A lengthy exploration of the works of 74-year-old artist Hanna Samutina brings to mind a couple of lines from a poem by Anna Akhmatova: “If you only knew / The kind of refuse/ On which verses grow / You would be ashamed.”
Crushed shells and glass, straw, beads, kernels of dried corn, and pebbles — even beer bottle caps or chocolate wrappers — are some of the materials that Samutina has had to use for her art while trying to survive on a monthly pension of 300-400 hryvnias. She cannot purchase any art materials and denies herself even a television and telephone. But she is happy as long as she can create. She is one of those individuals about whom people say: “She devoted her entire life to art.” She doesn’t have a family, just a sister who lives in Israel. But she has created several hundred incomparable canvases, 300 alone in the past decade.
“In retirement my sister no longer had to earn money and could work more,” Sofia Samutina-Bolsunovska told The Day. “So for the past 20 years she has worked non-stop, day and night. She would do sketches and then create her collages with any available material. Hanna never bought anything because she didn’t have money. She denied herself everything so that she could afford a loaf of bread. She created her colorful materials and, like an artist, deliberated whether they could be put to creative use. She has never sold anything or received any commissions because she still believes that this is beneath her. She has always given her art away.”
Her sister recalls how she and Hanna would visit Kyiv art galleries, showing photographs of her work, but everyone always refused to organize a show for her. Sofia says that the former mayor of Pereiaslav- Khmelnytsky organized a show in Kyiv. But later everyone forgot about the artist Samutina because she refused “to vote for Leonid Kuchma.”
Artist Boris Yegizarian recalls: “When I first saw Hanna’s works, it occurred to me as an artist that for many years I have been suffering because I could not find anything in the art world that would amaze me, provide a stimulus, and inspire me. The impression was that I had seen everything, and it was very difficult for me to live. I needed encounters, to recognize something new and wonderful. And then I saw Hanna Samutina’s work and was overjoyed. I wanted to show them to everyone! This Ukrainian woman has such powerful spiritual strength. A country in which women have such tenderness and spiritual strength has a huge spiritual potential. And this spiritual enlightenment is our country’s most powerful weapon. Ukraine will become a great European state because it has such enchanting and tender women who are producing world-level art.” Unfortunately, I could not interview Hanna Samutina, although she was present at the opening of her exhibit. She had suffered a stroke and could barely speak or hear. She did manage to comment on her canvas Khram skhodzhen [The Temple of Ascent], which portrays several people, who have removed a boulder from a creek: some are drinking, while others are scrabbling up a hill. She whispered: “This one has barely reached the top; now he is drinking the life-giving water; this one is a lazybones, he doesn’t want to do any kind of work; he doesn’t want to achieve anything in life. All he needs is to be able to bask in the harmony of the world; he loves creativity.” She seemed to be describing living people.
Mykola Zhulynsky, an advisor to President Yushchenko, could not conceal his emotions. “We enter this art gallery and look at the pictures through children’s eyes. They are beautiful! I have just familiarized myself with of this woman’s art, and I think she is a singular phenomenon. Perhaps some ‘distilled’ art professionals may be wary about Hanna Samutina’s style because it reminds them of kitsch, something that verges on the artist’s desire to impress viewers, but which does not have a creative end. But anyone who enters Hanna’s world is instantly aware that behind the very complex structure of her work are painting and sculpture and mosaics — an extraordinarily interesting and attractive synthesis. This says that she has an excellent command of monumental art and has a good feel for composition. Her works are compositionally perfect and effective; they beg to be displayed in places that could convey a festive and solemn atmosphere. Such an artist is a godsend to children with creative talents who would like to discover the mystery of creative expression. I would like to see a Hanna Samutina art school, where the pupils would burn with creative inspiration.”
Zhulynsky also believes that the kind of materials the artist uses does not play a major role. The main thing is what has been produced from these materials: “You step inside and begin marveling. When you get closer to the works, the effect may fade. You shouldn’t stand close to them; you should view them from a distance, especially since they are meant to be perceived in precisely this manner. Just look at this splendid play of color!”
A number of Samutina’s works have philosophical, even ostentatious, titles, like The Music of the Spheres, Start of Joy, Purification of the Earth, Cosmos and Chaos, Outer Space: the Cradle of Man, I Have Come Not with Peace but with a Sword. Lidia Onyschchenko, the physician who treated Samutina after her stroke, recalls that the artist always said, “I get my cues for the titles of my pictures from heaven.” Dr. Onyshchenko shared her joy at her patient’s swift recovery: “She was able to recover quickly because she is a highly spiritual person; there is nothing superfluous about her. I gave her only five massages and prescribed some pills. But what brought her back to life was her creative inspiration and desire to get back to work.”
“It is a unique phenomenon.” It is hard to tell to whom this phrase, which was heard many times during the vernissage, applies more: to Samutina or the “living beings” — her paintings
Journalist Yuri Makarov sees the fullness of life in Samutina’s paintings, which have helped dispel the myth that all the art that is created more than 50 km from Kyiv breathes provincialism and amateurism. Makarov said that his first impression from her exhibit was that he was in the wrong place, that what he was viewing was a display of art works from the south: “Theoretically speaking, her technique is germane to Armenians, Georgians, even Italian or Spanish artists, people who live where there’s a lot of sunshine, where there’s no winter. This is something that knocks you off your feet and overwhelms even hardened people. If this is genuine, it comes through.”
It is unfortunate that Samutina’s art is receiving attention so belatedly. Yet artists of her caliber are primarily concerned about creativity, not art shows. Perhaps a philanthropist will be found to undertake this task. Hanna’s sister Sofia was happy to see all the canvases hanging on the peach-colored walls of the well-lit gallery, compared to the artist’s flat or the Bread Museum in Pereiaslav, which has an incorrect interior temperature.
There are only 37 of Samutina’s collages at the Art Foxtrot show. Many of her masterpieces are back in Pereiaslav, where Samutina dreams of a museum where all of her works could be hung. She has already presented 60 pieces to the city.
