Margarita Sikorskaia Interview 2009

What inspired your new collection of paintings?

My current work is all inspired by raising my son, Ilya. I paint the emotions he produces in me. I am reliving my own childhood in a way, and I am also relating to my own mother once again. I think that we actually never grow up. We are so connected to our mothers. The umbilical cord is never cut until the mother’s death. I watch Ilya and remember myself at that age. In nature, kids have such a wonderment about them. As adults, we just pass by such things. As adults, we become so stuck in offices, cars, shopping malls, computer screens, responsibilities…. I want people who look at my paintings to once again be like that free, uninhibited child, to remember the magic, imagine, feel with one’s gut. The joy of being. “Simple pleasures” might be the topic of my new work.

What was your own childhood like?

I was always close to nature. I was born on January 15, 1968 in a section of St. Petersburg, Russia, called Sestroretsk (town of sister rivers). St. Petersberg itself is a beautiful city with lots of parks and waterways. It was designed by Italian and French architects at the invitation of Tzar Peter (Peter the Great), and was built in 1703, so it boasts beautiful European architecture and a serious network of rivers and canals. Sestroretsk is a resort town located 30 kilometers outside the city center, and sits on the Finnish Gulf of the Baltic Sea. It also has a picturesque munitions factory that made guns and cannons for the Tzar as well as WWII weapons later on. It has beaches, pine trees, sea breezes, and fantastic sunsets, so it naturally became a retreat for artists, poets, and musicians.
From childhood and through adolescence I always acted fully with my heart. I was somewhat of a tomboy: climbing trees, zooming on a bike, getting dirty, and getting in trouble (mostly with my grandmother). I refused to play with dolls like the “nice girls” did. Running free is a luxury for a child these days. When I was a child, we ran and ran in packs. I think that gave me free spirit, ability to make my own decisions and stick up for myself.

What was your family like?

My father was a plant maintenance specialist at a secret aircraft parts manufacturing plant. He started working there when he was thirteen or fourteen years old! He was very ingenious. He built the first family TV from scratch. My mother held various jobs over the years -- surgery nurse-assistant, warehouse manager, elevator operator, night watchman. She made our own clothes since finding anything attractive in Soviet stores was impossible. My sister, Galina, is seven years older than I am. She taught me how to read and write and how to draw.
Our family lived in what would be called a one-bedroom apartment in America. We girls shared a bedroom with our grandmother, and two of us slept on the same bed until Galina got married and moved in with her husband’s family. My parents occupied the living room, which was not closed off. I remember tip-toeing through the living room to the bathroom at night, trying not to wake them.

Did you take an interest in art as a child?

Well, St. Petersburg is a cultural center of Russia. The close proximity to theaters, museums and architecture was definitely beneficial for developing an artistic eye and creative mind of a child.
But more important, perhaps, my mother always encouraged me to draw, paint or play music. (I studied accordion for three years. It's all forgotten by now, so don't ask me to play anything for you.) She thought I had a real talent. When she grew up during the WWII, she didn't have an opportunity to do anything with her creative impulses. Like lots of children from the St. Petersburg area, she was taken away from her parents and sent to safer Finland. Some went to orphanages; the lucky ones went to foster families. It took years after the war to sort it out. Some never returned. And yes, she can still speak Finnish language. I guess she was determined to give encouragement to her children to develop their talents. Thank you, mom.

Do you remember anything about your childhood art work?

I remember one interesting detail. When I was 5 or 6 years old, I drew a picture of a naked lady just standing, somewhat anatomically correct. My mother was the only adult I had seen naked, so it looked something like her. When my sister came home, I felt too ashamed to show it to her, but finally under pressure and with tears I finally confided in her. I urged my sister to keep silent about it, which she did, and I felt a special bond of trust with her as a result. My sister helped me ritualistically burn the picture in the kitchen sink. My father smelled something odd when he came home, but no one said a word.

Did you have formal art training in Russia?

At eighteen, I went to the Hertzen Pedagogical University of St. Petersberg in the Department of Arts and Graphics. It was a tuition-free state-owned institution (free education is one of the traits of communism), and if you did well, you were encouraged by a stipend for your living expenses. I completed four years there, but did not receive a degree. When I was twenty-two, I was invited by a friend to go to the United States to attend school in Minneapolis. In order to meet the deadline, I had to leave the University immediately, just before I would have qualified for my degree.

Did you attend art school in America?

I arrived in Minneapolis with only $300 and found that it was not enough to enroll in any college in America. I had to support myself as I tried to learn English, so I took jobs that did not require too much English -- sales at retail stores, receptionist, even a nanny.

How did you find your way back to art?

Through mutual friends, I met a painter, Charles Thysell. I remember that he asked me what I did, and I said, “I am a painter.” He asked to see my work, and I said that I did not have any at the time. Charles said “What kind of painter are you if you don’t paint?“ and my reply impressed him: “You don’t have to be constantly painting to be an artist.” We soon became friends. I had little money and no idea what to do to get art materials, so he brought me to an art store and bought me supplies. I began painting little things, getting used to the feeling and getting in touch with color again. Charlie had long thought about trying to paint with a partner, and so we began painting together. As a friend and a mentor, Charlie taught me what to look for and how to see. Our collaboration worked right away and lasted for three years. It resulted in our paintings being shown in a gallery directed by Angela King.

Since that period, how has your painting developed?

I constantly look through art books. I become a sponge for successful ideas, color combinations, compositions, effects, etc. As I absorb, I learn. I don't have any particular painter in mind. They all had their share of greatness and failure. I'm after the learning process of becoming a better artist. And Charles continues to be an influence.

How do you make your paintings?

I generally start by covering a canvas with some warm tone color, usually in acrylic -- something that will unite my whole palette. After making a loose drawing, I start laying down the general colors, trying to paint all different areas, figuring out my darks and lights. And the rest is up to the creative process. I try not to control the painting, but let it lead me. At times the final result is very different from the original concept.
My favorite medium is oil. I love the creaminess of it and the slow drying time, which allows for deliberate manipulation of the paint on a canvas. But lately I started experimenting with acrylic. It dries fast and doesn't have an odor (that became important since I started painting in a little studio in my house). It presents certain challenges for my technique. I have to paint in layers. Right color is important to me, but mixing exact color in acrylic is almost impossible; it dries darker and cooler. But I like the unexpected results that may come out of it.
My work is always evolving and changing. I adopt a style to support the emotion I am expressing. At one time, I painted over-sized figures that filled the canvas to emphasize their presence. Presently I am using a lot more space around the figures. My beings are more united with what is surrounding them. The environment becomes part of the emotion.

Finally, how has living in America affected you?

Hard question.… I don't remember anymore. I'm sure that if I'd never left Russia, I would've been a very different person now. On one hand, my world became bigger; on the other hand, I feel very isolated from the rest of the world. America is a self-centered country, politically, philosophically and culturally. That may be because there is a real diversity that has rooted here.

Thank you, Margarita Sikorskaia!