Wines of Crimea 2008

Curator: Alexander Roitburd, a Ukrainian artist known for his bold and expressive style, painted "Wines of Crimea" in 2008. The work is an oil on canvas, capturing a row of wine bottles, each meticulously rendered. Editor: My first thought? A delightful jumble! The textures are so thick you could practically scrape them off with a spoon. There’s almost a comedic quality to it, like a slightly tipsy still life. Curator: Indeed. Roitburd’s work often plays with the concepts of consumer culture, history, and identity in post-Soviet Ukraine. Representing Crimean wines holds complex associations, considering the region's intricate political position. Editor: Right, it is heavier than I originally took it to be! And these aren't fancy wine bottles, are they? They look more like what you'd find on a local shop shelf with those handwritten price tags on them. Kind of everyday beauty elevated, you know? Curator: Precisely. It is realism meeting modernism, and an echo of a specific moment. Roitburd’s loose brushwork might belie the care that’s been put in selecting recognizable wines and brands, evoking that very place and period. Editor: The color palette is quite subdued, a slightly faded glory to everything. Yet, the roughness in his application gives it a wonderful dynamism, wouldn’t you agree? There’s something quietly rebellious here! Curator: It's a study in how everyday objects, presented within a painterly frame, can engage in political discourse. Roitburd prompts us to think critically about our own consumption habits and the stories they tell. Editor: Thinking about it, Roitburd takes something so rooted in its context, like Crimean wine, and offers it to the rest of the world to consume visually. Clever, really, and quite bittersweet, given the later political shifts in the region. Curator: Precisely. The artist's gesture invites further conversations around contested ownership and the cultural implications that extend beyond art galleries and into real-world politics. Editor: It began simply as wine bottles for me, but I can see it differently now: something very specific memorialized in paint and texture. So much can hide beneath thick impasto, who knew?