Prisoners (the Birds) - Martyn Tverdun - intersection of arts

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We choose prison voluntarily. We know that outside is wild beauty, fresh air and vibrant sky, but we prefer to observe it all through the screen of our window. Prison protects us from the wind, which blows out our thoughts, plans and conceptions. Only in prison can we pretend that we are gods.


Behind the concept of “Prisoners” stays the process of becoming conceptual itself. It is the story about creating a story.

My approach to creativity have rather been empirical than conceptual. I have always been looking for something which is behind words, behind our brains. That was sufficient for a personal level, but when it gets to the communication with others, even like-minded, there is a gap. Society wants you to have some label, to be identified.

An artist is supposed to be a writer. But isn't art a language itself? Isn't it sufficient? I feel so. Probably most of people are not able to understand it, and feeling that inability they think that artist itself should bare that educative mission.

Maybe they are right to some extent.

Who if not an artist?

But should it be mandatory?

I doubt... Unfortunately it is! I

f you don't play the rules, you are out of the game.

Okay! I accept it!

I accept the rules as I want to know what happens when you get to the next level of the game. Does it open you any opportunity on a personal level? Since only this level is important for an artist. It is the place where creativity starts.

Therefore, being free in nature, I put myself into the prison of mind deliberately.

I have painted walls...

They restrict me, and they protect me.

Anyway, I don't want to forget about the wild nature, the vibrant sky, and...

I have painted a window...

An opened window without any grid, glass, or even frame. I want to observe the beauty without any obstacles.

And I have painted myself inside the restricted room...

Painted my soul...

The most unknown part of myself.

And I am not surprised that it came up as a women – a biggest riddle for a man, and an absolute shape for an artist.

Prisoner #12

Here I want to make a note for ultra feminists, whose attacks I parry from time to time.

A female body is not an object in my case...

It is subject!

It is me!

Me in different hypostasis. Young, old, sad, happy, lean, corpulent, etc.

Complex! And that complexity strives to be expressed. It needs a totem!

I have painted a vessel and a plant, which represent each hypostasis by its shape and meaning...

Here it is! The place where words are ending, and art is starting.

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