Kyivan artist Tetiana Falina works in a technique that she defines as “art of thread,” in which the result is called a picture. The author herself has coined these notions. They are both disputable and significant. Falina positions herself, first of all, as an artist and stays away from various glamorous feminine crafts. But the best qualities of these crafts are preserved in her works (although they are not for glamour but for the soul). Among them are warmth, comfort and special “hand-made” spirit, which cannot find its way into the best machine work.
Actually, everything starts not with the technique but with creative research. During this phase countless hanks of colorful threads are scattered on the floor, creating spontaneous combinations, and she observes them that way. Then the idea or plan appears, probably fast. Sometimes this process starts before the scattering — while purchasing the threads or even while looking at the innumerable motley hanks in the shop-window. In any case, the idea appears. Sometimes she makes a sketch but most of time she goes ahead without it. And here is what happens next: paper slips are cut (mostly they are straight but sometimes they can be curved, depending on the idea), various threads are wound on them and each color occupies a certain part of the slip, in accordance with the main idea. Then the slips are combined on the single surface of the picture. Falina herself compares her works with filling up various color “zones” in a children’s coloring book. Once the composition is almost completed, she outlines it with an ornamental border in the same technique but with smaller details. This “art of thread” was not invented by Falina, but the artist introduced her own ideas — while winding the main color can be “diluted” by threads of another shade. As a result, the color change is softer and more picturesque. Falina resolutely avoids stripes, beads, feathers and other “glamour” parts.
The artist studied at the Vyzhnytsia Shkribliak College of Applied Arts and later at the Chernivtsi National University (majored in applied arts). According to her, those were always places of such incredible beauty that the kids there could not help but become artists. That is where the “art of thread,” with its expressive ornamentality, bright and sophisticated colors, and warm and lively “hand-made” spirit originated from. The artist believes that her technique can be used to make spiritual portraits, rather than “outward,” expressive ones. Gentleman, Lady, Braiding Fair Hair, and Ivan and Marichka were created in this direction.
But her most expressive works are landscapes and still life — the more laconic they are, the more expressive.
Still life is the most common subject. This genre, with its deceiving “incoherence” (not just because the classic art study starts with the still life) and boundless opportunities (because of which almost all the artists-experimentalists remained faithful to this genre), appeared to be beneficial for the “art of thread.” Falina emphasizes stylization and decorativeness in her still life pictures. Their “palette” is strictly and accurately defined, and that is why it seems to be rich and sophisticated at the same time. The same goes for the plot. Colorful luxuriant bouquets, dandelions or maple leaves, become openhearted and joyful, and they are a generous and sincere gift to the viewer. Finally, the third group of still life pictures remind one of Far Eastern poetry with its laconism, absolute accuracy of the images and symbolism, which is deep and crystal-clear at the same time. This group includes the poor Little Branch, the tender Snowdrops, Spring Breathing and some other works.
Everything mentioned above can be connected to Falina’s landscapes. Though unique, they can be grouped. The works, dedicated to Vyzhnytsia, Chernivtsi and its suburbs, which charmed the artist during her school years, are closer to the portraits and genre scenes like Ivan and Marichka, no matter how strange that seems. Crimean landscapes (Sunset) with their sharp forms (rocks), and rich, thick yet disturbing colors make up another group. Finally, the absolute lucidity and variety of the poetic allusions draw Moon in the Sky closer to the most lyrical still life pictures.
“Each artist wants to be in demand; he wants his works to find their viewer. I am no exception. I really want people to feel warmer and more cheerful while looking at my works. When they touch my art, I want them to forget for a while about the hardships of modern life, negative things, which weave with invisible threads in the air. I invite you to a world of tenderness, beauty and harmony, with my works,” Falina says.
