Canvasrebel

We were lucky to catch up with Olya Dubatova recently and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Olya , thanks for joining us today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.

I grew up in a small town in the South of Russia during the collapse of the Soviet Union. Nothing really in how I grew up prepared me to be a painter, I was born into real poverty. There were simply no career options for ‘artist’ – I couldn’t even imagine that that was a possibility for my life. In those days, everyone was poor and life was chaotic. Somehow painting was the only thing I could do that allowed me to feel in harmony with the world. I knew I had to leave Russia as being an artist was impossible there. It was after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the country was in ruins. I was lucky to be accepted into university in Switzerland and my journey started from there. It was a big risk to leave like this without knowing anyone or anything about how I would do it, but I never regretted my decision to this day. During my twenties I had a studio in Rome near Spanish Steps, I remember I would paint and look at people passing, hearing every language, and felt a strong urge to explore the world. I took a break from painting and for several years made large-scale sound installations and performances, but painting is what I cannot live without. Painting is a way of being.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

I love the challenge of working with paint. Painting is so material for me. I am fascinated by Old Master recipes and have countless books in my library on the subject. One I especially love was given to me by my dear friend called The Craftsman’s Handbook: “Il Libro dell’ Arte” by Cennino Cennini I experimented with a lot of different techniques: for a while, I was obsessed with the texture of my paints and was painting with pigments mixed with tempera grassa on linen, primed with rabbit skin glue – which gives a very particular velvety matte surface. Right now I paint with oil paint as well as I wanted the range of possibilities oil paint gives you. To me, a good painting feels like it enters my body, I feel it with my skin, it’s about the physical feeling. I mostly use natural pigments from Italy and the Caucasus – that is my way to connect with the earth and to ground myself because it’s working with the earth from places I love. It takes much longer to make paint and often I don’t want to mix it but each time I do I get unbelievable satisfaction; it’s very meditative. I use mostly tempera grassa which is a fat tempera – an Italian recipe of tempera which is egg and vinegar and then you add linseed oil, sometimes damar. It’s alchemy and it feels like magic. This kind of texture has many intertwined histories for me.

My sound work came from my interest in spaces and how sound can make one experience the sensation of being ‘home’. One of my favorite projects was called Silent Bell and it was a smaller version of a bigger one that I did with UC Berkeley and Stanford. We did it in South Australia, a gallery that had a huge sinkhole right in front of the entrance and it looked like an inverted bell in the earth, so we installed the speakers inside of the sinkhole and people could go down a spiral stair to be inside the bell. The sounds of bells experienced that way in such a location were so out of place yet felt perfect at the same time. By descending the stairs one could experience different levels of reverberated sound and be in it together with a waterfall that was falling. The silent bell felt to be a collaboration with nature and nature played a bigger part in the experience.

Have you ever had to pivot?

Living between Los Angeles and New York for a long time, I was accustomed to a fast-paced life of endless possibilities. However, there was something missing…. My life had no center, it felt rootless in a way living for work. I felt homesick for the first time in my life, I did not want to go to Russia, so I went to a country that was very close to where I grew up and Georgia was my heaven for a while …I was drawn to the country’s rich culture and ancient landscapes. I felt I needed detox from the world and I have been wanting to live closer to the earth. I moved to the mountains in the Western part of Georgia near Chokhatauri in the Caucasus Mountains. We rented a big house on a hectare of land and set up a studio there for 5 months. The village was nestled in a secluded valley, surrounded by towering mountains and lush forests. It was a place where time seemed to stand still. The villagers lived simple lives, rooted in tradition and community. I spent my days painting and exploring the surrounding mountains and attending 7-hour Georgian supras which is a traditional dinner ceremony in Georgia. The people in Guria were incredibly welcoming, and I learned a lot about their culture….

Until the political situation became too complicated between Georgia and Russia. However, the time I spent in Guria changed me as an artist. I was inspired by the beauty of the landscape and the people I met. I did more work than I ever did. I eventually returned to Mexico, but I still think about Guria often. It is a special place.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

I need to be in a state of love, with what I am doing, with the people that surround me, and with the place I am living. I don’t know where ideas about work come from, why I am interested in something, or why I am drawn to some place or another. Making work is somehow really a way of life for me. I am constantly inspired by the people in my life who are creating magic. I love how it is about exterior and interior at the same time., how cyclical It is – the way I work and live. Painting is somehow both biographic and also so formal too. I feel like I am painting the life around me as a way to see it differently and to be connected to this underlying energy of the world, its rhythm, to really be in harmony with it.

I am a painter who lives between New York, Yucatan (Mexico), and Tbilisi (Georgia). I am drawn to the energy and creativity of these places and find it necessary for my work to be in a state of love with the place I am currently living in. It took me a while to understand it and not fight it. I realized that allows me to be in a heightened state of wonder and awareness of my surroundings. I dislike being asleep and if I stay somewhere for too long. it happens naturally and it takes extra energy to feel “alive”. This lifestyle comes with challenges – not to be in New York full time or another of the world’s art capitals – right now I spend a considerable amount in the jungle of Mexico and rural Georgia.