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Ivan Marchuk. I could paint the sky and not repeat
Every morning, in the area of ??National University of Taras Shevchenko in Kiev, in the rain and in the sun, on weekdays and weekends, you can find majestically beautiful gray-haired man - beautifully long-haired, with a mustache, he always goes to his workshop. From its windows you can see only the roof and sky. There, in the attic of an old house, nothing to distract him from his work. How many kilometers thinnest of threads he had to hold on canvas and paper, to weave two thousand pictures!
The first exhibition he was allowed to take place in 43 years. A member of the Union of Artists, he became 52, 66 bought the first in the life of a suit (for the celebrations in connection with the award of the title "People's Artist of Ukraine"), but then first sat behind the wheel of your own car. ... When an artist finally tired straightened his back and looked up from his work, he saw the luxury Cossack mustache turned white, life has passed. His ascetic life not shake the future generations bohemian booze and stormy affair with comely muses, although the lack of real passions more than offset the rumors. "I nedolyublennosti", - says 75 - year old artist
Ivan Marchuk.
I was born into a poor family in a village in the Ternopil region Moskalivka. Parents us children were four: three sisters and me. I must say that although we lived in dire poverty, I grew up in this paradise. The whole hut is buried in flowers, they just trailed along the walls. Girls engaged in floriculture, cherries grown around and it's all so Buyalo! Well, who as a child does not like to draw, paint play? However, not only paints - even a pencil I had. Like all children, in the morning I ran into the street and everything is colorful. What did I do? Drew their juice. Already as a student, I learned that this technology is applied once Rabindranath Tagore. One flower on paper maznesh - it gives the yellow color, the other - blue, the third - red ... natural dyes: pluck, compress ... As time went on, I was playing, and then went to a Christmas tree and get a gift - ma-and -alenky albomchik. God, for the rural child it was such a joy!
You see, from above Bozya prompted me: "You have to do just that. Take a pencil or pen and spoil his album". And I started to spoil. Then I said: "All geese and cows graze not anymore, and the earth to handle, too - it is not mine." And I'll terribly stubborn - that wanted to be someone, something (in school rushed into the lead bully was incredible. How my mother for all the beat! .. And rightly so). And if the finger of the Lord pointed out to me that I should pick up a brush - all life on this end. This, obviously, and had the talent. I'm not sleeping, not eating - painted, wherever he could, and thought, as well prodolzhit.Nu on talent necessary to develop, that is, to learn. Lviv was College of Applied Arts - went there ... It was a hard time, the 50th year. From the first time I was in school and do not get. In the second year I have, thank God, did.
Five years have passed in the school for me under the sign of Shishkin - it was my favorite artist. As we go into the forest with the lads on the sketches, they've always cursing. And all because that way I could not find a better motiv.Taschilsya with the heavy easel kilometer, the second ... If today I go somewhere with my eyes closed vyvezut and say, "John, you paint on - cool," I will not step set foot, but the 10-20 draw landscapes. Apparently, we had a whole life to live, to see the beauty just before the nose: here it is, in front of you, only Learn to see her do something. Thousands of people are looking at the nature of my eyes. Come to the show and say, "Mamtsyu Ridna! Shcho vin namalyuvav? Well That aside nihto navit i do not divivsya." And now everyone is watching. People walk past the hill a thousand times and not notice it, but when I drew this hump, made poetry, scratching their heads, "Well Holy smoke! Near my hut is almost the same, and I'm at it no attention." Beauty - it at every turn, the main thing - to be able to see it. That's why I live in Ukraine, not to stagger the world? I'm always happens, and the best land, which is just as I would like to draw, nowhere.
Upon graduation, I said, "I am" - and decided that I would not do what 11 years of student taught. I learned the basics, this whole alphabet malyarstva, anatomy, painted portraits, even naked body, but I constantly tormented by the thought that it's not mine, I need more. As they say, "hi bude girshe, Abi inshe." There is already the highest category of talent: you are called to create their own world, and I drew his attention to the world around me, to nature. Of course, I painted landscapes and a student, and then, but I was somehow not interested, and then suddenly began to look interested in winter, autumn and spring bare trees. What a beauty! This is the same as the naked model. Each tree has its own anatomy, its pattern. Nature, like girls, warp, weaving, lace bedspreads vyvyazyvayut, and I see it on a sky background. I think: well as on the canvas to convey how? It would seem that a broom daub - and will be a million branches, but it's not - unoriginal.
And then I began to remember, invent ... I know how to thread scurry all his life in them. My father was a weaver, fabric did tsya Lyada Stukalo day i Nich day i Nich ... I know the process inside and out: how to plant hemp as a thread of it do - and so much until you take into the hands of the shirt. .. All this I was a kid. "And what is - I think - now I do not gossip, being an artist with two diplomas?". If I had not taken place, did not find myself, do not know what to do then. I f the technique absolutely niyaky ...
Wizard style defies sophisticated classifications. Belonging to any of their it discards them. Because he has everything: landscapes, portraits, naive, "nude", anything at all ... fabulous grand cycle of abstract works ... It can not be confused with the works of other artists - at least in our galaxy. Plentanizm, in short ... This is - a name that artist jokingly gave to his style. From the words "weave", "plentati": if the picture created from glomeruli fanciful yarns.
Many Ukrainian landscapes were written when I lived in New York from memory. You know, the whole of Ukraine is in my soul, in my head, I just carry it on their shoulders. In New York really drew mainly "the voice of my soul." Moved on to larger formats, new paint, but longing for Ukraine remained. And she went to a series of magical Ukrainian nights. What could be better than the Ukrainian night?
- Living at home, you were not happy because they do not have freedom. While living abroad, were not happy because it was free, but it was not Ukraine. After returning home, you finally feel yourself a happy man?
- I do not know how to define happiness, it seems to me that my happiness - is eternal torment. Bad or nice meal, but they always accompany me, this is the leitmotif of my life and maybe my luck. After all, when I suffer the most in me, something is born. If I am calm and satisfied, I no. Fortunately, I have lived to a time when the house does not want to run. Now, on the contrary - I am pleased to live here.
- A special theme - Marchuk and women. This is such a sensitive issue ... Personal life I never had. Perhaps I am not suited to it, but that does not mean that women do not exist for me. Probably because I have lived all my life and one that scared like women.
- Ivan Stepanovich, finally I want to ask you a question ... God forbid, of course, but if tomorrow you will be a voice: "John, you will not get more into the hands of any brush or pencil. I'll give you an opportunity to draw a picture, the last" - it would be for the painting?
- No, I'm not going to draw - bring into the house of a woman. So will be the last moment of my life, my last picture. Of course, this is a joke, but it has some truth. I will say this: no matter how I lived, no matter how proud of their freedom, but at the last moment I want to try something that had never known. Here is a woman that she is a bed in my lizhko hati. This is me figuratively speaking: to bed ... or open the door, smiled at me, I would look in the beautiful eyes, a pleasant face and get pleasure from it. The woman, in my opinion, should be at least for aesthetics. This, on which you want to watch that wants to listen.
Was four decades from the beginning of creative activity Ivan Marchuk. He divides his creativity into three periods. First - bondage, when he lived in openly hostile "Sovdepii." In fact, they paid dislike each other. Second - 11 years of exile. A time when the artist was in Australia and America. In his own words, renewable energy after dvadtsyatilitnego Soviet press. But never felt it "his". And the third - the period of the Will, when he returned to the new Ukraine. Maybe not very comfortable, but their own.
Ivan Marchuk. I could paint the sky and not repeat
Every morning, in the area of ??National University of Taras Shevchenko in Kiev, in the rain and in the sun, on weekdays and weekends, you can find majestically beautiful gray-haired man - beautifully long-haired, with a mustache, he always goes to his workshop. From its windows you can see only the roof and sky. There, in the attic of an old house, nothing to distract him from his work. How many kilometers thinnest of threads he had to hold on canvas and paper, to weave two thousand pictures!
The first exhibition he was allowed to take place in 43 years. A member of the Union of Artists, he became 52, 66 bought the first in the life of a suit (for the celebrations in connection with the award of the title "People's Artist of Ukraine"), but then first sat behind the wheel of your own car. ... When an artist finally tired straightened his back and looked up from his work, he saw the luxury Cossack mustache turned white, life has passed. His ascetic life not shake the future generations bohemian booze and stormy affair with comely muses, although the lack of real passions more than offset the rumors. "I nedolyublennosti", - says 75 - year old artist
Ivan Marchuk.
I was born into a poor family in a village in the Ternopil region Moskalivka. Parents us children were four: three sisters and me. I must say that although we lived in dire poverty, I grew up in this paradise. The whole hut is buried in flowers, they just trailed along the walls. Girls engaged in floriculture, cherries grown around and it's all so Buyalo! Well, who as a child does not like to draw, paint play? However, not only paints - even a pencil I had. Like all children, in the morning I ran into the street and everything is colorful. What did I do? Drew their juice. Already as a student, I learned that this technology is applied once Rabindranath Tagore. One flower on paper maznesh - it gives the yellow color, the other - blue, the third - red ... natural dyes: pluck, compress ... As time went on, I was playing, and then went to a Christmas tree and get a gift - ma-and -alenky albomchik. God, for the rural child it was such a joy!
You see, from above Bozya prompted me: "You have to do just that. Take a pencil or pen and spoil his album". And I started to spoil. Then I said: "All geese and cows graze not anymore, and the earth to handle, too - it is not mine." And I'll terribly stubborn - that wanted to be someone, something (in school rushed into the lead bully was incredible. How my mother for all the beat! .. And rightly so). And if the finger of the Lord pointed out to me that I should pick up a brush - all life on this end. This, obviously, and had the talent. I'm not sleeping, not eating - painted, wherever he could, and thought, as well prodolzhit.Nu on talent necessary to develop, that is, to learn. Lviv was College of Applied Arts - went there ... It was a hard time, the 50th year. From the first time I was in school and do not get. In the second year I have, thank God, did.
Five years have passed in the school for me under the sign of Shishkin - it was my favorite artist. As we go into the forest with the lads on the sketches, they've always cursing. And all because that way I could not find a better motiv.Taschilsya with the heavy easel kilometer, the second ... If today I go somewhere with my eyes closed vyvezut and say, "John, you paint on - cool," I will not step set foot, but the 10-20 draw landscapes. Apparently, we had a whole life to live, to see the beauty just before the nose: here it is, in front of you, only Learn to see her do something. Thousands of people are looking at the nature of my eyes. Come to the show and say, "Mamtsyu Ridna! Shcho vin namalyuvav? Well That aside nihto navit i do not divivsya." And now everyone is watching. People walk past the hill a thousand times and not notice it, but when I drew this hump, made poetry, scratching their heads, "Well Holy smoke! Near my hut is almost the same, and I'm at it no attention." Beauty - it at every turn, the main thing - to be able to see it. That's why I live in Ukraine, not to stagger the world? I'm always happens, and the best land, which is just as I would like to draw, nowhere.
Upon graduation, I said, "I am" - and decided that I would not do what 11 years of student taught. I learned the basics, this whole alphabet malyarstva, anatomy, painted portraits, even naked body, but I constantly tormented by the thought that it's not mine, I need more. As they say, "hi bude girshe, Abi inshe." There is already the highest category of talent: you are called to create their own world, and I drew his attention to the world around me, to nature. Of course, I painted landscapes and a student, and then, but I was somehow not interested, and then suddenly began to look interested in winter, autumn and spring bare trees. What a beauty! This is the same as the naked model. Each tree has its own anatomy, its pattern. Nature, like girls, warp, weaving, lace bedspreads vyvyazyvayut, and I see it on a sky background. I think: well as on the canvas to convey how? It would seem that a broom daub - and will be a million branches, but it's not - unoriginal.
And then I began to remember, invent ... I know how to thread scurry all his life in them. My father was a weaver, fabric did tsya Lyada Stukalo day i Nich day i Nich ... I know the process inside and out: how to plant hemp as a thread of it do - and so much until you take into the hands of the shirt. .. All this I was a kid. "And what is - I think - now I do not gossip, being an artist with two diplomas?". If I had not taken place, did not find myself, do not know what to do then. I f the technique absolutely niyaky ...
Wizard style defies sophisticated classifications. Belonging to any of their it discards them. Because he has everything: landscapes, portraits, naive, "nude", anything at all ... fabulous grand cycle of abstract works ... It can not be confused with the works of other artists - at least in our galaxy. Plentanizm, in short ... This is - a name that artist jokingly gave to his style. From the words "weave", "plentati": if the picture created from glomeruli fanciful yarns.
Many Ukrainian landscapes were written when I lived in New York from memory. You know, the whole of Ukraine is in my soul, in my head, I just carry it on their shoulders. In New York really drew mainly "the voice of my soul." Moved on to larger formats, new paint, but longing for Ukraine remained. And she went to a series of magical Ukrainian nights. What could be better than the Ukrainian night?
- Living at home, you were not happy because they do not have freedom. While living abroad, were not happy because it was free, but it was not Ukraine. After returning home, you finally feel yourself a happy man?
- I do not know how to define happiness, it seems to me that my happiness - is eternal torment. Bad or nice meal, but they always accompany me, this is the leitmotif of my life and maybe my luck. After all, when I suffer the most in me, something is born. If I am calm and satisfied, I no. Fortunately, I have lived to a time when the house does not want to run. Now, on the contrary - I am pleased to live here.
- A special theme - Marchuk and women. This is such a sensitive issue ... Personal life I never had. Perhaps I am not suited to it, but that does not mean that women do not exist for me. Probably because I have lived all my life and one that scared like women.
- Ivan Stepanovich, finally I want to ask you a question ... God forbid, of course, but if tomorrow you will be a voice: "John, you will not get more into the hands of any brush or pencil. I'll give you an opportunity to draw a picture, the last" - it would be for the painting?
- No, I'm not going to draw - bring into the house of a woman. So will be the last moment of my life, my last picture. Of course, this is a joke, but it has some truth. I will say this: no matter how I lived, no matter how proud of their freedom, but at the last moment I want to try something that had never known. Here is a woman that she is a bed in my lizhko hati. This is me figuratively speaking: to bed ... or open the door, smiled at me, I would look in the beautiful eyes, a pleasant face and get pleasure from it. The woman, in my opinion, should be at least for aesthetics. This, on which you want to watch that wants to listen.
Was four decades from the beginning of creative activity Ivan Marchuk. He divides his creativity into three periods. First - bondage, when he lived in openly hostile "Sovdepii." In fact, they paid dislike each other. Second - 11 years of exile. A time when the artist was in Australia and America. In his own words, renewable energy after dvadtsyatilitnego Soviet press. But never felt it "his". And the third - the period of the Will, when he returned to the new Ukraine. Maybe not very comfortable, but their own.
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