We are living at a time that life seems surreal, and I ask myself if I’m imaging this. For the first three months of the pandemic, I sheltered in place at home. Seemingly overnight, the entire fabric of my daily life had been turned upside down. And yet—between trying to order groceries online, keeping up with the news, and by refreshing the New York Times homepage, it was important that I kept myself optimistic, energized, and entertained (and, perhaps, a little distracted).
Staying occupied during the pandemic
That didn’t work out too well. After a few days I was bored, so I bought a 500-piece puzzle and watched a lot of TV. I couldn’t focus enough to read or work from my computer. Then I got to thinking…no one is at my art studio in Bushwick, so I don’t think it would hurt if I drove there, parked my car inside, and started to create again, and that’s exactly what I did. I immediately had more energy, and started to feel alive again.
My new sculpture, Eyes Open
My eyes were open once again, but now I saw things I’d never seen before. A pandemic worldwide, looting and breaking windows, violence against protestors, violence against the police, and the threat of American Democracy from a corrupt president and his followers from the far right, white supremacists, and the unthinkable now corrupt Republican Senate.
In Venice placing finishing touches on my monumental sculpture, Survival of Serena
Art is me, and I am art. I get physically sick when I don’t work. Bringing people together, inspiring, soothing and sharing: these are the powers of art, the importance of which has been made emphatically obvious during the Covid-19 pandemic.
A video interview in London during my solo exhibition at BelAir Fine Art
In January, I had a lot of deadlines, scheduled shows, and no time. Now I have time and no shows. How does an artist keep going when the gallery system that supports her seems on the verge of temporary collapse? Every curator, gallery director, and member of the art world seems to be home. I think the only benefit of this is that it’s time for a reset, a reprieve of the expectations that the art market puts on artists to produce, and to have and to share everything we make. I’m fine making work in my own bubble because I make art for myself, regardless of whether I show it or not.
Art Miami, 2019
The organized art world has responded beautifully to the lock-down and social-distancing protocols that are keeping people away from physical spaces. Art fairs like Art Basel and Art Dubai have gone online, and numerous galleries all over the world have responded to this new reality with online viewing rooms. The pandemic has closed museums and cancelled concerts, plunging many cultural institutions into uncertainty and immediate financial loss while also threatening a long-term effect on the arts.
At the Met, Pandemic Era
Ticket sales at museums account for a smaller percentage of total income than they do at opera houses or dance companies, yet already the carnage is mounting. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, with a princely endowment of $3.6 billion, has a projected loss of $100 million; institutions with smaller reserves are drawing down fast, and may never reopen. In a matter of days, the world of contemporary art went from a reverberate global network to a ghost town, sheltering in place as the coronavirus endangered our cities and our livelihoods. Like every other sector, art is having to go digital.
Video conferencing is the new norm
For artists, the show must go on, and Zoom is their venue.
What is essential? The coronavirus-related lockdowns forced everyone to
reconsider priorities and look within. Amid the uncertainty, the primary
role of culture has proved to be the maintenance of social cohesion and
individual well-being. While some critics lamented loss of access to
cultural institutions
and public events, others focused on renewed appreciation for the arts
online. What would quarantine be like without television, literature,
music, or other art forms? The options are too dire to consider!
Creative communities in Germany demanded emergency relief funding and
the artists in Spain went on digital strike. Yet, a survey in Singapore
found that 71% of respondents considered “artist” the most non-essential
occupation during the pandemic. Meanwhile, the Getty Museum Challenge
went viral with people recreating famous artworks in fun ways. This
highlighted new opportunities for engagement with cultural heritage.
Recently another Baroque masterpiece got destroyed during a botched
restoration effort
and people have called for renewal of our collective vows to protect
the art for future generations. This is a moment to reflect on the push
and pull between tech-driven art consumption and interest in art
preservation. How do we balance our evolutionary desire for the new with
the need for the security of the familiar? I sat down with Sergey
Konstantinov,
a Ukrainian-American artist based in San Francisco. He is an expert in
restoration and conservation of paintings, murals and decorative arts;
and a painter and sculptor with many original exhibited works. A unique
perspective for the unprecedented times in the arts.
How do you see the art world changing during and after the pandemic?
That is quite a philosophical question. Why?! Do you think it would change the human being?
I consider this an interesting time to be alive. The difference between
now and then is actually about having more time to look deeper. A wall
or canvas are both just surfaces. What is important is your message and
energy, the purpose of a coming piece. For artists, I believe you are
ahead as long as you are honing your skills. Once you’ve decided to move
no further, only then you lose. What do you make of the recent tidal wave of art appreciation online?
These viral campaigns are a successful way to elevate art education.
It is no easy task to connect with the work of art, to capture its
essence, to express it in your own way. The Dutch museums did their
“challenge”, the Russians too. All countries have unique cultural
heritage worth preserving. The process of the creative search itself is meaningful. In this case it does not matter if it is on canvas or on TikTok. How has your creative path prepared you for these turbulent times?
I lived through the end of the Soviet Union. That was turbulent, too. I am from Ukraine, a small warm-memories town called Zhmerinka.
It made my cultural DNA: friends, school, sports, the very beginning of
my interest in art. Exploring Ukrainian folk art helped me to
understand the true wealth of a nation. After studies, I moved to Baku
but in the 1990’s there was armed conflict between Armenia and
Azerbaijan. I had to ask for refugee status in America. Now, for almost
30 years, my family, studio, and the work of my life is here. My life is
a creative process itself. It is where I get my inspiration, awareness
of good or bad, too much or too little, alive or dead. When you go
through such moments in history, you learn to never take anything for
granted. What's your first art memory and how did it impact you?
Well, there was not one thing. Maybe the beautiful icons at
my grandmother’s house. They were illegal back then. The art class in my
hometown where I tried to copy some famous artists. The first time I
heard Swan Lake by Peter Tchaikovsky. I also cannot deny the
impact of nature we are surrounded by. It has inimitable shades, color
contrasts, mysteries of the universe. We breathe it all in deeply trying
to find answers. I have always been confident of my own path. What is the difference between conservation and restoration?
“First, do no harm” is a great principle in medicine and restoration
of cultural heritage. I have been restoring art for a long time. I
studied art history and art technologies from different eras. When it
comes to restoration you need to fully understand the creators,
their state of mind and intentions. The collectors like to say art is
forever, we are just art’s temporary guardians. Conservation is also a
technical challenge with its own long difficult history. Certain
chemical solutions that were used in the past are banned now. What inspired you to pursue original works?
You cannot force yourself into art, it begins within you. I leave a
piece of myself on the canvas which is the only way to work. In life we
are searching for explanations, finding nuances, changing our
perspectives. That is the source of creation. There are no failures in
the artistic path. Even an unsatisfactory result is your experience. I
could not help the overwhelming desire in such moments. It was a
painting giving me the reason to create and not vice versa. Any advice for emerging artists trying to succeed within or outside the gallery system?
In my last year at the Lviv Academy of Art a professor told me: “Move to
your own purpose, the money comes anyway.” If you want to be someone,
just start now. Otherwise, you will have no time to make it right.
Stephan Rabimov Contributor Style & Beauty
I write about emerging markets, fashion, arts, and culture.
Art studio designing and producing classical and contemporary murals,
restoration & conservation decorative arts, painting &
sculpture. Fine art gallery.
