Vase Print

Continuation of the "Beijing series", in which I paint objects and a background blending together, using colorful shapes, surrounded by unpainted outlines, so that the main subject of the painting is not the object itself, but the contrast between the colors and the canvas. From Instagram description of the work: "A vase is a vessel abundant of meanings. For some people certain vases mean something, for others vases are just things that stand there as a decoration; for someone it maybe a thing to put flowers in, for someone else it could symbolize a deceased one, yet for others it may represent ancient history. When I was a kid, part of my family went on a trip to Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine. My mom stayed with my little sister, and the male side of the family (I grew up in a patriarchal family) went away to explore another country. I don’t remember much, only certain excerpts, like going down into the deepest subway in the world on an escalator, or being absolutely tired while crossing a bridge over the river Dnipro; I remember seeing a palace build by an Italian architect, the nationality is underlined in the memory; also I remember seeing dead saint Makary in Kyiv Pechersk Lavra caves where hundreds of dead saints lay. I was named after this guy. I think I almost burnt my eyelashes with a candle, when I saw him, (it’s dark in the caves, so you walk around with candles, and you can also leave some next to a saint of your choice), but nothing happened in the end, and my dad told me, that was the work of the saint. I might be wrong on some details, my memory is really blurry, but that was the gist of it. When we were ready to go back home, my dad wanted to get a gift for my mom, so we bought her a Chinese vase. I don’t think it was a genuine one, although as far as I remember it wasn’t cheap as for our class. I found it quite beautiful, just a white vase with blue flowery patterns. We still have it displayed in a cupboard at home. So when I think of a vase it usually brings up a chain of those memories. Who’d guess I’d be in China two decades later writing it all down. Anyway, the fact is, none of this is about the actual vase, the vase is just a placeholder, all those meanings are my own memories. So, this vase is not really a vase, it’s what I see in it, and what I see is my past memories. There is no vase. Only an arrangement of shapes and colors, built from relationships with something perceived outside of myself. It’s a chain of memories."