reason was that for a long time no one paid attention to me, and I never knew how to promote myself. I just worked a lot, honestly. Then, perhaps, a critical mass accumulated somewhere in the noosphere, and these days people always turn to me, say kind words, buy my works. As for the choice, of course I had it. I was born into a family of doctors and was very aware of the importance of that profession. My choice in favour of art was made, most likely, at a time when instead of toy shops I started going to art salons, and buying good pencils or paints made me happy.
You tried to enrol in Stroganov School several times, but graduated from the Surikov Art Institute.
What does a young artist feel when he receives a long-awaited graduation certificate?
After graduating from the institute I had no idea what I would do: I had neither a style of my own, nor confidence in my vocation. I started visiting the Andronikov Monastery, the temple of Andrei Rublev, the Monastery of Our Saviour, and studied the Russian icon. The technique I studied in the workshops of the monastery revealed the secrets of painting to me, and all of a sudden all the artists of the past became dear to me. After learning the craft of the icon painter I suddenly saw that I was using the same pigments and paints as the old masters hundreds of years before me.
That I shared the same value system, that I understood colours like my beloved Piero della Francesca: one paint is for the sky, the other is for the earth. Then I began to apply that technique not only to icons, but to paintings as well.
Knowing the natural properties of paints, you can create a complex combination of dense and transparent layers, as the old masters did.
It is believed that the language of art is universal, so how universal is iconography?
In the 12th century the art language of the Christian world was universal, identical from Barcelona to Moscow. However, we must not forget that the art of the icon was fully revealed to the world at the beginning of the 20th century, thanks to the discoveries of restorers and lovers of Russian history. Similarly, at the beginning of the 20th century, thanks to the genius of Sergei Diaghilev, the Russian portrait of the 18th century was rediscovered. Diaghilev̓s first experience was not the organization of Ballets Russes, but the Tavrichesky exhibition of the Russian portrait in 1905. He personally collected over 2300 works of art, from parsunas to the paintings of late 19th century, from the homesteads and country houses of noble families. The exhibition shocked Russia, before Diaghilev there were neither Borovikovsky nor Levitsky in museums.
Your paintings inspire fashion designers. They say Alena Akhmadullina borrowed your artworks to paint the walls of The Repa restaurant in St. Petersburg...
The costume in my paintings is of great importance. I don̓t copy a Russian or a European dress, but try to convey an image, a feeling derived from it. The exact copy would look unnatural, like a postcard. But when the plasticity of clothing, its cut, and ornament submit to the idea of the painting itself, magic happens. Last year, famous Spanish brand Delpozo made a collection based on my paintings; inspired by my work, Vivetta Ponti, the creator of the new Italian brand Vivetta, invited me to Milan fashion week to see her fashion show in for the SS 2018 collection, which was based on my paintings. Foreigners, unlike us, always ask for permission to use the artworks, and list the source everywhere. Unfortunately, I learned only by chance that a part of my painting was used by Alena Akhmadullina to decorate the walls of a St. Petersburg restaurant. The designers familiar with the project contacted me. Probably they supposed that I should be happy, since they used my works... My wife deals with copyrights, and once she wrote to a company that used my pictures for labels. They were terribly surprised that I was still alive, people thought that it was the work of some late classic.
What is your attitude to the world of fashion and the area that borders it, contemporary art?
My attitude has changed after I visited a costume exhiand then you decide why it̓s beautiful. And this is incredible happiness, when something the artist is tormented by gets a response from the public. When I can find the exact plastic element through which the picture stands out, and the viewer notices it, it is an incomparable sensation.
Perhaps sometimes you don't find it?
Yes, it happens that the picture is finished, and there is no zest, so if you don̓t come up with a detail, then the general idea will be discredited. So some nearly finished works are put aside for several years, they are waiting for their time.
Do you travel a lot, do you have any favourite museums?
I like the early Middle Ages very much — there̓s a lot on show at the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya in Barcelona. There are stunning frescoes, which were preserved in part in different temples of the 11th to 12th centuries, they were neatly removed, restored and assembled in one place. Immediately you understand where Picasso came from with his huge number of eyes. The stunning Bavarian National Museum in Munich. In order to really feel the Russian icon, Rostov the Great is worth a trip. Nowhere else can you find such a high level of provincial art, without the artificial gloss of the icon-painters of the Armory Chamber. There were powerful artisans who painted simplicity and beauty, just like the world famous European masters did. I love the Netherlands, this country is an inspiration: Delft, the dunes
which Van Gogh walked... In my beloved The Hague there is the Mauritshuis Royal Gallery that has Vermeer's painting, Girl with a Pearl Earring; I love the Escher Museum and the wonderful Japanese garden in Clingendael park.
And how do you switch on inspiration?
Not a day without painting a line, no matter how down you are. Sometimes you have to force yourself to do it, but once you start you feel a great sense of relief. After all, it̓s known that painting has a curative effect, art therapy is based on that. But for the artist who spends a lot of time in his study alone, constantly leading an internal dialogue, it is very important to have a stable nervous system in life. In fact it's vital. bition of Yves Saint Laurent in Petit Palais in Paris, it was a shock to me. I was amazed at how much good art can influence a person. The sincere submergence of the creator in what he does is transmitted to the viewer, and the litmus test here is the youth. Youth is open to real art. And I, as far as I can, never try to leave the viewer indifferent. Contemporary art today puts the idea first, and not an aesthetic or form, as it was among the artists of the past. I like this formula: the idea is only as good as it is implemented. And in the 21st century no one has abolished the magic of mastery. All the landmark names in the world of contemporary art, no matter how diverse and conceptual their art s, work at a very high professional level. Look at what Jeff Koons is doing today, Damien Hirst, Jan Fabre. But which
spot will be occupied by each of them in the history of art, only time will tell. I know one thing: all the great artists, long-lived in art, were wise people who perfectly understood their significance.
Are you talking about indiscretion and art marketing?
Both yes and no. Imagine, the famous Japanese artist and engraver of the 18th to 19th century, Katsushika Hokusai, he author of the world-famous engraving The Great Wave in Kanagawa, used more than three dozen aliases: he changed his names so as not to become proud. A friend of mine, orientalist Yevgeny Shteiner, told me that in 17th-19th century Japan paintings were called "pictures for slow viewing". So I try to paint so that my art could be examined. Therefore, the creative process for me is not a quick thing: first I make a lot of sketches, which I then analyse, choosing the best. I suspect that there is no other way. You know, in my youth I once opened a book of Sergei Yesenin̓s poems that he wrote in my age. I admit that I felt insignificant his thoughts were so much deeper, the questions and feelings that worried him more serious. Then I realised what an artist should talk about. The main criterion of true creativity is the ability to sensually comprehend the world, and the skill to convey these emotions to the viewer. Of course, artists have always tried to explain their admiration for the surrounding world scientifically, tried to understand the laws of beauty, but before they comprehended it they created that beauty themselves. First you draw, exhiand then you decide why it̓s beautiful. And this is incredible happiness, when something the artist is tormented by gets a response from the public. When I can find the exact plastic element through which the picture stands out, and the viewer notices it, it is an incomparable sensation.
Perhaps sometimes you don't find it?
Yes, it happens that the picture is finished, and there is no zest, so if you don̓t come up with a detail, then the general idea will be discredited. So some nearly finished works are put aside for several years, they are waiting for their time.
Do you travel a lot, do you have any favourite museums?
I like the early Middle Ages very much — there̓s a lot on show at the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya in Barcelona. There are stunning frescoes, which were preserved in part in different temples of the 11th to 12th centuries, they
were neatly removed, restored and assembled in one place. Immediately you understand where Picasso came from with his huge number of eyes. The stunning Bavarian National Museum in Munich. In order to really feel the Russian icon, Rostov the Great is worth a trip. Nowhere else can you find such a high level of provincial art, without the artificial gloss of the icon-painters of the Armory Chamber. There were powerful artisans who painted simplicity and beauty, just like the world famous European masters did. I love the Netherlands, this country is an inspiration: Delft, the dunes which Van Gogh walked... In my beloved The Hague there is the Mauritshuis Royal Gallery that has Vermeer's painting, Girl with a Pearl Earring; I love the Escher Museum and the wonderful Japanese garden in Clingendael park.
And how do you switch on inspiration?
Not a day without painting a line, no matter how down you are. Sometimes you have to force yourself to do it, but once you start you feel a great sense of relief. After all, it̓s known that painting has a curative effect, art therapy is based on that. But for the artist who spends a lot of time in his study alone, constantly leading an internal dialogue, it is very important to have a stable nervous system in life. In fact it's vital.
Aeroflot Premium, 2018, Moscow