Painting - protest, that has lost its original meaning.
"Crimson Peak"
50x50
oil
Artem Tikhonkov
It all started with my passion for the great writer Hemingway.
I liked his stories for long time, but I knew very little about his life in general. The more read about stories about the life of this writer, the more I realized that this person is rather extraordinary and dual for me personally. Lover of women and wine, hunting and bullfighting.
This is the last one that really stuck out to me. So unusual that in our civilized time, medieval and cruel fun continues.
Immediately a protest appeared in me, but the deeper I immersed myself in the image of сorrida, the further I moved away from the original essence, and immersed myself in the aesthetic image of this action.
There is in it some kind of ancient beauty and feat, if you look from a poetic point of view, and not from an ethical one. All this inspired me to create my new painting "Crimson Peak".
I would be very happy if you share in the comments your mood that this picture evokes in you.
Other our works will be posted on Hive: @artvik
You are welcome!
Instagram for my paintings: https://www.instagram.com/tikhonkov.art/
I think that many of us see issues in black and white. We leave little room for colour and nuance. I love Hemingway, and I was surprised when a friend of mine, whom I considered a literary soul, told me she didn't read Hemingway and disliked him because of his manly persona as expressed in hunting, bullfighting, drinking, womanizing, etc. I caught her drift, but I personally did not see anything wrong with disliking the person but appreciating his work. There is a reason why he has been so influential, so why throw out the baby with the bath water, sort of speak.
I was exposed to the mystique of bullfighting as a child. We did not question the ethical implications but simply liked to admire the courage of the fighter while secretely rooting for the bull to give him a little poke. I was not in tune back then with the sensual aspects of the 'sport'. That came later. The quivering muscles, the form and dance, poise mixed with fear and courage, the calm cool and deadly lover affair between the fighter and the bull, coming together at the last minute as the sword penetrates flesh. Ole! Ole!
Now that I'm all grown up and civilized, I believe that we should stop torturing the poor creatures, even if it means their numbers will dwindle to nothing. But I can also appreciate the art, the poetry, and tragedy of this affair. I don't enjoy bullfights like I used to as a kid, and this makes me a little sad sometimes. Like the other night, "I lay awake thinking and my mind jumping around. Then I couldn’t keep away from it, and I started to think about Brett and all the rest of it went away. I was thinking about Brett and my mind stopped jumping around and started to go in sort of smooth waves. Then all of a sudden I started to cry. Then after a while it was better and I lay in bed and listened to the heavy trams go by and way down the street, and then I went to sleep." Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises 😉
Thanks @litguru for such an extensive feedback!
I agree that the work of a person, his creative self-expression, should be considered separately from the personal qualities of the creator.
And let this terrifying dance of beauty end in the name of civilization and understanding that all living beings have an equal right to life.
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Very cool. Your bull is like a portal to another dimension.
Thanks a lot @mada 🙏
I saw it the same way when I was painting it)