Fascinated by the combination of seemingly opposite concepts: degradation and creation, destruction and construction, Sebastian Krzywak is a Poznan-based contemporary artist, Academy of Fine Arts graduate, and author of numerous solo and group exhibitions, in Poland and Germany. We talk about his methods of approaching art, sketching, and how he brings the painting “to life”. He also tells us how he understands beauty and drops the veil of secrecy surrounding the upcoming exhibition at Molski gallery, a fairly new, yet already well-known and prominent gallery in Poznan, Poland. Take a read and immerse in the contradictive, contemporary, and mysterious world of Krzywak’s art.
Monika Juskowiak: Your paintings have an organic form and a hypnotic quality. When I look at your works, I think of a combination of urban and organic elements. Street art and graffiti. Forms expressing rebellion and freedom also come to mind. Is this combination of biology and matter a good way to interpret your work? Or maybe it’s about the intersection of the analog and digital worlds?
Sebastian Krzywak: I am very much inspired by the phenomenon of graffiti removal, and its attempt to organize chaos. All the technical means of overpainting, removing, and matching create wonderful cityscapes. In my series of works on an aluminum substrate, I remove some of the paint with an orbital sander, which exposes earlier layers and leaves a tool mark. I have picked up this method at streetcar stops, where graffiti is cleaned off of plastic parts of shelters this way. This leaves an accidentally beautiful graphic design composed of removal marks.
While I do like some visual examples of urban vandalism, graffiti culture does not influence me very much. I just sometimes tend to use spray instead of a brush.
I noticed you used the enamel technique for some of the selected works. I read you often paint over and erase parts of your work to reveal more layers. Tell me more about your methods of working.
Indeed, I often use enamel because of its oiliness, heaviness and density, and its three-dimensionality. In addition, with the help of enamel, I achieve the organic character of the works. I currently use enamel only on small aluminum formats.
The erasure is sometimes literal and sometimes only illusory. An example of this is a realistically painted stain associated with a computer eraser tool. Erasing, for me, also consists of washing out the paint or mechanical abrasion. Some of these activities are quite invasive and aggressive by design, the effect itself, however, can be mesmerizing. Spray painting, pouring paint, and gravity-defying actions also give me the opportunity to be a spectator, to watch the process, and at the same time direct it, to say stop at the right moment.
What are the dimensions of your works? Is the size an additional meaning?
For several years I have had my favorite format: 190 x 150 cm. The painting is then 5 cm taller than me, which means that standing in front of it I am able to “enter” the image. It is an important principle for this kind of painting because the image is supposed to be perceived with all senses. But I also work on much smaller formats.
For some people, abstract art can be challenging to interpret. What clues are worth pursuing for those interested in finding understanding and meaning in your work?
I am fascinated by the combination of seemingly opposite concepts: degradation and creation, destruction and construction. For me, there is a certain kind of beauty to it. I know this word has long been pushed out of the art dictionary, but in my perception, a brilliantly repainted wall creates an ephemeral palimpsest, which is simply beautiful.
I mentioned erasing and painting over, but these are not just formal devices. To me, these working methods are a metaphor for memory, losing memories and recollection. I apply layer upon layer, pour paint and suddenly an initially forgotten or less important part of the painting comes to mind and takes on a new meaning. In the past, I used to attach high importance to fragrances: I loved this Proustian game of associations encoded in my brain. Three years ago, upon contracting Covid, I lost my sense of smell and thus – overnight – access to the whole olfactory library. It has been a difficult experience. Perhaps this is why I have stuck to this metaphor of layers of memory all the time, because it implies the impossibility of completely erasing the original record. Or maybe it is because I believe in the fragility and randomness of reality.
If you were to define the main areas of your creative work, what is the biggest challenge, and what is the most emotionally appealing?
Right after graduating, I used to paint in a very systematic way. I would create a design, which I would then transfer to the canvas very carefully. However, at one point I began to feel like a craftsman fulfilling an order. I missed the surprise effect, the challenge. This is why I currently aim to combine the two methods of working: the project-based and the intuitive one. Usually, the first sketch is created on a computer and then transferred to the canvas. In subsequent stages I work more intuitively: I often pour paint directly, destroying or changing the first layer. Then I take a picture and the image returns to the monitor screen. The cycle repeats until I decide that the painting is finished. So what fascinates me the most is the discovery, the development of images.
In the exhibition description for the BWA Gallery in Bydgoszcz, you said, “I feel like there are people who see the world as curves and those who perceive it through layers.” When looking at your paintings, will both groups of people see their world?
It was the curator who, in the text accompanying the exhibition, suggested the two ways of perceiving the world. The first one is more rational, and mathematical while seeing through the metaphor of layers is more ambiguous and surprising.
It is hard for me to say how the audience will see it. In my opinion, it is a balancing act between the two options.
How have your past collaborations influenced your current work? Will an observant viewer notice any influences in your upcoming exhibition in autumn in Molski Gallery?
I can only reveal that I am “letting more light in” in a new series of paintings that will be on display in autumn at Molski Gallery.
Can you tell us more about your cooperation with Molski Gallery?
The Molski Gallery showcases contemporary art and recently added one of my works to their collection. We began to collaborate and plan joint projects, which led to the gallery offering me representation. This will include a solo exhibition in the autumn, building on a cycle I started a few years ago. The new paintings will be more visually balanced and lighter.
