Workshop 1926

Boris Kustodiev made this ink drawing of his studio in 1926. The drawing is a flurry of marks, all these cross-hatchy lines, like he’s trying to catch the air in the room. I imagine Kustodiev standing there, squinting, his hand moving fast to capture the organized chaos of his studio. The walls are jam-packed with paintings, drawings, and tapestries. There’s a half-finished portrait on the easel, a nude above the cabinet, and a patterned carpet tossed on the wall like a trophy. I think this is about how paintings are never really finished, and they begin to accumulate and form the world around you. It becomes like a collection of your past selves all reflecting back at you, all at once. The network of lines that Kustodiev lays down is so busy, it becomes a kind of fabric. When you look closely, you can feel the artist’s interest in pattern and ornament, in his need to fill every corner of the page with something to see. I think he’s having a dialogue with all the other artists whose work is in the room, and he’s trying to channel it all through his hand. It is a reminder that painting is always an exchange, with the world, with other artists, and with ourselves.