Capri 1935

Editor: So, this is "Capri," an oil on canvas by Konstantin Gorbatov from 1935. The brushstrokes are so light and airy; it almost feels unfinished. I’m curious, what stands out to you about this particular piece? Curator: I immediately notice the layering of the paint. The visible brushstrokes weren't just to capture light, they are a record of the artist's physical engagement with the materials, building the image bit by bit. The social context here is fascinating – Gorbatov painted this while in exile. He lost his possessions and his country because the Bolshevik regime repressed his work. Considering this painting, I think how interesting it is that Gorbatov focused not on what he lost, but chose instead to render in oils an optimistic vacation destination. Editor: Exile as a constraint…I hadn't thought of it that way. So, the limitations of his lived experience may be expressed through an amplified vision? Curator: Exactly. Look at how the textures are built, how each dab of color represents a conscious choice about the scene being portrayed. Notice, too, how this island idyll appears more real because you, as viewer, become more aware of its material construction and, as such, aware of the materiality that he chose not to reflect regarding his personal traumas. How does his material process shift your perception of the scene? Editor: Now that you mention it, focusing on the texture makes the overall image feel less like a fantasy and more like something he experienced or perhaps desired in a way he could access more readily than his homeland. I see the materiality transforming fantasy into possible lived experience. Curator: Precisely. I learned a new way of seeing the role of exile here and the transformation of desire using available, if somewhat restrictive, material. Editor: Agreed. I'll never look at vacation paintings the same way. Thanks!