Mykhailivske 1965

Hryhorii Havrylenko made this landscape painting, Mykhailivske, with a delicate touch, a symphony in muted blues and greys. I imagine him outside with his sketchbook and pencils in hand, the air crisp. It’s like he’s trying to capture not just the look of the place, but the feeling of it. See how the strokes are light, almost tentative, creating a sense of depth and distance. The hatch marks build up the clouds with an attentiveness that feels both grounded and expansive. The application is thin, allowing the paper to breathe, which gives the scene an ethereal quality. I wonder if Havrylenko was thinking about the Impressionists. The subtle rendering of light and atmosphere is also a reminder of Constable’s cloud studies. It shows how artists are in dialogue across time, drawing inspiration from one another’s discoveries and insights. You can almost feel the breeze and hear the quiet rustling of leaves. It’s an invitation to pause, breathe, and contemplate the beauty of a fleeting moment.