Only a lazy one will not recall that it is written “Artist by the grace of God” on Vladyslav Shereshevsky’s calling card. An egoistic, brazen, and self-confident claim, but, on the other hand, there is no denying that Shereshevsky is a talented and original artist. Once you see his pictures, you will remember the author’s name forever.
Besides, there is another aspect in this definition. Slavko’s parents had nothing to do with art, but when he was four (isn’t it a sign from above?) he once found some sheets of paper in his grandfather’s study room and began to draw on them. Those were scholarly notes. When Slavko grew up a little and was six or seven, he began illustrating his own (!) fairytales whose content was typical of an ordinary Kyiv boy: the Germans entered the city, and local guys formed a guerrilla detachment to fight the invaders. It was a paraphrase of the TV films that were popular in his childhood. A few pages of the “book” were a text and the rest – only drawings. It was easier for Slavko to draw than to write. The parents attached no special importance to their son’s scribbles – they were busy training a future man. Slavko Shereshevsky could have made a figure skater, a swimmer, a hockey player, a wrestler, or even a weight-lifter, but he preferred soccer. Yet he did not become a professional soccer player because he finally decided in his senior grades that painting was his first and foremost vocation.
Let us make a “flash-forward” into the present day, where the name of Vladyslav Shereshevsky is known not only in a narrow circles of professionals in Ukraine and abroad (as long ago as 1995 the artist won a scholarship from Germany’s Ministry of Culture). Audiences love him, and collectors would not mind boasting, if an opportunity arises, that there are Shereshevsky’s pictures in their house. And let us say frankly that you can envy them: imagine you wake up in a bad mood and see a naughty-looking Alexander Pushkin on the wall, who reads Belkin’s Tales to the naked Anna Kern. It’s mindless, funny, and beautiful, but you begin your day with a smile. Slavko works incredibly much and fast. As we are still under the impression of a somewhat alarming exhibition, “PEOPLE,” the Museum of Kyiv’s History has opened with so much pomp the mischievous exposition “Wi-Fi,” where the artist gets back to the “barefaced style” (the author’s definition) of the 1990s. He ponders over the current events with irony – sometimes light, sometimes sarcastic, and often tragicomic. Take, for example, the portrait of Gogol with the caption “Our N. Gogol” and a yellow-blue ribbon in the picture’s lower right corner, usually the place for a black mourning one, or a gorgeously-shaped Amazon who speeds far into the distance on a blue horse – “Whoever does not gallop is a Muscovite!” Everybody can see as many meanings in his pictures as his or her intellect and mood allow, including the fact that the most beautiful women live in Ukraine. And while visitors were looking at the canvases, reading the captions, and discussing what they saw, the hero of the occasion suggested with a mischievous wink that we go, as a bonus, for a cup of coffee to a little cozy restaurant Kanapa on Andriivsky Uzviz because it hosts Food Art, a “gastro-style” Shereshevsky exhibit (whoever has not yet seized this opportunity can do so before the end of the month). After receiving a fair share of compliments, flowers, and kisses, Shereshevsky was out of reach a few days later – he painted a new series of pictures in a Carpathians open-air session. Word has it that these pictures are going to be, as usual, interesting and will differ from his previous works.
ON HOW AN ARTIST DEVELOPS HIS TRADEMARK STYLE
Vladyslav, I won’t reinvent the wheel if I say that every artist (in any case, a good one) has a world, or universe, if you like, of their own. It is populated by children and adults, and it is visited by geniuses of the pen and the paintbrush – like Pushkin and Van Gogh in your case. This world is recognizable and, by force of logic, should have a name. What name would you give to Vladyslav Shereshevsky’s planet?
“It is difficult to express this in one word. Let art critics do this, even though their profession looks somewhat weak in this country. They watch and know about general trends in art. But, as an artist, Vladyslav Shereshevsky does not fit the customary pattern in this case, and art critics are perplexed and unable to say what kind of a phenomenon it is. As for my style, some of my young friends attached a name to it as long ago as 1991 at a Sednev outdoor painting session. It does not sound all too euphonic but reveals the essence of artworks – d***headedness! Once, talking with an intellectually developed gentleman about art, I asked him what he thought of my pictures: ‘Well, do they reach d***headedness or not?’ ‘They do,’ he said willingly. Then we began to say simply: does or does not reach.”
But it is no secret that you graduated from the Art Institute’s Graphics Department and illustrated books, including those for children. The works’ style must have been entirely different at the time. Shereshevsky’s “trademark” – the ability to skillfully balance between postcard kitsch (1940-50), primitive comics, and high professionalism almost always reinforced with a witty word (literary, artistic, and cinematic quotations) – was formed later. What caused and prompted the formation of it?
“The book graphics did. I had to work with words always, for I was supposed to choose the most important and needed things from the text for illustrations. To tell the truth, I did not deal with graphics for long. At the institute, I illustrated The Snow Queen, which, incidentally, I didn’t do in traditionally fine style.”
Not Glazunov?
“By no means. And, oddly enough, the Ministry of Culture purchased several works which I had submitted for a national painting exhibition. Then I dealt with Chekhov’s plays, but it was not books but easel lithographs about each play. I also had a very interesting experience – I did a cover for Yurii Didenko-Chorny’s book Evening Lights, which I still remember very well. I handed in the first sketch, and editors said: ‘It’s not bad, but you should still work.’ I would bring different versions of the cover for two months or so, and the editor finally ‘chose’ the… first version. I saw that it would be difficult to go on working with idiots. And the book was disgusting indeed – it was set in the 1950s-1960s in the Donbas, where the good and the better struggled with one another. And it was a thick one! Not a single villain around… I’ve never read other ‘oeuvres’ like this in my lifetime.”
And if you were invited to do some book graphics today, what kind of literature would you take with pleasure?
“I can’t even imagine the way books are illustrated now. I don’t want to take children’s books and don’t understand those intended for adults. They don’t need pictures inside the books – only on the cover. And the cover must be conspicuous and kitschy even if the book is very good and serious. It should draw the attention of shoppers in order to sell well. Incidentally, children’s literature can also be illustrated in such a ‘barefaced’ style. I once saw an East German book of this kind and could not understand for a long time what I liked in it. Although it was illustrated badly and wrongly, and the drawings were half-naive, albeit done by a professional, it enchanted me.”
Did you finally understand what enchanted you?
“Workmanship. It always happens in big-time art: some picture leaves an imprint on your mind even if it is ‘not in your line,’ but you keep on thinking about it and understand at a certain moment why it has stirred you. As you mature professionally, you learn to ‘read’ the outstanding pieces of art.”
TOUCHES TO THE PORTRAIT
How did you hit upon the idea of the well-known spiteful work “Vova Putin in School”? For it was drawn long ago, when nothing boded evil days?
“The picture was published in the 2005 catalog, but it is an author’s repeat. The original version was drawn in 1999.”
So, why did Putin’s personality arouse your interest? For he was not even the president of Russia?
“The artist foresaw more jokes about little Vova” (laughs).
ON BONNARD AND SOUTINE, BUKOWSKI AND DOVLATOV, ZHADAN AND ANDRUKHOVYCH
What kind of painting do you think is “yours”? What artists are your kindred spirits?
“I like today the paintings of Pierre Bonnard and Chaim Soutine. I share their ways, but they are not exactly noticeable in my oeuvre. I have always liked Van Gogh and Rembrandt. As for right realists, it is Valentin Serov and Vladimir Moshkov [also spelt as Mashkov. – Author]. Out of our Cezannists, I like Pyotr Konchalovsky. Maybe, somebody else would be naming present-day artists now. But all the contemporary artists are in fact using updated heritage. Before the beginning of the 20th century, there still were artists who were moving forward. But today even gifted people make no discoveries – they go in line with the achievements of the acclaimed masters.”
OLEKSA
“I wouldn’t like to flatter you straightforwardly, but I’ll have to do so: the artist Shereshevsky is now walking down an unbeaten track. Incidentally, in addition to witty and meaningful captions that often “turn pictures upside down,” what has always astonished me is your ability to give as simple and precise names to you exhibits as possible – “Women’s Day,” “The Shereshevsky Cocktail,” “PEOPLE,” “Wi-Fi.” And, reading the prospectus of an exhibit, you can well imagine what you will see. This sharply contrasts with some ostensibly wise and blurred formulations (from which many of even very good artists suffer), such as “The Perfectionism of Paper,” “Conceptuality of the Unknown,” etc.
“I have perhaps a more figurative way of thinking. I can always say clearly what title will better characterize my works.”
In my view, the reason is also in the fact that you read all kinds of books in childhood.
“Incidentally, I read good books in childhood.”
What do you mean by “good”?
“Adventure books. My elder son also grew up on this kind of literature, but the younger son, now 16, has a different perception – all these ‘Mayne Reids,’ ‘Jack Londons’ and other ‘Fenimore Coopers’ seem dull to him. But I take interest in them even at my current age.”
I agree. I myself decided recently to reread The Adventures of Dunno and his Friends and derived pleasure.
“I read, as far as I remember, two thick Dunno books avidly in a children’s hospital. Memories are also good. As I was growing up, I admired Maupassant and liked Balzac, oddly enough.”
And who is on you priority list today?
“I really like Charles Bukowski and Sergey Dovlatov, as well as Gogol and Chekhov, for the ‘neat’ word, as the phrase goes. And I just read everything else. There are some books today, which come into vogue very fast, but I forget their titles six months after I’ve read them.
“I am going now to closely deal with Ukrainian literature. They say there are some things of value. I have already read Zhadan. As for Sofia Andrukhovych, I even took one of her books to a plein air session but had no time to read.”
TOUCHES TO THE PORTRAIT
Do you have a hobby, a favorite pastime?
“Unfortunately, the hobby – playing soccer – is gradually fading away, for I am old. The team is getting younger, and I’ve stopped deriving pleasure from soccer, for I am not as quick and agile as before.”
And what was your role on the pitch?
“A halfback in the last while, and I was a forward until I turned 35 or so.”
Did you play well, honestly?
“Yes, I did.”
ON WHAT “BEAUTY” AND “VULGARITY” ARE
Incidentally, about the plein air. Are you happy with the results?
“I am very happy, for I found new colors in me. I painted a few little houses, almost from life, in Slavske – I first photographed them and then made an object of art out of them (laughs). I’ve found a style which I’ll try to develop. I think the drawings are good. Everybody liked them on paper. When I brought them to the studio today, the artists looked and said ‘well done’ sincerely. These people have known me for a long time, and we have established trustful relations – if something had been wrong, they wouldn’t have hidden it. In the next three weeks I will paint Kyiv’s views in this style, the views which are not on postcards but which I, a Kyivite, know. My plan is to show a slightly different city.”
Is there a feeling of rivalry among artists?
“Maybe. It is normal, although it may not be so in the case of the ones you’ve been friends with for a long time.”
Do the works of your friends hang in your house?
“Just a few – Zhuravel, Weisberg, Levych, Malykh, Bludov… I am not a collection buff, but there are some nice works which I like.”
What is your idea of beauty?
(Turns livelier.) “Sashko Zhivotkov, who had seen ‘Wi-Fi,’ called me the other day and said: ‘A very nice exhibit.’ It is a real treat to hear such praise from him, for he is a formalist. And Sashko has a high and uncommon taste, but he read all the captions, laughed, and saw beauty in the pictures. I also consider it beauty. For everything beautiful is harmonious. I have portraits of elderly women – they are all beauties in spite of unattractive features of their faces. Beauty… For example, I recently met a girl and could not take my eyes off her. She has thin lips and a very large nose. But she smiles all the time, has dimples on her cheeks and beautiful eyes. As an artist, I was looking at her and wondering why she managed to charm me. She will obviously look not so good on photographs, but when you see her in the flesh, she is beautiful. One must know how to see this. I read a study on why artists get tired in museums. They don’t look at pictures the way ordinary spectators do – the apple of their eye always moves, and an artist can see ten times more than a layman can within the same period of time. So, after visiting a museum, he or she may be very tired because they have in fact done a great deal of research there.”
And what is vulgarity?
“I don’t even know what to say… I try not to come across vulgarity, though it occurs at every step. We are living amidst this, and we must not notice it. Otherwise, you will feel sad. But vulgarity is, of course, getting the upper hand. This can be called ‘averaging the average stage.’ Unfortunately, it is a worldwide tendency. Culture is being reduced to the average level, while morons are being raised to make them understand it. In a few decades’ time, everything will be a statistical mean. I can already see these trends in painting.”
TOUCHES TO THE PORTRAIT
Is their patriarchate or matriarchate in your family?
“Matriarchate, perhaps 60 to 40 percent in favor of Olena. She is active at home, and I no longer offer resistance” (laughs).
Do you paint your wife often?
“She complains that I seldom do so, although everybody says Olena is shown, one way or another, in all my works.”
Does she like this?
“She can’t possibly dislike this! (Laughs.) But, frankly speaking, I don’t often paint my relatives. Some artists always draw their wives and children, but I find it difficult to do so.”
ON THE GENEALOGICAL TREE AND THE MAIDAN
If you had an opportunity to gather a company of interesting people (of any epoch and various walks of life) for a cup of tea in your studio, who would you invite?
“I am not wise enough to speak with the outstanding people we all know and respect. My upper limit is actors. I would not cope with philosophers and film directors because my intellectual level is too low for this.”
Oh, quit kidding!
“I am not wise but talented! (Laughs). But I’m short of brains a little, for I have too little Jewish blood – 25 percent only.”
What other blood is there?
“Officially, I have 25 percent Russian and 50 percent Ukrainian blood. There are also Poles from the Jewish sides. Incidentally, one of my grandfathers was Russian, and I’ve been thinking lately about what negative features I inherited from him. I can’t recall any. He was so good, although he liked drinking. I can’t do this – in the same quantities” (laughs).
And what did you borrow from the Ukrainians?
“Enthusiasm. Yes, I am awfully enthusiastic and persistent.”
Persistent or stubborn?
“Both persistent and stubborn. At the same time. As for the virtual company, I am very sorry that I failed to mingle with Bohdan Stupka. We were once even going to put on a play with his participation (Bohomazov and I were to be stage director and production designer, respectively), but there were some problems with the sponsors. It’s a pity. Out of the present-day actors, I think Kostia Khabensky is a good guy. I’d like to speak to him. I could also invite some soccer players, but there are no very wise persons among them. As for Lobanovsky, I don’t know what we could speak about. Maybe, I would just gather my friends, including Dima Bohomazov and some artists, just a company of good people for a chat.”
And what kind of person are you in everyday life? Judging by your works, you should be cheerful and ironical. But it often happens the other way round – for example, with satire writers – when you are easy-going in the profession but secluded in everyday life.
“I began to notice that I have stopped ‘cutting a dash’ at parties in the past 10 years. I can, of course, crack a brief joke but I can no longer tell long stories, especially mimicking someone else. I don’t know why. I must have retreated into myself too much and only derive pleasure from the way others joke. Is it old age? (Laughs.) But I am not boring, I am normal. Other artists in the studio keep coming to me to have tea of coffee and listen to a funny story.”
Side effects of the profession. For artists are essentially lonely. They are fixated on creative work and often say that art and transient life are incompatible. And let me admit that I was astonished with the public activism of your colleagues during the Maidan. I know that you too were not an onlooker during the Kyiv events in the winter of 2014. How was work going on at the time? Did you paint pictures in your characteristic style or was it a wrong time for joking even on the canvas?
“I would come out on the Maidan all the time, for I needed this. But I felt no all-embracing optimism – it was clear to me that we would overthrow Yanukovych but this would only be the beginning. This really happened. And I painted all the time. To tell the truth, I created no oeuvres of genius – just some small-size chamber pieces. There were a lot of good ones among them. But whenever I got down to a large canvas the result was mediocre, and I always repaint mediocre works.”
Do you paint them over?
“Yes, if I feel that things go awry. Incidentally, I began drawing pictures on Ukrainian national themes not in the winter but much later, in about three months’ time, in the summer, when we were reconsidering the situation.”
An unavoidable question: is there a demand for these artworks?
“I would say that my works are being sold. I immediately supported the volunteer movement to raise funds for ATO soldiers – after each sale I would give handsome amounts in cash to the organizers of charitable auctions. Every time I go to the supermarket, I buy things not only for my family, but also for the military. I put macaroni, canned meat, tea, and coffee into volunteers’ baskets. I can’t do otherwise.”
It’s a noble action. Incidentally, you once said about yourself in an old interview: “I am a good and practically ideal person.” Usually, such words are said about a person by other people who produce some proof of this. And what were you guided with when you characterized yourself in this manner?
(Laughs.) “Firstly, I am kind. Secondly (and supposedly), I am easy-going and not mean. This means ‘I am good,’ to quote the writer Hryshkovets who, unfortunately, betrayed the Ukrainian cause.
“I am a positive hero, an absolutely positive, honest, open-hearted, relatively wise, and cheerful guy. This is why I paint so optimistic pictures” (laughs).
