Trees 1975

Editor: So, this is Hryhorii Havrylenko's "Trees," painted in 1975. It’s an oil painting, currently housed here at the National Art Museum of Ukraine. It strikes me as deceptively simple, almost childlike in its depiction of the landscape. What do you see in this piece, beyond the immediate representation? Curator: Beyond? I love that. It reminds me of something my grandmother once told me about picking apples – the best ones are often hidden just out of plain sight. For me, it’s not just trees; it’s about finding the hidden architecture within the ordinary. Notice how he uses impasto. Feels almost impatient. It’s as though he's coaxing the land from some memory. Does the heavy paint application evoke any feelings or questions for you? Editor: I hadn’t noticed that about the impasto – it does add a sense of urgency or maybe... tactile exploration? The chunkiness of the paint wants me to touch it! Were landscapes a common theme during this period, or was Havrylenko perhaps using the landscape to express something more personal? Curator: Oh, certainly! Landscapes were everywhere, but each artist used them differently. Consider this: during that period in Ukraine, representing nature could sometimes be a safer way of talking about other things. This could be about feeling rooted, yearning, reflecting. What elements in the composition might signal something beyond the purely visual? Editor: The colour palette feels very contained, different shades of green and glimpses of muted blue... perhaps a sense of isolation? The eye can't wander too far, because the image itself is very self-contained... Curator: Yes, “self-contained,” love that! It whispers of resilience. So the canvas transforms. The oil paint then isn’t just green and blue; it is coded hope, isn’t it? Or maybe… simply remembering home? What do you think? Editor: This makes me think about landscape in a totally new way now! It is more than just a painting of some trees... it's a silent expression. Curator: Precisely. It is amazing to see art through fresh eyes every time! There's always more than initially meets the eye, isn't there?