High water 2016

Editor: Here we have Andrey Remnev's "High Water," painted in 2016 using oil paints. There’s a figure resting her head on a stack of pillows and… I’m immediately struck by this very dreamlike, almost gilded quality. The whole scene seems suspended in a state of calm. What’s your take? Curator: It does feel like a reverie, doesn't it? To me, it whispers of Klimt, of those symbolist echoes… Look at the way Remnev plays with surface—the textured, almost liquid gold of the fabric juxtaposed with the stark black birds, those messengers from another realm. And the irises… they often signify hope and faith. Do you see how the high water might not be a threat here, but a transformative embrace? Editor: That’s interesting – I was thinking more along the lines of being overwhelmed, given the title. But hope... the irises make sense for that. And the birds? They're like blots, stark against all that shimmer. Curator: Exactly! Perhaps a visual reminder that even in dreams, or times of overwhelming emotion, shadows exist. They are contrasts, or perhaps guides. This feels intensely personal to Remnev – an inner landscape made visible. Have you considered the almost flattened perspective, as if space itself is collapsing? Editor: Almost like a tapestry! I’m also drawn to her closed eyes. She seems completely lost in her own world. Curator: Yes, utterly internal. And the absence of strong light source blurs our sense of depth and perception, adding to the mystery. It’s as if Remnev is asking us to contemplate our own thresholds between reality and the imagined. What’s most interesting now? Editor: I think I'm seeing the scene differently. What looked calm, at first, now has a sort of…active tranquility? It’s really compelling, the more you unpack it. Curator: Isn’t it marvelous when a painting holds a mirror to our own shifting perspectives? That’s the real high water, I think: the tide of feeling and meaning washing over us.