Alexander Dryomov: "Art is a cross you must bear"

Oleksandr Dryomov is an artist and performer from Odesa, one of the most enigmatic figures in the contemporary art scene. A true outsider, he deliberately keeps his distance from the art scene and considers himself a loner. Having mastered oil painting at the “age of Christ,” he creates sharp, piercing canvases, imbuing religious symbolism with contemporary meanings. Today, his works are exhibited in museums, sold, and held in private collections. Outside the studio, Oleksandr is a brash blogger who garners millions of views on social media and is known for his ice-swimming and ironic performances.

Let’s start with your physical fitness: boxing, CrossFit, cold therapy. At what point did your body cease to be merely a body and become part of your artistic image and language?

I started boxing later in life, after I turned 40. I’ve put active training on hold for now, but I can get back to it at any time. Then the war started, and my usual routine was disrupted.

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Oleksandr Dryomov. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

Is boxing just a fight for you, or is it something deeper?

Professionals and young people box for money. I did it exclusively for myself.

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Oleksandr Dryomov during a boxing session. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

You film videos of yourself swimming in the sea every day, all year round. Does that help you stay mentally strong?

Yes, it’s purely a psychological thing. I tried diving in the winter even before the war. And when the full-scale invasion began—even when access to the sea was restricted—it didn’t stop me. Last winter, I set myself a clear goal: to swim in the sea every day, without missing a single day, regardless of the weather.

It’s a matter of physiology: cold water effectively burns off cortisol, the stress hormone. Right now, we’re all under tremendous stress. Some people numb it with alcohol, others with drugs or antidepressants. As for me, I’ve been living a completely sober lifestyle for many years. Thanks to my daily cold-water immersion, I got through last winter—which was particularly tough—incredibly easily, without depression or stress-related disorders. I recommend it to anyone who has the willpower.

What exactly are you trying to convey to the viewer?

As a matter of principle, I’m not one for explaining things. Let them find the meaning for themselves. If I did something crazy and filmed it, why would I need to spell it out for anyone? Let them think I’m an idiot; let them find their own meanings. Why try to convince anyone? If I cared about public opinion, I’d be part of that crowd.

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Oleksandr Dryomov with his work. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

In the spring of 2022, you spent hours filling sandbags on Lanzheron and Dog Beach. Was that work to defend the city, or was it also part of a mass urban performance? What did you see in people back then?

It was stressful for everyone. Waking up in the morning in the midst of war—none of us had ever experienced anything like that. I just got up and went to do something useful; I was looking for a way to help. And I found it on the beach.

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Work by Oleksandr Dryomov. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

But comparing that situation to the current one… Right now, many people are deeply disappointed. Although for me, what’s happening now was entirely predictable as early as the first month of the war. I already understood back then that it wouldn’t be smooth sailing or easy.

Did you develop your artistic style among the well-known Odessa artists—alongside Igor Gusev and Sergei Anufriev?

No. I have a wide circle of acquaintances, but at the same time, I’m a complete loner. Everything I’ve done in art, I’ve done on my own. I arrived at my paintings through my own thinking. No one influenced me.

I’ve always been an artist. In my opinion, you don’t become an artist—you’re born one. But there was a very long period in my life that had nothing to do with art at all. When I turned 30, I started painting just for myself, “for my desk.” And at 40, I held my first exhibition.

What kind of exhibition was that?

It was in 2011, on the 20th anniversary of Ukraine’s independence. The exhibition had a distinctly protest-oriented character and was directed against the Yanukovych regime of the time. I’m an artist; I’m a rebel by nature and stand in opposition to any form of authority.

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Work by Oleksandr Dryomov. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

And how did you transition from landscapes to conceptual art?

As a child, I attended art school, but I didn’t learn oil painting techniques there. Around the age of 30, I wanted to learn how to paint in oils. I didn’t have the internet back then—it was the year 2000. I just bought some brushes and a self-study book. I’m completely self-taught. For the first couple of years, what I produced was completely nonsensical, but I didn’t give up. At first, I learned to paint landscapes—it was trendy, and I liked it.

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“I painted landscapes like that until I turned to contemporary art,” says Oleksandr Dryomov. SOURCE: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

And then I realized: landscapes no longer interest me. I have to focus on contemporary art, to reflect on the present. I leafed through specialized magazines, studied this genre, and in 2010 created my first conceptual work. And I hit the mark right away. My first step into contemporary art ended up in Marat Gelman’s collection.

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Alexander Dryomov’s first work in contemporary art. SOURCE: Alexander Dryomov’s Facebook

You’re considered one of the masters of the Odessa art scene. Do you feel like you belong to this community?

All these art circles are very exclusive. And then, in the 2000s, a 40-year-old man suddenly appeared out of nowhere and started painting... Almost all of my works are based on religious symbols. Shallow-minded people sometimes try to accuse me of “offending the feelings of believers.” But I’m not writing about the feelings of believers.

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A work by Oleksandr Dryomov. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

The issue of religion itself is a complex one for me. I believe in higher powers, but I never join any groups or, so to speak, the “herd.” Whether it’s parishioners in a church or groups of artists. That community wasn’t particularly eager to let me in, and I had absolutely no desire to blend in there.

For me, being an artist isn’t a profession. It’s a cross that’s been given to you, and you have to carry it, no matter what. It’s a talent you have no right to bury. I could go years without selling anything, but I kept working.

Are your works selling now?

During the war, sales are, of course, poor. But this remains my only source of income. I don’t earn money from anything else.

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Works by Oleksandr Dryomov in the catalog of the Ukrainian art auction “Dukat.” SOURCE: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

How do you separate blogging from painting?

I don’t mix them at all. On TikTok, people know me by the username “Odessa Artist.” There isn’t a single one of my paintings there! My TikTok followers don’t even realize that I actually paint canvases.

Right now, I have almost 100,000 followers on Instagram. I created a separate channel in my profile header where I post exclusively my paintings. That’s where the thousands of people who are interested in art go. I’ve found a connection with the younger generation —teens and young adults. They’re growing up, and that’s my audience.

I enjoy it when people approach me on the street. Not a single day goes by without a couple dozen people coming up to say hello or express their admiration. As long as it’s done politely, I appreciate it.

Many artists had a premonition of war before 2022. Did you have anything like that?

There was a premonition of something terrible. In 2021, right before the full-scale invasion, every one of my works was a variation or interpretation of the crucifixion. I didn’t even realize why I was doing it or where it was coming from, but through my paintings, I sensed impending disaster.

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A work by Oleksandr Dryomov, painted in 2015. SOURCE: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

I’ve noticed this in my personal life as well: sometimes you paint something on canvas, and years later, you look at it and realize that the scene has come to life in your own life.

What are your feelings about what lies ahead?

This is all going to last a long time. We don’t need to wait for anything; we just need to live in the here and now. People adapt to everything. We need to face reality with a clear head and live each day as it comes. Personally, I’m not making any plans right now—life has shown me that it’s a thankless endeavor. I just get up every day and do what I have to do.

How long does it take, on average, to create a single painting?

About a month. I don’t paint quickly, and I don’t work on a schedule from morning to night. I’m a completely free person. The only thing I can force myself to do every day is go for a swim in the sea. As for painting… I can’t force myself to paint. If I’m inspired, I’ll paint every day. If not, I won’t touch a canvas for months.

Do you take commissions?

I really don’t like doing that. If times get tough, I might take on a commission, but not just anything. I also don’t paint portraits from photographs—I’m not a professional portrait artist. What a professional could do in a couple of sessions would take me a month to finish. I only want to do what speaks to my soul.

For me, making money from paintings has never been an end in itself. The main thing is peace of mind and staying true to my path.

And what or who is capable of taking you out of that state of peace of mind?

External stimuli or difficult circumstances. But these are temporary; I quickly come to my senses.

Do you practice meditation to harmonize your inner state?

No, I don’t practice meditation in the strict sense. But I call my work on paintings meditation. Working on each canvas—that is true meditation. When I work, the rest of the world simply disappears for me, along with all extraneous thoughts and anxieties.

What do you dream about? What are your aspirations?

I dream of a house by the sea. I aspire to peace of mind and certain things that can bring about that peace.

So are you a minimalist? Do you spend only on the essentials?

I simply don’t have enough money to come up with anything extra. I spend what I have. I actually don’t need much. When you’re young, you want everything at once, but as the years go by, you start to realize that you need very little to be happy.

What inspires you to pick up a paintbrush today? Observation? An idea?

Of course, first and foremost—a thought, an idea. That’s what sets conceptualism apart from landscape painting. A landscape painter sees a beautiful view, heads out to paint en plein air—and can start painting. In contemporary art, the idea comes first. There are times when you want to work, but you don’t have a worthy idea. You don’t want to just mess up the canvas for no reason, so you wait for a profound concept to emerge. The best state is when you’re still finishing one piece, and the next one is already taking shape in your mind.

Do you make sketches, or do you capture the idea directly on the canvas?

I don’t make sketches or preparatory drawings. I start bringing the idea to life on the canvas right away. The idea might linger in my head for a while, but things often change as I work. You start painting, something doesn’t sit right, and a completely different image is born right there on the canvas. Rarely does the original concept from my head translate exactly onto the canvas. Everything transforms as I work.

How exactly does that first spark come about? 

Anything can serve as an impulse. I’m an artist; I think in images. An interesting visual image emerges in my mind, which, in my opinion, is worth transferring to the canvas. And the most important thing here is to leave room for the viewer. I like it when a viewer looks at a painting and comes up with their own interpretation. It doesn’t necessarily have to match what I had in mind. Sometimes I didn’t intend anything specific at all—I simply created a composition and added a detail for balance. But in the viewer’s eyes, that detail comes to life and gives rise to new meanings.

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A work by Oleksandr Dryomov. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

If you were to try to articulate your central theme in art—what would it be?

I feel it, but it’s hard for me to put it into words. These are deep inner experiences expressed through visual projects. Some people say my works are too gloomy. But that’s my style—I like it that way. I could paint something “sweet,” bright, and beautiful—that would also be contemporary art. But my style is to make people think and reflect. There are paintings that bring joy, but my canvases require some inner work. Every piece has its own audience.

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Work by Oleksandr Dryomov. PHOTO: Oleksandr Dryomov’s Facebook

Now I understand why staying in shape is so important to you. Is that related to your art?

For me, it’s directly related. I’m terrified of physical frailty. I’m not old, and I have a future ahead of me, but the prospect of becoming helpless frightens anyone. That’s why I push my body to the limit so that I can continue to fully engage in what I’m doing now—my art—for as long as possible.

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