November 1980

Editor: Here we have Oleksandr Aksinin's "November," created in 1980, using ink, graphite, and pencil on paper. The intricacy is astonishing; it feels almost like peering into a surreal clockwork dream. What’s your take on this piece? Curator: A dream is right. I see in this dense composition a yearning for something beyond the iron curtain—perhaps even a longing for space travel, a very trendy idea at the time. Don’t you think that central structure seems oddly… celestial, yet industrial? Aksinin’s use of such precise lines within this fantasy scape feels loaded with symbolism to me. Editor: It’s interesting that you mention space travel. The geometric elements do lend themselves to that kind of interpretation. So, would you say that the bordering faces might then be a sort of collective consciousness, trapped? Curator: Trapped, or perhaps watching, judging. Aksinin's work often grapples with societal constraints, the gaze of the state, wouldn’t you agree? But is there also hope here? What about that spiky little plant below—a tiny defiant gesture? Editor: I hadn’t noticed it before. A burst of life, almost daring to push back against all the machinery and faces. Is it the month "November", perhaps suggesting hope springs even from Autumn’s decay? Curator: Absolutely! It's a spark! A perfect visual metaphor, given that the Soviet system tried to grind down individuality and yet… art like this still flowered. I think now I shall go looking for my own little plant! Editor: A perfect ending! Thanks so much. It’s incredible how much more a different lens brings.