“A sculptor should fecundate nature with his temperament”
These words by Hryhorii Kruk are the most important lecture for his student Cristina Katchaluba
Last week the Lviv Picture Gallery launched an exhibit of the famous Swiss artist and sculptor of Ukrainian origin Cristina KYSHAKEVYCH-KATCHALUBA.
Cristina was born in Argentina. She studied in the US and Germany. Later she defended a doctor’s paper on the history of art at the Ukrainian Free University (the subject is “Expressionism of Slavko Krushelnytsky”). She is equally good at painting and sculpture. Critics consider her creative work audacious. They say it is a contact with her suggestive “beyond-the-norm” energy and synthesis of traditional and modern thinking, archetypes and myths which acquire original semantic interpretations. And Temistocles Virsta, a well-known French artist and architect (who comes from Bukovyna) calls her works sculpture poems of life, in which the author’s experience, beauty and soul quiet are revealed. He writes: “Her works demonstrate the artist’s sensitive approach. She can have a keen insight into the human essence and reveal it, alongside visual likeness.”
The artist’s biography has one more significant fact in it: she studied from one of the world’s most renowned Ukrainian sculptors, Hryhorii Kruk. Meanwhile, Kruk’s portrait she painted and the master’s oeuvre are preserved within the collection of the Ukrainian Library and Archive in London. She gave the copy of the work to the National Museum of Arts in Kyiv.
Since October 30 marked the 100th birth anniversary of Hryhorii Kruk, it is only natural that The Day started the interview with Cristina with her acquaintance with the famous sculptor. All the more so he is scarcely known in Ukraine. Only last year the artist’s oeuvre came for the first time on display within the framework of the Grand Sculpture Salon.
“Once my whole family went from Pittsburg where we resided to Washington,” Cristina Kyshakevych-Katchaluba said, “There I saw an album with Kruk’s works. I remember they touched me deeply. They were very unexpected and original. In a word, they were strong. At that time I had no idea that I would study sculpture. In 1977-79 I took up Ukrainian studies at the Ukrainian Free University in Munich, where Hryhorii was teaching. I immediately signed up to take his course. He is a son of a potter who came from Ukraine (he was born in the village Bratysheve in Prykarpattia). Apparently, he had this in his genes: you could always feel Ukraine in Kruk’s works. He showed it in such a way that a German, Swiss, Italian, and American could understand it. I mean he touched universal topics, giving to them Ukrainian colors.
“Hryhorii was a sad and joyful person at the same time. On the one hand, he liked to joke. Anything could become subject for a joke. On the other hand, you could feel he was deeply suffering. Maybe the reason was that he had to live in emigration. Maybe it was because he failed to create family, though he wanted this. He always said to me: ‘I have no family, but I have bronze.’ However I noticed that he felt sad as Christmas and Easter were approaching. Bronze did not give him warmth. After the holidays he felt better and we could go on working. My teacher kept repeating: ‘A sculptor should look at nature and fecundate it with his temperament.’ And he did possess this temperament. I think those words were the most important lecture for me. As a result, many people consider my works as masculine.”
Is this a compliment?
“I think art can be neither masculine, nor feminine. It can be either strong or not. Views and feelings must be different. For example, Frida Kahlo painted out of patience, because of inability to give birth to children and the disease.”
Has anybody compared your works with Kruk’s?
“Yes. Especially my first works, which is understandable, as at that time he had a strong impact on my creative work. I avoid complicated forms, and this, in my opinion, brings me closer to the teacher’s style. In other words, I am working in the style where the form is easily read, for this reason my works are rather expressionistic.”
Whose idea was to create Kruk’s portrait?
“It was mine. I had to make a project as a part of my studies at the Ukrainian Free University. So I proposed Kruk to create his portrait. ‘You are welcome,’ he said. You should understand that it was not a task, rather my inner desire: the sculptor had a very interesting face: it revealed that he was a great personality.
“I was looking at the almost ready work in clay and said: ‘The lips are to low, I should lift them.’ ‘Don’t touch it,’ Kruk said, ‘It may be not so masterful.’ I did not listen to him. He was very satisfied with the portrait. He cast it in bronze, and even showed at his exhibits. I remember that the ‘premiere’ took place in London. Currently the sculpture together with a part of his oeuvre is stored in the collection of the Ukrainian Library and Archive in London. I presented the copy to the National Museum of Arts in Kyiv.”
You were acquainted with such aces of painting and sculpture as Leonid Molodozhanyn and Temistocles Virsta. What did you learn from that communication?
“Leonid Molodozhanyn frequently came to Munich where he cast the works. Since most of them are big, it was cheaper to bring them from Canada, where he resided, to Germany, and cast in bronze there. I have seen some of Leonid’s works: Taras Shevchenko monument, a monument to a Catholic Saint Padre Pio. Molodozhanyn was an extremely interesting sculptor, especially portraitist. Subsequently, in 1992 the Assiniboine Park in Winnipeg where he resided opened the Garden of Leo Mol’s (his shortened nickname) sculptures with over 300 works. We planned to meet and discuss the monumental works. Unfortunately, we did not have time to do that. On July 4, 2009, he died. Lina Kostenko in The Notes of a Ukrainian Madman rightly says that when great people leave this world we understand that whole planets were nearby. This also refers to the fact that only 20 people came to Hryhorii Kruk’s funeral (and Munich has a large Ukrainian community).
“I can call Temistocles Virsta my friend. Incidentally, it is one more name Ukraine is regaining. He is a very kind man. He can open his heart, give a helpful hand, and open the doors of his house. He is a large-scale personality. I would say he cannot think in small categories. It is very noticeable, in particular, in his pictures. Besides, Virsta with his own example overcomes the stereotype that Ukrainians are not able to consolidate. So, Temistocles, who is over 90, often invites Ukrainian artists to outdoor painting sessions to the French south where he resides. He also helped me to organize exhibits in a bohemian town near Saint-Tropez, and earlier – in Paris. And in the past my mom helped him with expositions in the US. So, God does everything timely. The main thing is to be open to each other.”
You dedicated the exhibit of paintings and sculptures that is operating in Ukraine to the 20th anniversary of Ukraine’s independence. What does this dedication mean to you?
“Independent Ukraine was a sense of life for my parents. They tried to feel my life with this sense, and I did the same to my children. I remember on August 24, 1991, when independence was declared we turned on the hymn, my children made wreaths like on Kupala Day and floated them in the swimming pool, we all were very glad: the dream of many generations of Ukrainians came true! The sculpture Our Strength is in the Cross (previously entitled ‘Help us in our Suffering’) is the core work of the exposition. This is my attempt to emphasize how many efforts should be taken and prayers uttered so that Ukraine became such as it is in our thoughts, dreams, and feelings.”