Self-portrait with wife and daughter 1911

Filipp Malyavin made this large painting of himself with his wife and daughter with oil on canvas. The first thing I notice is the sheer energy in the mark making, the thick, impasto paint, and how the figures seem to emerge from the swirling brushstrokes like a dream. It’s like Malyavin wasn’t just painting a portrait, he was wrestling with the very act of seeing and recording. Look at how the figures' dresses dissolve into abstract daubs of colour. The textures are so rich, you can almost feel the weight of the paint. It reminds me a little of Klimt, but with a rawer, more visceral edge. The way the figures are almost swallowed up by the background, it speaks to the push and pull between the individual and the world around them. Are they dominating or are they being dominated? I can’t help but feel that Malyavin is suggesting that art isn’t about capturing reality, but about creating it, one brushstroke at a time.