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20 years

Nebographics

Maxim Ksuta
February 4 — February 26, 2012
Triumph Gallery
Triumph Gallery presents personal exhibition of Maxim Ksuta "Nebographics"
Losing one’s way in one’s own city is practically impossible: it takes a Benjamin-like flâneur's skill to stray from the familiar routes. Wandering, wandering aimlessly, is a task hardly feasible for the modern city dweller; a solitary stroll is more a literary attribute, the faithful companion of romantics and melancholics than of those rushing about on urgent matters.

Skygraphics. June 13, 2011
2011
Leica, digital print, matte paper
100 x 100 cm

Skygraphics. June 13, 2011
2011
Leica, digital print, matte paper
100 x 100 cm
Losing one’s way in one’s own city is practically impossible: it takes a Benjamin-like flâneur's skill to stray from the familiar routes. Wandering, wandering aimlessly, is a task hardly feasible for the modern city dweller; a solitary stroll is more a literary attribute, the faithful companion of romantics and melancholics than of those rushing about on urgent matters.
And just when Benjamin begins to formulate an imaginary map of the city, a fantastical topography, Maxim Ksuta turns his gaze upward, and his routes take on a different plane, where the city sky is lined with electrical wires, transforming into a graphic surface. Bustling reality seems to recede, the space is purified to an almost sterile state—before us are "sheets" reminiscent of works by American minimalists, from Agnès Martin to Fred Sandback, or the de-energized, suspended-in-air compositions of Russian constructivists.
And just when Benjamin begins to formulate an imaginary map of the city, a fantastical topography, Maxim Ksuta turns his gaze upward, and his routes take on a different plane, where the city sky is lined with electrical wires, transforming into a graphic surface. Bustling reality seems to recede, the space is purified to an almost sterile state—before us are "sheets" reminiscent of works by American minimalists, from Agnès Martin to Fred Sandback, or the de-energized, suspended-in-air compositions of Russian constructivists.
The comparison with minimalism is far from accidental here. Ksuta’s works exist in a series, essentially the same motif subject to endless natural variation—the artist deliberately economizes on artistic resources, simultaneously enhancing the effect of recognizing more than just concrete electrical wires in abstract lines and spirals. It is precisely this seriality that engenders a different energy and movement; the alternation of zones of density and rarefaction establishes a certain dynamic; the viewer is guided not by the logic of reality, but by the spatial arrangement of each composition. In a certain sense, Ksuta does not construct a photographic frame; that is, he works not only with the proportions, volumes, and density of real objects, but solves purely artistic problems, as if he were free to delineate the city skyline, apply a line of the desired thickness, and create or break symmetry. Few have allowed themselves such "freedom," reshaping visible reality, including Alexander Rodchenko and László Moholy-Nagy, who transformed photography into a fully-fledged artistic medium, opening up as many possibilities for the artist’s imagination as traditional painting and graphics.
The comparison with minimalism is far from accidental here. Ksuta’s works exist in a series, essentially the same motif subject to endless natural variation—the artist deliberately economizes on artistic resources, simultaneously enhancing the effect of recognizing more than just concrete electrical wires in abstract lines and spirals. It is precisely this seriality that engenders a different energy and movement; the alternation of zones of density and rarefaction establishes a certain dynamic; the viewer is guided not by the logic of reality, but by the spatial arrangement of each composition. In a certain sense, Ksuta does not construct a photographic frame; that is, he works not only with the proportions, volumes, and density of real objects, but solves purely artistic problems, as if he were free to delineate the city skyline, apply a line of the desired thickness, and create or break symmetry. Few have allowed themselves such "freedom," reshaping visible reality, including Alexander Rodchenko and László Moholy-Nagy, who transformed photography into a fully-fledged artistic medium, opening up as many possibilities for the artist’s imagination as traditional painting and graphics.
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