Tuesday, January 31, 2012

viktor vasnetsov

I explained to someone the other night that the low economic bracket, while sometimes frustrating, is compensated by the intangibles or the fringe benefits, of free tuition and insurance that most Americanskis would kill to have, not to mention full access to sundry geekery and others to share such things with, and to encourage the curiosity.

As much as I love the printed word, having spent the early twenties majoring in English lit and minoring in art classes where mediocrity was mistaken for raw talent, I love when these two things converge.

My fellow peon stumbled across Victor Vasnetsov's work somehow, I'm not sure where, but I was smitten with the subject matter and the oil painting that reminded me of the Wyeth illustrations in the books my mom got for us from the library. My sister and I still read voraciously and we were obsessed with fairy tales from sundry parts of the globe. Baba Yaga with her house of chicken feet, Koschei the Deathless, flying carpets and firebirds.



There's a classicism and realism here even in the most fantastic of subject matter, and his religious art burns with an intensity that I find welcoming in a world of Kinkadeian sentimentalism. I would love to sit in this church and listen to chanting with lots of incense and icons, but in the meantime, these images will suffice.


More goodness here...

1 comment:

  1. Almost makes me wanna convert from cosmic indifference.

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