Asya Lukin - Direct Glance

Asya LukinIn Full Voice Asya Lukin has been painting since she remembers herself, even, she says, “before I couldspeak.” At a young age, she was sent to study art at a school near St. Petersburg's StieglitzAcademy. Although she excelled in her studies, she was particularly drawn to avant-gardepainting. She studied in the studio of Solomon Rossin, a key figure in an unofficial Soviet artmovement from the 1960s, whose work often explored themes related to human fate. "Rossinwould take us out to paint the homeless and alcoholics in the streets, as well as in hospitals andmental institutions," she recalls. "For me, he was the catalyst for significant change." Anothermajor influence during those years was the artists of Arefyev's Circle, who rebelled against theconventional Soviet painting to reveal the stark realities of life in the Soviet Union. This circleincluded Sasha Okun, whom she had known since childhood. He taught her about theindependent life of lines and brushstrokes and that every touch of brush on canvas is astatement. Lukin immigrated to Israel in 1990, and their paths crossed again when Okunbecame an influential teacher during her studies at Bezalel. Another remarkable teacher wasDedi Ben Shaul, who taught her to approach painting as a form of music that consists of rhythmand melody.***I met Lukin in the winter of 2017 while working on the exhibition The New Barbizon: Back toLife, which I curated at The Mishkan Museum of Art, Ein Harod. Lukin was part of a close-knitgroup of five Israeli female artists, all born in the Soviet Union, who frequently ventured outsidethe studio to paint in the spirit of the "en plein air" tradition. This approach allowed them tocelebrate 'The freehand painting' while bridging the artistic traditions they had studied withcontemporary art and connecting European-Russian culture with everyday Israeli reality.***Lukin's painting suggests its own introspection and freedom. It is taken from life, forcing viewersto abandon their judgments about right or wrong, love or hate, and acceptance or rejection. This painting evokes trust more than empathy – faith in art, the artist, humanity, and life. Rather thanmerely observing her subjects, she aims to feel their emotions, identify with them, and immerseherself in their experiences. Her perspective is unbiased and unapologetic; she neither tries toplacate nor seeks approval. The exhibition 'Naked Soul: Chaim Soutine and Israeli Art', which Icurated in 2019, explored the raw essence of Soutine's artistic spirit. The title evokes thevulnerability of the human soul – like an unclothed body, exposed, anxious and fragile,perpetually balanced on the edge of a precipice. Much like Soutine, Lukin’s paintings convey asense of helplessness while capturing life's vitality and a powerful attachment to it.***Lukin's 'Hospital series' was created over the past four years, during which she spentconsiderable time in hospitals, primarily Ichilov in Tel Aviv and Hadassah in Jerusalem. Thisexperience of powerlessness ignited a profound sense of empathy and identification with thesubjects of her paintings. She learned to show compassion for those around her as she did forherself. Her helplessness and feeling that time was standing still was channeled into drawingsand sketches on paper that evolved into small, intense paintings. These works depict scenesfrom waiting rooms and corridors, capturing intimate encounters between individuals andmoments of personal introspection. Lukin highlights the raw human experience, revealing life'sfragility, suffering, and finitude. Her paintings feature somber colors and blend oil paints, ink,pastels, and acrylics, evoking a palpable sense of vulnerability and transience.***Lukin's works clearly emphasize narrative and a desire to use it to express a humanist andemotional charge: empathy, tragedy, humor, sadness, and joy. Observations of externalappearances are turned inwards with the attention placed on the human figure and the attemptto peel away layers of consciousness and self-awareness. In a conversation with Liza Rozovskythree years ago, she noted, "When you paint people in a café, on the street, or even whenthey're sitting for a portrait, they often wear a mask. They tend to be very protected. There, in ahospital setting, people are completely exposed."***Lukin, also a stop-motion animation filmmaker, likens her artistic thinking to documentaryfilmmaking, allowing us to consider each work in the current project as a film scene. The worksin the exhibition are arranged accordingly, as a sequence in which one thing follows from another, establishing connections between what came before and what comes after. Theatmosphere in the exhibition space unites into a cohesive narrative.'Direct Glance' is Lukin's first solo exhibition in several years. "It's not that I don't wantexhibitions," she explained to Rozovsky, "but when you speak in your voice – your full voice – itfeels somehow more significant than an exhibition." Lukin's full voice focuses on her priorities,where art is a valuable entity independent of external pressures such as market forces,recognition, and financial stability. At its best, art reflects a genuine voice – whole and precise.When it reaches this level of expression, everything else tends to fall into place. Yaniv Shapirawinter 2024