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BLACKOUT

Valentin Tkach
June 6 — June 14, 2012
Triumph gallery
LAUNCHPAD PROJECT

As part of Triumph Gallery’s Launchpad project, which showcases emerging artists, four exhibitions will be held in June. From June 5th to 14th, works by Valentin Tkach and Alexey Vasiliev will be on display on the gallery’s upper and lower floors. Curator Vladimir Potapov.
Running on the Edge of the Platform.

American journalists and photojournalists are increasingly interested in Detroit, once the capital of US automobile manufacturing, now a city with high crime and unemployment rates. Since the late 1970s, Detroit has slowly but surely lost its position, and by the second decade of the 21st century, it has become a city known for its voids and gaps in the urban fabric. Abandoned factories and institutions, schools and shops have become ideal subjects for outside observers, inspiring skeptics to coin the derisive term "ruin porn." This term describes both the product churned out by dozens and hundreds of photographers and the audience greedy for post-apocalyptic imagery. Guides, akin to stalkers, have even appeared in the city, willing to lead interested parties along the most arousing routes for a modest fee.
Lesson
2011
Oil and acrylic on canvas
105 × 90 cm
Lesson
2011
Oil and acrylic on canvas
105 × 90 cm
Running on the Edge of the Platform.

American journalists and photojournalists are increasingly interested in Detroit, once the capital of US automobile manufacturing, now a city with high crime and unemployment rates. Since the late 1970s, Detroit has slowly but surely lost its position, and by the second decade of the 21st century, it has become a city known for its voids and gaps in the urban fabric. Abandoned factories and institutions, schools and shops have become ideal subjects for outside observers, inspiring skeptics to coin the derisive term "ruin porn." This term describes both the product churned out by dozens and hundreds of photographers and the audience greedy for post-apocalyptic imagery. Guides, akin to stalkers, have even appeared in the city, willing to lead interested parties along the most arousing routes for a modest fee.
Pripyat, located in Belarus, is a post-Soviet equivalent of Detroit. It is a terrifying and evocative monument to the Chernobyl disaster, a Soviet Pompeii. Here, the hastily abandoned everyday life testifies to how technology, uncontrolled by its creators, transforms populated areas into lifeless shells. A cursory glance at Valentin Tkach’s paintings evokes associations with both the urban landscapes of Detroit and the abandoned corridors of schools, hospitals, and high-rise buildings in Pripyat.
Pripyat, located in Belarus, is a post-Soviet equivalent of Detroit. It is a terrifying and evocative monument to the Chernobyl disaster, a Soviet Pompeii. Here, the hastily abandoned everyday life testifies to how technology, uncontrolled by its creators, transforms populated areas into lifeless shells. A cursory glance at Valentin Tkach’s paintings evokes associations with both the urban landscapes of Detroit and the abandoned corridors of schools, hospitals, and high-rise buildings in Pripyat.
Color achieves its most subtle and elusive effect when it intervenes in the static nature of a photographic image transferred to canvas. In one painting, a pioneer tends a plant with enormous leaves. This is a clear, emphatic quotation, based on a found photograph from the 1950s. The tie is tinged with red, the paint used here as a retouch. And the greenish plant sprouts bright blue in places, almost transforming from flora into a sharp blade, establishing yet another diagonal in the composition. A picture from a family album, intended to evoke the past, finds itself in a situation of new physics, biology, and politics. The clash of two timelines suggests that the subjects of these old photographs are trapped in an era that cannot be returned, and imitating it is pointless. These people are the antithesis of the average 21st-century Russian. Tkach uses the debris of their world to create a dystopian work about a country suspended between shabby hospital corridors and bright supermarket shelves.

Curator: Vladimir Potapov
Color achieves its most subtle and elusive effect when it intervenes in the static nature of a photographic image transferred to canvas. In one painting, a pioneer tends a plant with enormous leaves. This is a clear, emphatic quotation, based on a found photograph from the 1950s. The tie is tinged with red, the paint used here as a retouch. And the greenish plant sprouts bright blue in places, almost transforming from flora into a sharp blade, establishing yet another diagonal in the composition. A picture from a family album, intended to evoke the past, finds itself in a situation of new physics, biology, and politics. The clash of two timelines suggests that the subjects of these old photographs are trapped in an era that cannot be returned, and imitating it is pointless. These people are the antithesis of the average 21st-century Russian. Tkach uses the debris of their world to create a dystopian work about a country suspended between shabby hospital corridors and bright supermarket shelves.

Curator: Vladimir Potapov
Made on
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