Vronskaya Iconostas

Review by Georgina Coburn
GEORGINA COBURN admires an outstanding solo show
I THINK THE defining image of this show are three works hung at the far end of Kilmorack Gallery, a triptych of images which although they are separate, hang together to give the viewer a blinding and breathtaking view of Eugenia Vronskaya’s talent and insight.
The first is a large self ‘Portrait in a Red Jacket’ (oil on canvas) that vibrates with electric green brushwork in the background in striking contrast with the central figure. It holds your gaze and draws you in repeatedly, the under-sketch of queenly robes enveloping the figure. It is a stunning portrait, full of tenacity, assurance in its handling of paint, and movingly human in the liquid blue of the artist’s quizzical eyes.

The centrepiece of the exhibition is ‘Iconostas’ a collection of sixty portrait sketches hung together in a way that combines the experience of each person as one piece of work yet captures the character and energy of each individual sitter, many of whom are local artists.

Vronskaya explains: “Identity is a unique combination of common elements. We don’t learn anything new – we just explore the endless combination of the same. We all experience love, death, rejection, loss, spirituality and disappointment in our lives. Each Face speaks its own story; each face says the same thing.” There is a sense of a community being brought together in the same way that the church building they hang in would have functioned as a focal point. These images, too, invite the viewer back to contemplate each face, each element that is part of the whole.

‘Portrait of the Artist as a Man’ (oil on canvas) combines pink flesh with greenish shadow, defining the lithe body of a young man against a pure white background. It is a potent creative statement by a woman at the height of her powers as an artist.

For me it represents a kind of creativity that has nothing to do with gender and defies the normal judgement we would apply to a female nude or to notions of feminine creativity through the body. It is a contradiction which turns the world on its head as great art should.

Despite the strength and assurance of her art, Vronskaya also displays – in work such as ‘Surrender’ – the game of art, a chase that never ends. In this still life a white flag hovers over tubes of paint and the presence of a child’s toy. The artist’s characteristic cool palette of greys and green with accents of red plays with the truth behind all artists’ practice, that you never quite reach the vision and surrender the battle until the next time you pick up a brush.

Vronskaya displays in her still lives unexpected edginess, both beauty and menace. It is hard to imagine anyone else rendering a pile of empty jars beautiful, but she succeeds in doing just that in works such as ‘Yellow Door Jars’ and ‘Winter Jars’. In ‘Cornered’ the cramped overlap of the space against the glistening of glass surfaces makes the pile beautifully claustrophobic.

‘Eternal Couple’, depicting dead pheasants hung against the cool blue of a window, with children’s toys on the window sill, is typical of the juxtaposition of objects which makes the act of seeing the familiar so unsettling. ‘Death Mask and Little People’, with the buzz of green hues and brushstrokes outside seen through the menacing hollow of the mouth and window, are instantly threatening.

‘Window’ also displays these characteristics to great effect. The blur of the world outside in grey and green brushstrokes gives way to an acidic yellow sky with black skeletal trees on the horizon stripped by the dampness of winter. A grey teddy hangs upside down, glass jars perched precariously with a face mask and child’s toys on the window sill.

Even with the traditional safe genre of painting still life, the artist never lets the audience get too comfortable. This is one of her most admirable qualities.

Charcoal drawings displayed in the vestry such as ‘Study III’ and ‘Study I’ are superb examples of the sensitivity wrought by study of the human figure, a foundation for work such as ‘Northern Angel’ and ‘Back and Toes’ (both oils on canvas). These two pieces are also highlights of the exhibition in terms of their depiction of the figure.

‘Northern Angel’ is a beautifully accomplished study of humanity. The figure is subtlety lit, head bowed, shoulders drawn into the frailty of human flesh with only the barest suggestion of wings against the dark back ground.

‘Back and Toes’ would seem unfinished, and yet it has all the visual information we need to complete the picture. In this and in ‘Missing Mum’, Vronskaya manages to achieve what many artists would envy, the freshness, and energy of a sketch with the permanence of painting.

This is an outstanding solo show which should not be missed.

© Georgina Coburn, 2006

Review by John Byrne

Flaubert said “Be quiet and orderly in your life that you may be wild and revolutionary in your art” and in this early part of the 21st century where the artist has become a celebrity and the ’avant garde’ is, for the first time in history, the established order, it is more important than ever, it seems to me, that figurative art (which has nothing to do with the commercial dross that some associate with the term) is the ‘wild and revolutionary’ that Flaubert refers to – the stuff that smacks you in the kisser and gives you a hefty boot up the arse. It’s a popular notion that photography killed off the figurative painter (what it did do was put the kybosh on the salon painter – the camera was a much better liar), a notion seized upon much later by the smart but utterly cack-handed who galloped in and set up shop – they didn’t call themselves the ‘irony-mongers’ but that’s what they traded in: if it looked like crap it was ironic, geddit?
Anyhow, welcome to an irony-free zone – Eugenia Vronskaya, who understands genuine irony better than anyone I can think of, is that rara avis – a figurative painter in a time of cultural cholera who punches above her weight and on occasion (numerously in this current show) socks you in the eye when you don’t see it coming.
She couldn’t be anything but Russian and yet her Scottish/English is very often more eloquent and pointed that those of us who fancy we can turn a phrase in then hybrid lingo of ours. Her pictures need no interpreter – they can speak directly to the viewer, even the tone-deaf. Her canvasses sing from the walls and their song rings true.
And don’t be fooled when you meet her – she’s as tough as old boots. She has to be. In a world where the Celebrity Artist has a retinue of assistants who do the actual work while the boss flies off hither and thither to be fawned over Vronskaya rolls up her sleeves and gets stuck in.
Have a gander at what she’s been getting stuck into over the past months and get goose-pimples.