Biography
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My early years
Though curiosity strikes at all youthful minds, I would say that mine was more impressed upon introspectively. My idle hours were not spent lazily, but rather whittled away by a consumption of the mind. I was always hungry for knowledge, prone to high-mindedness, and subjecting myself to long stays of reading.
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Philosophy was of particular interest to me, offering a means of comprehension to boundaries that as yet I could not delineate. What limit to consciousness? Of experience? What can be achieved within the span of a life? These issues were initiated early and encouraged by a mother who had a zealous appetite for achievement and they are still a preoccupation.
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It was my mother’s determination that saw me at three educational houses rather than one. I had passed merit tests in both music and art and was invited to attend classes in both as a supplement to my established curriculum. Though my preference was for painting and art, my mother was resolved that I would attend the music school.
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Measuring her conviction as being insuperable, I recognised that a concession was required of me. I balked at the thought of abandoning painting so proposed to her the prospect of taking on both disciplines. To my great surprise my mother agreed to this - agreed, that is, with the proviso that were things to prove too much, art would fall casualty to music. With that understanding and the consent of the schools, I began what proved to be an overwhelming few years.
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Through years of study my determination grew stronger; I wanted to be a painter. By contrasting my ability in both art-forms it became increasingly clear that my force of expression was suited more to the canvas than it was to the keyboard. Were I to enter the conservatorium, as a means of continuing my studies, I would want to do so as an artist; of that I then had no doubt. I again had to confront my mother on the issue, but on that second occasion my will prevailed.
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The irony of the situation is that when I finally left the conservatorium as a graduate of art, my first engagement of work was as a teacher at the music school; the one that I had attended all those years earlier.
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Beginnings
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By the year 1981 our family had left Russia and relocated to Norway, establishing ourselves in Oslo. I soon found myself married, and soon after that expectant of a daughter. These entanglements were a welcome and happy complication and filled me with such wealth of happiness that letting my other prospects diminish felt a right and true consequence. Only in time, and with fortuitous circumstance, would I enter back full-fledged into the life of a painter.
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The opportunity arose by way of a privileged meeting that had been set up between myself and the Oslo-based painter, Odd Nerdrum. He had requested a viewing of my paintings, and on seeing them, invited me to ´attend´ his studio; a proposal that would commit me for some months. I had little need to deliberate on the matter as I was eager to recommit myself. I accepted the offer and was in attendance the following day.
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These were interesting months for me, nigh on two years in fact, sufficient time to reacquaint myself with the rigours and discipline of the art form. As I developed my skills and a desire to create my own body of work, I grew estranged from the environment and dissociated from the day-to-day life of the studio; it became a distraction; if I was to progress as an artist in my own right, I had to develop alone and rid myself of distraction. I set up studio, and commenced.
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On painting
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People say that my paintings are both simple and complex, and they are right to say so. By the very definition of ´simplicity´ one is attempting to uncomplicate the complicated. When one examines the ´simple´ with scrutiny, complexities always reveal themselves. This is the very law of simplicity. The ambiguity of this natural law is a huge attraction to me, and something I seek out in much of my subject matter; it is the focal point of my work.
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I rely very much on physiognomy and human form, rather than the inanimate object. The intricacies of our existence are an unavoidable part of us; we cannot escape them and I cannot help but be fascinated by the unique story told in every human life. For me a face is a boundless resource and a summation of the story of one's life; I am compelled to interpret that story.
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I see myself as part of the humanist movement - defined by realism and neoclassicism - yet I am tempted to simplify the association by saying simply that I am human-oriented. Humanity is timeless; we see paintings from past centuries and still recognise in the people much of ourselves. It is as if time is an aberration of culture rather than a partition of ages.
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By maintaining the tenors of classicism we attach ourselves directly to that heritage, and extend it laterally in a way that enhances both the new and the old. Being bound by that common thread is a component to my painting that I cannot envisage losing.
Regarding my development as an artist, I subscribe to the thoughts of Picasso: "I am not developing as an artist at all, I just am." As an artist I focus on what I want to paint, with little responsibility beyond that. As long as one paints, one develops.