About life, about art and about yourself

About the Soviet reward system

The artist lived not so bad in the Soviet Union. At the Republican Union, the Art Fund of the Ukrainian SSR functioned, on the balance of which there were art salons, creative houses, but the main thing was that the Fund had a powerful production base. Its turnover was about 10 million Soviet rubles a year. A member of the union, performing social orders or exhibiting their paintings in the art salon, could count on guaranteed earnings. The state in which the artists lived and for which they worked bought their work at republican and all-Union exhibitions, and paid for them quite generously.

Twice a year (in spring and autumn), there were creative trips of the artists. At one time I participated in five such trips. For the first time it was in the spring of 1977 as part of the All-Union group of watercolourists in the hero-cities of the Black Sea region (Odessa, Kerch with a reporting exhibition in Sevastopol on the eve of May 9). The following groups were called “In the Arkhangelsk Province”, “Kamchatka”, “Vologodchina”, “North Ossetia”. Invariably, the group included representatives of 15 union republics — 27 people in total. I don’t know who determined this number, but it remained constant.

During a creative business trip to Solovki. Alexey Petrenko aboard the Tataria motor ship.

As a rule, the candidates were selected at all-Union art exhibitions. For the best artists there were three types of incentives:

The first insentive is a contract with the artist for the acquisition of six works, which he was supposed to paint before the next all-Union exhibition. If the artistic council accepted these paintings, the contract was closed and the artist received six hundred rubles for each work.

The second insentive is the selection and purchase of one painting directly at the exhibition (the best work was determined by the selection committee appointed by Moscow, which included an artistic director, a director, a headman and ordinary members).

The third insentive as a reward for the best work is a creative business trip as part of an all-Union creative team. I was already considered a “veteran”, since starting from 1977, for five years in a row, I was the only representative of Ukraine in such groups.

The business trip lasted 40 days: the first 20 we collected material, then another 20 days we painted pictures in the hotel, preparing for the exhibition.

Alexey Petrenko in the creative group of artists. Kamchatka. The end of the 1970s.

As for the paintings we painted during such business trips, at first they were exhibited at a thematic exhibition, after that they were sent to Moscow, and from there they were sent to republican branches of the Union of Artists of the USSR, where artists could pick them up and dispose at their discretion.

In addition to the Union of Artists and the Ministry of Culture, many of my works had been acquired through the art salon by private individuals, especially those traveling abroad - to Israel, Australia, France.

About the artist’s hands  

Should an artist take care of his hands? Of course. But once upon a time I read the memoirs of Yevgeny Katsman, who in 1926, together with Brodsky, Radimov and Grigoriev, visited Repin in Kuokkala. Ilya Efimovich stretched out his hand for a handshake, but it was completely dry... As you know, because of constant overloads, the famous painter’s right hand started to hurt, and then completely refused to work, and he learned to paint pictures with his left hand.

As for myself... For an artist, both a keen eye and a skilled hand are equally important. But, perhaps, the most important thing is a sensitive heart ... Today, my eyesight is not very good and I have remained practically without hands, but I continue to paint. And I dare to suggest that I do it no worse than in my younger years.

I ruined my hands while I was biulding my house. Since the brick, slate, and other materials were purchased only for the money I got after the selling of paintings, building in general lasted 40 years.

The situation was complicated by the fact that I really wanted to return to the yard where I was born and where my father’s house stood. The ground here was all disturbed; there we five of the buried cellars. Together with my brother-in-law, we dug trenches, then filled them with sand making some kind of a pillow and concreted. A mixture of water, sand, cement and gravel was prepared by hand: a concrete mixer was worth the money, and we were already in short of it. As a result, I almost lost my hands. I paid a high price for this house, but if it was not there today, I don’t even know what would happen to me and where I would be...

About the modern art

I protest against the cow heads flooded with formaldehyde; I protest against the naked king being exhibited today in the art centers of the so-called modern art.

We have already experienced it. A hundred years ago, Nikolai Punin already called for ‘blowing up, destroying, wiping out old art forms’, and his friend Kazimir Malevich stated ‘Even the rusty nut with a torn thread is more dear tome than St. Basil’s Cathedral. Like, it’s time to ‘put the Greece asise’ and ‘burn the remnants of the sins in the crematorium’.

They were echoed by futurist poets, demanding ‘to push Pushkin, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and so forth from the Steamer of modernity’.

There were creative groups of avant-garde artists like Golubaya Rosa (Blue Rose), Oslinny Hvost (Donkey’s Tail), Bubnovy Valet (Jack of Diamonds). By the way, the latter was founded by truly powerful artists: Pyotr Konchalovsky (son-in-law of Vasily Surikov), Mikhail Larionov, Aristarkh Lentulov. But in the end Lentulov turned to his comrades ‘That’s enough, it’s time to return to Shishkin.’

I am sure: pure, classical art will live as long as there are colors in the world. You can’t do without it.

About the inspiration and the the sixth sense

I am a mystic in my soul. I feel some mystery in the works. Sometimes people ask me: why is the picture made in such an unexpected color scheme, or why such an unusual composition? I don’t know what to answer. The idea comes by itself. Suddenly, a feeling is born: I w’ll do it. Something prompts to stop the attention on this or that landscape, this or that subject. I can’t explain it...

And sometimes, I start the work, and after a while I look at the almost finished picture and I understand that this won’t work, this can’t be. I take the palette knife and remove all the paint.

Sometimes I want to paint over some old picture, even the one that has already been exhibited. Suddenly, the thought comes that the paint layer must be sanded, covered with linseed oil and another picture should be painted over the old one. In most cases, the new picture is very successful.

Right now I am painting a picture dedicated to Markalevka. Nothing distracts and disturbs me; nothing negative interferes with my actions. I will never want and won’t be able refuse this picture; I’ll go to the end. And I feel that it will be a good picture.

About creative plans

I don’t share my projects with anyone, nor do I schedule large programs for myself. Because if you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.

Long before, Seneca said very precisely about this ‘It’s pointless to plan for life without being the owner of even tomorrow.’

About the secret of youth

For 31 years, I don’t smoke and don’t drink alcohol. One day I gave up drinking and smoking. I used to drink like all artists (my fellows often sin with more glasses than it should be), but woke up one morning and said to myself: that’s enough.

I adhere to the fasts according to the Orthodox calendar, but I do it not from religious convictions. Habitating yourself to asceticism is one of the ways to stay in good physical and mental shape.

I have been doing physical exercise every morning for 31 years. It consists of 15 exercises (seven of them are free without a projectile, three with a projectile and five with dumbbells). Some exercises I do 37 times, the rest - 57. I took the complex of physical exercises of sailors I mastered during my service in the fleet as a basis. In addition, with the onset of spring and till the late autumn I go out and pour cold water on me in the morning.

Every day I get the opportunity to do this exercise from God in the struggle (or ask for it). It’s like God’s help giving me a stimulus for the whole day. I don’t know, maybe I will die tomorrow, so I don’t want to plan anything, but today I think that I’ll live normally with the help of God until the end of the day.

However, I don’t blame those who don’t do any exercise; I don’t blame those sitting next to me at the festive table with a glass of vodka or a glass of wine. But I think that if a person is 40 years old, it’s time for him to think about how he will live and what he will do in order not to stumble and not writhing in diseases, but to meet his old age in good physical shape and not be a burden to anyone. I told my children: I don’t know if this will be God’s permission, but I’d like to be with you as long as possible so that I can help you more.

About sacred architecture

When I drive through Chernihiv region and on one side or another I see a distant village and a church across the field, I am ready to stop the bus, leave everything and go to paint the church. Some force pulls me there.

About holy bread

Almost every day you can smell the fresh pastries in our house. This is the real spirit of Athos. My son, Alexey Petrenko, Jr., brought leaven from the holy mountain, and since then we have been baking black and white bread, as well as various muffins only from Athos unleavened yeast.

About parenting

I am proud of my sons, Alexey and Bogdan. I won’t tell lies and say that I applied some special method for their upbringing. I’m not a teacher.

On Mount Athos, the old man has been living for forty years. He is Papa Janis, and when he is asked about raising children, he answers: no need to educate, the mother of God will raise them, and you (parents) show your example. And one more his phrase stuck in my memory: talk less with children about God, talk more with God about children.

About Ukrainian and other languages

Love Ukraine, Like the Sun Do Love Her

Love Ukraine, like the sun do Love Her,

like the wind, the grasses, and the waters...

In the hour of good fortune and the moment of joy,

love her in the moment of discord.

Love Ukraine in your dreams and in fact,

Your Ukraine - cherry red,

her eternal, and new living beauty

her nightingale like language.

 Love her in the struggles, in love, in battle,

in this time, when the battlements rumble...

With your whole heart love your Ukraine,

to eternity we'll be there with her!

These poems by Vladimir Sausura are my motto.

I once spoke exclusively in Russian. But at the beginning of 1991 my mind was revolved. It happened at the celebration of the 80th anniversary of Ivan Makarovich Gonchar. The evening concert took place in the assembly hall of the Union of Artists of Ukraine. A person who devoted his entire life to the preservation and development of national Ukrainian culture was honored. All my artist friends came in embroidered shirts. On the stage something with the Christmas Goat, Death and other mummers characters (the anniversary was celebrated immediately after the New Year) was performed. It was something incredible: I listened to our Ukrainian songs and tears appeared in my eyes.

After this event, I began to speak in Ukrainian, but I also don’t reject Russian. I love Pushkin. And once at the Arkhangelsk airport I was presented with a book by Nikolai Rubtsov.

Oh, my quiet homeland!

The willows, a river, and the nightingales...

My mother is buried here

In the years of my childhood

- Where is the graveyard? Have you seen it?

For I can’t fіnd it. -

The habitants replied quitely:

- That is on the opposite shore.

The habitants replied quietly,

The carts quietly passed,

The dome of the church

Is overgrown with bright grass.

Now there’s only mug and slough

In the place where I liked to swim...

Oh, my quiet homeland,

I haven’t forgotten anything.

How can I throw it away? Is it possible to leave it? My heart aches when I read these words.

Or:

The lacy shadow of a willow

is napping on my wall.

Tommorow under that willow

I will have a busy day.

I will water the flowers

I will be thinking about my fate

And till the night star

I’ll be crafting a boat for myself

I urge everyone, both Ukrainian and Russian, to be nationalists. Let all love their homeland, but in such a way that not to interfere with each other.

Remember, like Taras Shevchenko said ‘And learn someone else’s, and do not reject yours.’

At the same time, the Ukrainian people have every reason to form their culture, because "in their house there is truth, strength and will." And "whoever forgets his mother, God punishes him", so let's not shy away from our native language, native culture, our history.