ARTEM VOLOKITIN
Born in 1981 in Eskhar, Kharkiv Region. Graduated from Kharkiv State Academy of Design and Arts. Represents the New Humanism trend in Ukrainian art. Lives and works in Kharkiv. Selected exhibitions: Transformation. Evidence (2016, Kunst- und Filmbiennale Worpswede, Germany); Kylym. Contemporary Ukrainian Artists (2016, Zenko Foundation, Tatariv, Ivano-Frankivsk Region, Ukraine); Museum Collection. Contemporary Ukrainian Art 1985– 2015. From Private Collections (2015, Mystetskyi Arsenal, Kyiv); Hope! (2015, 56th Venice Biennale, Italy); UK/raine (2015, Saatchi Gallery, London); New Perspectives (2015, Voloshin Gallery, Ukrainian Institute of America, New York); Premonition: Ukrainian Art Now (2014, Saatchi Gallery, London); Contemporary Ukrainian Artists (2013, Saatchi Gallery, London); The Future Generation Art Prize@Venice 2013 (2013, 55th Venice Biennale, Italy); Collection Platform 3: Forever Now (2012– 2013, PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv); Touch (2009, Ya Gallery Art Center, Kyiv); Hero (2009, Ya Gallery Art Center, Kyiv); Colorfest (2008, Minsk); Teenagers (2007, Mystetskyi Arsenal, Kyiv); Within Format (2006, Non-Stop Media Festival, Municipal Gallery, Kharkiv, Ukraine).
CONTINUATION WITHOUT END, OF A KIND I always have a clear idea of the end result, I think that’s in my personality. I want to receive something close to my initial idea. Some go with the flow. I never wanted that, I always knew what I wanted, much like a director designing a shot. I like to know where I’ll wind up. I think Botany reflects my current interests. It also marks a moment of awakening and joy. In spring, you can effortlessly wake up before dawn, something which never happens either in winter or in summer. I think the entire world wakes up as I do, vibrant and alive. There’s startling beauty in that. And still, I love nature touched by human presence. It’s like an act of co-creation. It also marks control, no matter how minor. I also like the feeling that spring has arrived and everything is in motion without
Interference 1, 2, oil on canvas, 120 x 140 cm, 2007–2008
any effort on your part. It’s a staggering feeling. This is what inspired the project Botany. You could say it’s banal, but how could spring be banal? Could anyone ever say, “Wow, the sky is ugly today”? I never liked painting landscapes. I did a single sketch, and then didn’t paint a single landscape in what, 10 years? 20? I think I only recently found a form that could accommodate landscapes. I like the look of fields. I liked fields even better than woods or seas. When I stand on the sea shore, I think I’m backed into a corner, that’s it, I’ve come to the end of my road. Whereas when I see a field, I feel like
360
I’m facing infinity. Woods too, I think woods are like walls, departing from the trodden path takes effort. Fields, meanwhile, open up to you. This is what inspired my new works, which some had already compared to “paintings of color fields.” Landscapes came to me. If you shun something, I think, it will eventually come to you, one way or the other. Speaking of Ukrainian art, I think it’s in motion. Meticulous scholarly analysis might prove that we have everything, and it is interesting, valuable, and, most importantly, in my opinion, authentic. Some might say that we are provincial and backward. But this is a plus. Granted, some had already learned to create absolutely bland art almost devoid of emotions. I like when things are in violent flux. Who cares if they are sometimes too explicit? An artist opens up to a degree you don’t necessarily open up even with closest friends. I see vulnerability and singular beauty in that. I’d love to preserve that, I love that. I always crave beauty. Obviously, beauty is a subjective notion. When confronted with beauty, you stopthinking, you blank out, as if there never were any reflections or explanations. Art has to mesmerize. This is why I have high respect for abstract artists, I think it’s really cool. I think I cannot pull off stuff like that, but when I see those works, I love them. Sure, you can see abstract art in the surface of a cracked wall. But when an artist does that, with tenderness and effort, and then brings it to you and shows his or her work, it’s incredible, the spontaneity of it. When I was very little, when I was 4 or 5, I suddenly saw a beautiful tree stump. I ran off to summon other people, so that they, too, would witness its beauty. I don’t remember what happened next. My uncle is an artist, he graduated from the Kharkiv Institute of Arts and Design, and then he was drafted into the army. One day in late autumn, when they were burning fallen leaves, I saw rays of sunlight pierce the smoke. I wondered: how could he miss that? I swept up a mound of leaves, took it to the garage and kept it for a long time… I tried to collect everything connected to beauty and art for the uncle, to show it to him, so that he wouldn’t miss a thing. But by the time he was back, I already forgot all about it. My dad must have thrown out that bag of leaves. In conversation with Inga Esterkina