Curatorial notes
Davyd Chychkan made Mariya, and, well, it's something else, isn't it? There’s a real rawness to the way the image is built up, a feeling that we're seeing something unfiltered. The material presence of the piece is striking, isn't it? The red is so present, so visceral, it’s almost like you can feel the weight of it on the page. Look at the way it pools and spreads, creating these jagged, almost violent shapes around the figures. There’s something immediate and gut-level about it. That central figure though, is so calm, so still. Is this their story? Whose story is it? And what is the weight of history being held by the subject? I see echoes of artists like Otto Dix in Chychkan’s work, that unflinching gaze into the abyss of human experience. Like Dix, Chychkan isn't afraid to confront the uncomfortable truths about violence and suffering. It's a conversation across time, a reminder that art can be a mirror reflecting back the darkest parts of ourselves.
