Dunya Zakharova "– 77,8°C"

Jan 25th - Feb 23th 2017

Osnova Gallery will present an exhibition of Dunya Zakharova "– 77,8°C" which will represent works made over the last year: painting, drawing, sculpture.
The previous project "extinct species" in Osnova gallery showed form as a self-contained object, but now there is a reduction of form to the void. Excessively sensual pink faded to all shades of white. Convex turned into a plane and oval canvases on which depicted faces are stood still in a state of slipping from reality and painting is not actually “painting”.

The face is an archetype which reproduce a primitive rhythm with endless repetition. It is necessary for immersion in the total space of exhibition.
Previously extremely tactile and sensual sculpture goes beyond the physical materiality and becomes fragile and delicate as frost on the trees.

The exhibition's title refers to the birthplace of Dunya Zakharova – Yakutia where this maximum low temperature was registered in 1938. This number is taken as an indication of the limits of human capabilities. This is an effort to immerse the viewer in the total space where not only the top layer cools to ants, but hidden underground deep permafrost limit. And also it is an effort to show the body that exists in the struggle for survival, trying to cover itself protective heat layer and then finally dissolving in a colorless mist.

Being at a distance from the place of birth the artist clearly aware the state of the cold in which crystallize state of pain. Now that pain is felt as a phantom and it’s expressed in sculpture.
Behind all this cold love is hidden. Love which encoded in fragments identified from the love discourse and materialized in abstract forms. This obscene sentimentality which covers the whole of the exhibition serves as a kind of manifesto of the artist's right to express his feelings without fear of being vulgar.

As Roland Barthes wrote in the preface to his "Fragments of Lover’s Discourse" which served as an inspiring material for the exhibition: "The lover's discourse is today of an extreme solitude. This discourse is spoken, perhaps, by thousands of subjects (who knows?), but warranted by no one; it is completely forsaken by the surrounding languages: ignored, disparaged, or derided by them, severed not only from authority but also from the mechanisms of authority (sciences, techniques, arts). Once a discourse is thus driven by its own momentum into the backwater of the "unreal," exiled from all gregarity, it has no recourse but to become the site, however exiguous, of an affirmation.” 

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