Exlibris of Andriy Henadiev 1977

Editor: We’re looking at Oleksandr Aksinin's "Exlibris of Andriy Henadiev" from 1977, created with etching and ink. It's a tiny world teeming with figures; at first glance, it appears meticulously ordered but hints at something chaotic beneath the surface. It's fascinatingly strange. What do you see in this piece? Curator: Well, darling, I see a tiny, teeming universe bottled up like a secret, or maybe a pressure cooker! It reminds me of Escher, that mesmerizing sense of infinite perspective within such a contained space. The precision of the etching gives it this formal, almost architectural feel. Notice how Aksinin divides the composition, these arched partitions? Do they represent something to you? Editor: They almost feel like stage curtains, sectioning off different acts of some bizarre performance. And all the figures - are they ants? Or some kind of frantic humanoids? Curator: I think Aksinin is using those figures to talk about humanity as a collective, don't you think? See how they're all oriented toward the center, seemingly working towards a similar objective... a critique on industry, perhaps? Then, you consider the "Exlibris," meaning "from the books of"... whose books, and what secrets might they hold? Does it make you question the story Aksinin tries to convey with them? Editor: That adds another layer, that the image itself signifies ownership. And these aren’t passive figures; they're swarming, building…or dismantling? It’s really striking how he created this sense of depth using solely line and density within a circular form. Curator: Exactly! The whole piece pulses with controlled energy. You’ve observed incredibly well. What a clever little microcosm, holding so many interpretations. I might need a lie down! Editor: This makes me want to dive deeper into Aksinin's work – and perhaps question all those unspoken assumptions I carry when viewing art!