Composition 1982

Editor: So this piece, titled "Composition," created in 1982 by Hryhorii Havrylenko, is a drawing made with colored pencil and pastel on paper. There's almost a textile-like quality to it with all of the patterns. How do you interpret this work? Curator: The visual field of "Composition" vibrates with what appears to be the residue of memory. These seemingly random shapes echo forms we inherently recognize. Don't you see echoes of cellular structures, microscopic organisms, or even figures from a dreamscape? Havrylenko is dredging up something ancient within us. Editor: Cellular structures, I see what you mean, but could you elaborate on what feels ancient? Curator: Look at how the pastel hues mimic organic dyes, those employed for centuries to adorn ritual objects and textiles. Consider also how patterns themselves possess a deeply ingrained human history. They function almost as a visual language before the written word, a means to transmit complex narratives. The pink orb hovering near the top calls to mind not just the sun or moon, but also the “seed” of creation present in many cosmologies. Editor: I hadn't considered the connection to ancient visual language, that's fascinating. Curator: What happens if we let go of the need to decipher its explicit narrative? What emerges then? Editor: A feeling, maybe? Like something familiar, but just out of reach. I feel like it invites a more personal interpretation. Curator: Precisely! Havrylenko, through his calculated abstraction, taps into the collective unconscious. We project our personal experiences onto these forms, creating a unique dialogue with the work. Each viewer resurrecting different shared memories embedded deep in time and culture. Editor: I see that now. It is more than just the use of organic patterns and color, but also an invitation to actively participate in constructing meaning from shared visual history. It's not about finding a concrete answer, but opening oneself up to visual memory and shared culture.