Paintings Not About People
No. 14, March 2004
Oleksandr Kostetsky is one of the most powerful representatives of the painting direction that in the 1980s critic Natalia Smirnova characterized as mystical romanticism. With the belated appearance of the term “postmodernism” in domestic art studies, the definition of mystical romanticism was somewhat forgotten, but it precisely characterizes the direction – both aesthetic and ideological – in the unofficial art of the Soviet space of the 1980s, whose resonance for its time, as well as its expressiveness that has not faded over the years, allow it to be called a phenomenon. It is fully appropriate to label the surreal plots of Kostetsky’s paintings and his painting style as mystical romanticism.
Oleksandr Kostetsky’s art usually combines mutually exclusive qualities – literariness and high pictoriality. His paintings are part of one of the most famous world collections of unofficial Soviet art – the collection of American Norton Dodge. Dodge collects art from the pre-Perestroika period, believing that from the second half of the 1980s, artists from the former Soviet republics focused only on profits from sales, not on new creative discoveries. Thus, belonging to his collection is also an expertise of creative sincerity.
Kostetsky reluctantly makes contact with the outside world – he does not seek attention or evaluations and prefers to ignore even the openings of his own exhibitions. The interview for “PolitikHALL” was obtained only after negotiations lasting more than a month.
The sculptures you carved from wood in your youth stylistically resemble your recent painting. Have you not changed your artistic strategy all these years?
– It turns out, yes. Probably, I am too conservative.
Did you have no need to do so? Was everything you created in demand?
– In general, it cannot be said that nothing changed from beginning to end. On the one hand, my paintings from the 1970s, for example, are painted with darker colors than those of the last fifteen years. This change happened consciously. On the other hand, I have been working for several decades, and similarities with some early paintings may appear. Subconsciously, people return to something old.
Who do you see as the consumer of your art?
– Honestly, when I started painting, I did not focus on anyone or any sales. I do not work on commission – in my life, I have painted two or three paintings on commission. And my works belong to very different people.
Although, I probably focus on the end consumer, hoping that someone might like what I paint. I do not proceed from any calculation but do something intuitively. I do not calculate how much air or paint a particular painting needs.
What is the origin of your distinctive painting style?
– It is difficult for me to name exact sources. Somehow, I developed my own presentation – this is visible even in the very first works.
Your paintings, depicting strange worlds, have features of hyperrealism, photographic accuracy. Is this a conscious approach?
– Of course. If my paintings were more “blurred” in terms of detail, they would simply lose their meaning. In the area where I work, impressionistic inaccuracies are inapplicable. Otherwise, it would be something completely incomprehensible.
Is it correct to assume that certain artistic movements influenced the formation of your style? In particular, surrealism, whose echoes are clearly felt in your painting.
– Actually, I was poorly acquainted with surrealism and only got to know it after starting my artistic career. I first saw Salvador Dali’s paintings in black-and-white, hand-printed photographs at the age of 18. In surrealist art, as in my painting, there is a moment of realistic depiction – this concerns similarity. But the main thing in surrealism is its spirit, its struggle, its revolutionary nature. I, on the contrary, am quite calm in my paintings.
How did the environment in which you grew up influence you?
– My father and mother were artists. I started drawing roughly before I was one year old. This is one of my first memories – my mother standing over a stroller, talking to someone. And I, having seized a pencil, scribble on some of her documents.
In literary terms, my older brother influenced me – his library was huge. Everything that could be collected then – about Masons, philosophical works, yoga, spiritism. There were only about ten such collections of books in the entire Soviet Union – in terms of occult and philosophical literature. Definitely, this literature influenced me.
You became a member of the National Union of Artists quite recently, which is surprising considering your many years of creative career. Why did you not try to join this organization earlier?
– In the 1980s, it would have been impossible for me to enter the Union; in the 1990s, it would have been difficult. Over time, the situation became calmer – now it has become somewhat easier, so I joined. Besides, I am very lazy. When joining, you have to submit some documents and solve many administrative issues.
Vasyl Zakharovych Boroday played a big role in my life, God bless him. The first time – when I was not accepted into the art institute as the son of artists (they fought against succession then). He went and said that I was a complete orphan, and I was accepted. Now he gave me a recommendation to the Union and defended my candidacy.
What is the benefit of membership in the Union?
– There is some benefit because it is socialization. From any administrator’s point of view, I was a person who never had a work record book, so it seemed I never worked. Now I can use the formula: artist, member of the Union of Artists, in creative work. There is also a benefit in that it might be easier for me to organize exhibitions. But I am unlikely to use this. In general, the question of benefit does not always make sense.
How was your life in the USA?
– I lived there from 1988 to 1992 on sales of my paintings. I lived exactly as an artist, although I was never really involved in the market situation. The art market is a group of people promoting a particular artist. There must be advertising. In America, no one “promoted” me. I handled everything myself, including the presentation of works. At the same time, the press and television paid much more attention to me there than here.
Can you compare the American art market with the one existing in Ukraine? How do they differ?
– Fundamentally, in terms of the scheme, they no longer differ. They differ in volume. Organizing an exhibition in America requires ten times more effort than in Ukraine. But I had ten times more exhibitions there than here. And the return from exhibitions there is, of course, incomparable with here.
Did America make any corrections to your art?
– Almost none. Except that larger paintings are required there. I had to work much more because the apartment was expensive. And you must be present at the opening of your exhibition there, which I do not like to do.
Why did you return to Ukraine if everything was going well overseas?
– They did not give me any legal status during four years of living there. And there is no such race here, which affects creativity, you must agree.
Do you have experience working in modern media?
– I never had the technical means to create such projects. And they must be in demand; someone must order them. Producing such large projects is very expensive compared to paintings. It is always implemented with the support of some funds. I did not show initiative myself, and no one ever offered me to do such things.
In recent years, the flagship of the current artistic situation in the capital has been a small community of artists who declared themselves followers of the transavant-garde in the late 1980s. In the 1990s, their projects were subsidized by grants from foreign funds and shown abroad. How did your career develop during those years?
– Not at all like that. I never tried to interact with funds. What I do – painting with paints on canvas – is not in the flow of so-called contemporary art and is unlikely to be supported by these funds. But the contemporary art you speak of is not in demand by our society. However, these processes are characteristic not only for our country but for the whole world. Contemporary art can only exist with the support of various funds, and the audience has little influence; they can only accept or reject the final result. Such art is the choice of curators. And it seems to me that life in this direction is gradually fading. Five to ten years ago, there were more exhibitions of Ukrainian contemporary art. I knew many of the contemporary artists in my youth. Before this community split, when it was a lively artistic mix.
Where do your exhibitions take place more often – in Ukraine or Europe?
– I have no permanent contacts with foreign galleries, but I hold exhibitions in Europe. And I simply do not exhibit my paintings in Kyiv’s “commercial” galleries. Of course, I engage in certain activities here, sometimes organizing exhibitions. But our galleries do not work in a way that paintings sell. Even the costs of organizing exhibitions are not recouped. All this is very behind the scenes. The fact that Ukrainian art fairs permanently failed in the 1990s is entirely the fault of their organizers. They only collected money from artists and galleries but did not bring any profit – this is not a business. No advertising in the media, no posters in the city – this is nonsense. In the USA, many understand how profitable it is to invest money in art, so there are a huge number of institutions and contemporary art museums. Many opportunities and finances are laid at the state level, which practically does not conduct any activities in this direction here.
What is your interaction with museums?
– My paintings are kept in the Norton Dodge Museum in New Jersey; recently, about a dozen works were purchased by Dutchman Rardi Van Soest for his private museum. In general, foreign museums acquire my paintings, but Ukrainian ones have not yet made such offers.
In our Museum of Ukrainian Art, mostly second- and third-rate paintings hang, and it is not worth bringing a knowledgeable person there: it will be embarrassing for the country, as if there is no art here. I do not know in which other country such a thing is possible.
This does not mean that there are no higher or at least first-level artists in Ukraine – quite the opposite. But this sphere requires attention and basic financial investments. Currently, everything is the opposite – works from the storages of the largest museums of Ukraine decorate the walls of presidential apartments, and I do not know if any public control is exercised over the movement of national values in this case.
Characters of some paintings repeat in your works. Why?
– My paintings are not about people. I paint spaces, of which people can be a part. They say nothing, often stand with their backs to the viewer. That is, these characters are indeed recurring. One could say that one personality passes through all the spaces.
Do you embed a moment of provocation in your works?
– I think not. Maybe on a subconscious level. In principle, I have encountered inadequate reactions to my paintings several times – if not fear, then rejection. When my exhibition was held in a psychiatric hospital, a clergyman named Father Asclepius, who worked in the local church then, showed my works to young priests and said that they allegedly contained something anti-Christian: “They are real on one side, and not on the other.” This was the strangest assessment of my art.
Do you have paintings interpreting religious themes?
– No, I do not have paintings on obvious religious themes. But Christians generally respond positively to my works. For some time, I painted icons, but now I do not return to this.
How productive are you as an artist?
– It varies; it depends on the period. Some paintings come out immediately, in one breath; some I start and leave, returning to them after a year or two. Often, the movement of images leads me to completely paint over the existing layer; sometimes this happens several times.
I do not work to sell or not sell – the painting must reach a certain condition.
Your studio is distinctively decorated – all the walls are covered with red fabric. Do you need this for work?
– It is believed that red color excites. In the 19th century, walls in artists’ studios were often made red – paintings are better perceived on a red background.
Who is whose contemporary?
An unprecedented event for Kyiv in the 1970s took place in the exhibition hall on Horky Street thanks to the activities of the “Rukh” club. This club had nothing to do with the People’s Rukh – its members were engaged, for example, in participating in torchlight processions, dancing under the guidance of a French ballerina, some studied psychology and philosophy, others organized their own film club and created visual art. It was under the auspices of “Rukh” that the idea of an art exhibition arose, which, unlike many intellectual initiatives of that time, achieved social embodiment. As an extraordinary phenomenon, it attracted the attention of the cultural public.
Young (then) artists were engaged in searches in the spirit of “art deco,” creating credible parallel realities in their canvases and paradoxically reconciling opposites in photomontages. Participation in the exhibition on Horky Street was not only a statement of talent but also a certain challenge. Some of its participants later left visual art but did not cease to be bright, bold personalities who set the tone and unique color of Kyiv’s cultural life and surroundings for a quarter of a century…
But Oleksandr Kostetsky remained faithful to his youthful choice (…). Those who saw “Star Wars” would be surprised to find that Kostetsky’s precise “portraits” of other local humanoids appeared earlier than George Lucas brought them to the screen. And as for the elven cities from “The Lord of the Rings,” they are in all their glory – on Kostetsky’s paintings created about 30 years ago.
If art has the pathos to be called contemporary, it must correspond to this pathos in everything. In theme, technique, the fate of works – and their creators. The quarter-century that has passed since the bold creative impulse of the participants of the “Rukh” exhibition (…) gives the right to say that these destinies are fully adequate to their time. Moreover, it allows us to assert: they made this time…
Day newspaper, 2003Link
