Mystras 1921

Editor: This is "Mystras," painted in watercolor by Alexis Gritchenko in 1921. There's something almost fractured about it, like a stained-glass window showing a sun-drenched cityscape. What's your take on this piece? Curator: It's as though Gritchenko isn't just showing us Mystras, he's trying to distill its essence – that feeling of history layered upon history. See how he breaks down the forms into these almost cubist planes? The hills, the buildings…it's a memory palace constructed in pigment and water. I think Gritchenko felt profoundly the way the light in the Greek landscape illuminates not only what's *there*, but the weight of the centuries, all those forgotten whispers and faded glories. Do you get a sense of that? Editor: I do, actually! The fractured quality almost feels like he's trying to capture the layers of time, how things crumble and are rebuilt. And that golden light… Curator: Precisely! It’s not just sunshine; it’s the light of Byzantium, filtered through Gritchenko's very personal lens. Look at the art nouveau and expressionism! A city as palimpsest. He paints more than what his eyes observed; it is what his soul apprehended! Editor: It’s incredible how much emotion he gets across with what seem like very simple shapes and colours. Curator: And those colours! The earthy tones, punctuated by the ochre and red…it’s a landscape singing a song of the past. It makes you want to hop on a donkey and wander up those hills, doesn’t it? Editor: Absolutely! I'll never look at a watercolour landscape the same way again. Curator: My thoughts exactly. We carry memories in our souls that colour how we observe life itself. Beautiful, isn’t it?