Ivan Marchuk shows himself as a mysterious and as always unpredictable artist in the series “Look into Eternity,” which is a part of his solo exhibit entitled “Tricks of the Artistic Spirit.” Several series of art works by the tireless modernist are gathered together in the exhibit, including some early works: The White Planet, Dreams Are Flooding, The Voice of My Soul, and others.
The works from the new series are really innovative for Marchuk’s artistic work. Despite remaining within the boundaries of his style, they mark a new period in his artistic work. Marchuk uses bright local colors, which is a great surprise after the gray and white series “White Planet.” His tiny details of stems and entire microscopic miniaturized worlds have expanded to galactic spaces, which are formed by waves, curls, and broken lines.
Artistic achievements could have cooled the master’s persistence: when all the heights are reached, what else is there to strive for? He is a laureate of the National Taras Shevchenko Prize and the only Ukrainian who got into the top 100 world’s people of genius, according to one of the famous consulting companies. The International Academy of Modern Art in Rome accepted this fine Ukrainian to the Golden Guild, which unites only 51 artists from all over the world. However, all these prizes exist in some sort of a parallel world for the artist, while there is only persistent and almighty artistic work in his own world. Marchuk has told us about this artistic planet of his and all the impressions he receives from present-day society in an exclusive interview he has given to The Day.
What has influenced the creation of the new series?
“I have long gotten out the habit of searching for inspiration. All my inspiration is simply my greediness. Regardless of my wishes and desires, I just have to constantly work, because I want to always see something new. It would seem that there are already ten different Marchuks (without counting the derivatives), and one could calm down. But I go to my studio again with constant thoughts about what is there that I haven’t yet done.
“I have finally made up my mind to create something drastically new. I thought to myself: Why don’t I cut the galaxy into different pieces and paint these worlds in my studio for as much as the space will let me. If even all of these paintings are brought together as a mosaic, they begin to sparkle. Even though they are all different, they are just like twins, made in one style and one manner of painting. Artists are interested in how I do it. They ask me whether it is the sprayer that I work with. However, it is possible to blow a form like that only using my method. Flat is not the same! The world is three-dimensional, and art has to have volume to it.”
It looks as if you see more than just the three-dimensional world.
“I do not know what I see. I use my brush on canvas as a conductor uses his baton to direct an orchestra. While the conductor gets sounds, I get color and form. It all results in a different world. Then I can step back and look at what I’ve created. I put on canvas something that nobody can see, something you can’t put in a pocket, so nobody can cheat on you.”
Mr. Marchuk, isn’t there a dilemma then between the content and the form in your creative work?
“Many art critics do not know how to interpret my work as I have broken all the traditions — all these recognized art schools and all the isms. I do not mean academism but all the modern trends. I just had to come up with my own style, my own colors, and my own everything in order to find myself.
“All my canvases have one and only sense — it’s the voice of my soul. Even my landscapes are similar to associative novels. I have begun from the voice of my heart —this is the entire essence of my painting. Today it is like a tree, a trunk, and all the marchuks and marchuchkas are the branches attached to this trunk. Now there is the tenth branch of the new series on the tree. Maybe it would be possible to add another branch, apart from painting, to that tree, but I do not have time for anything else.”
Where was the best place for you to create?
“I think that the best places were America and Australia. Those periods in my work had a great impact. I had been trying to make up my mind from 1975 whether I should leave Kyiv or not. After 20 years the pressure became unbearable. I had been hesitating for a long time and so just wasted time while my friends left Ukraine back in the 1960s. Later they told me: ‘Ivan, do not rape your freedom.’ I decided that, indeed, I wouldn’t.
“As soon as a chance presented itself, I went rather far off — to Australia. I just had to leave, because by then so many moral and psychological insults had accumulated that I could no longer bear them. Constant labels of ‘forbidden’ or ‘unnecessary’ were just too much for me. I wanted to create, to work, and I needed to feel some comfort in order to do so. I remember my main expression at that time: ‘I badly want to want to work.’ And I had no such desire here any more. When I went to the US, this question disappeared from the agenda.”
What exactly was it that made you awaken?
“You see, the change of surroundings itself has a positive influence on me. Even when I lived in Kyiv in Soviet times, once a month I would go somewhere by plane: to Ternopil, Lviv, Uzhhorod, the Baltic States, or Moscow. It always gave me a stimulus, and I would come to life again after two or three days away.
“Living in the West, however, you have to think about how to survive. Oh! This is the most important thing. If you are an artist and have no other job, you have to count only on your works. So I had to switch on, as they say, all my registers and set my own working day from six a.m. till 11 p.m. I haven’t learned the language, because I did not want to lose one minute. I was happy that I belonged to myself there. Nobody could step on my foot or say something bad to me. I had absolutely and completely positive experiences. It was so much different from what was in Kyiv both then and now: wherever you go, you face negative things.”
Do you regret that you came back?
“I was a fool to come back. I need to change my place of residence.”
In your opinion, does Ukrainian art have a future in the world?
“There are two kinds of art: one is that is kept in the museums and I will never be allowed in there, which is no big deal; the other one is general Ukrainian art in which world-class masters work. There are born talents in both spheres. I think that everything is fine with modern Ukrainian art. If we could, for example, take 100 best Ukrainian artists and send them out to different parts of the world for two or three years, we would surely have a whole pleiad of world-renowned artists.
“Then our state officials would see how they could turn our country into a powerful state. Today they do not know because they do not want to know. Others laugh at us and spit on us — and we have such great talents! Thank goodness, most of our talents find a better life after they leave the country. In my opinion the core artists are Liubomyr Medvid, Borys Petrenko, and Borys Plaksii. I have helped Plaksii organize his first exhibit when he was 60 and he won a prize for it.”
What can we do today to change the situation?
“The artists have to count on themselves, which means that they have to open functioning art centers, as artists do all over the world. It is also important to have the state encourage their activities.
“There are groups of artists in the world united on different criteria: design, technique, etc. They organize themselves into groups, and it helps them achieve what they want. We do not have anything like that, and the cornerstone of this is envy. It is not possible to remove it with anything, even with branding iron. That is why we are suffering and will suffer until this land will drive them out. There is no such thing in America. I’ve been like in paradise for the past 12 years — nobody has ever envied me. Everybody there takes pride in himself/herself, while our rulers are brimming over with arrogance rather than pride.”
