- 163
Oleg Vassiliev
Description
- Oleg Vassiliev
- Where are you?
- signed in Cyrillic and dated 92 l.r.; signed, titled and dated 1992 on the reverse
- oil on canvas
- 101 by 75.5cm, 39¾ by 29¾in.
Provenance
Phillips de Pury & Company London, Contemporary Russian Art, 28 February 2008, lot 22
Exhibited
Condition
"In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective, qualified opinion. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."
Catalogue Note
Like many post-modern late 20th century painters, Vassiliev was both an abstract and figurative artist and many of his works bring together both styles as in the offered lot. We can only see the upper part of Kira’s body emerging from the white rectangle which forms the centre of the painting, and she seems almost unattainable, partially hidden in the abstract composition she inhabits. For Vassiliev white took on a special, almost spiritual meaning. As his contemporary Ilya Kabakov wrote when remembering his discussions with Vassiliev and Bulatov in the 70s: ‘We were interested in white as the holy light and emptiness – not as emptiness in death or nothingness, but as absolutely positive’.
Leaves are seen throughout Vassiliev’s oeuvre as a recurring symbol. In Memory Speaks, Themes and Variations the exhibition catalogue published to coincide with the artist’s retrospective shows at the Tretyakov Gallery, and the Russian Museum, he writes about their meaning to him: ‘Leaves naturally reappear each Spring. But before their appearance there is a brief flurry of withered leaves from the previous year – a metaphor for personal memory. Life continues as long as memory exists’.