Katrakis’ earliest years were marred by the kinds of tragedy that most never have to endure, experiences that would ultimately permeate her art. When the Chernobyl disaster struck, Katrakis — who was 6 at the time — was just 15 miles away and was forced to evacuate. Soon after, she developed throat cancer and spent two years recovering from subsequent surgery. A short time later, Katrakis lived through the Georgia-Abkhazia conflict. Since age 12, she has lived alone. For the artist, surviving the Chernobyl disaster was immensely transformative — she has sought to find the silver lining within the tragedy. “It made me stronger,” says Katrakis. “It gave me a magic journey which, back then when I was only 6 years old, seemed to be a fairy tale moment. I never felt like a victim. On the contrary, I always did feel like a survivor and did feel very lucky to survive and be alive, while so many people did die in front of my eyes in the same hospital where I had the surgery.” She says the impact of Chernobyl has stayed with her throughout her life. “Radiation will linger in my body forever,” Katrakis says. She tragically lost her first child due to a condition known as Chernobyl Heart. “I coped with the realization of the child's loss and my personal past the best way I could and probably the only way I knew how — via art.”
it Out,” where Katrakis depicts her body into her beloved Greek island of Milos, using drawing, mixed media, print and monochromatic painting in an effort to “explore the relationship between the physical and the encrypted reality.” Then there is her art that deals with Chernobyl. Her work, “The Zone,” is a striking, powerful collection that consists of paintings that illuminate the tragedy of the disaster. In one painting, a figure wearing a gas mask pulls dolls out of a body of water. The images are haunting, replete with emotion. In the series, Katrakis seeks to combine local folklore with her own grief. “The very realization of just how close the tragedy really is and how omnipresent it is in my life even today, and in my body where it dwells as a hidden sleeping beast, made me wake up to the call,” she says of the effect of Chernobyl on her artwork. “These paintings were created on one breath. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t cry. I only painted day and night without leaving the studio, without seeing anyone or anything. I fully devoted myself to it. It was my cry, my mourning, my lament, my pain, my love, my dream — my everything.” The first time the paintings were shown to the public was at the Memphis Botanic Garden gallery. According to Katrakis, the response was incredibly cathartic, as those who were thousands of miles away
Expressing herself One glance at Katrakis’ work, and it’s obvious that she’s not your typical artist. Her work is evocative, capable of drumming up an entire spectrum of complex emotions. A number of different topics are explored through her work. For instance, consider her work, “Mapping
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U of M alum Christina Katrakis overcame throat cancer that was caused by radiation from the Chernobyl nuclear accident in 1986 to set up a foundation that aids orphans and children with cancer in her native Ukraine. She uses art to help sick and needy children cope with their physical and emotional problems. Her artwork is owned by two U.S. presidents and numerous celebrities.
THE UNIVERSITY OF MEMPHIS