Contemporary Art in Context: Victoria Lomasko

Victoria Lomasko documents everyday life in Russia through graphic illustrations, murals, and drawings. Her work draws on Russian traditions of social realism and documentary drawings executed during World War II (1939–1945) by people in detention camps and within the military. She often sheds light on aspects of Russian life that authorities would probably prefer no one sees—stories of political protests, exploited immigrants, and the poor.

Graphic Reportage
Lomasko considers her art part of the graphic reportage genre. She explores contemporary Russian society, focusing on such diverse groups as devout churchgoers, ultra-nationalists, LGBTQ+ activists, children in desolate rural schools, and oppressed women. She sketches her subjects in a gritty realistic style with felt-tip pen or pencil, completing them with paint or ink. Her 2020 series A Trip to Minsk documents the protests and trials that followed the questionable reelection of the Belarusian dictator. The protest images are contrasted with drawings of Belarusian flags suspended between buildings—a demonstration of the protestors’ pride in their country.

Murals and Other Works
Lomasko’s work can also be self-reflective, such as Grandmother’s Garden, a retrospective drawing of her and her grandmother surrounded by her memories, fantasies, and musings about growing up in a poor, rural town south of Moscow. Her mural Under Water, equates life in Moscow to living underwater, “sinking to the bottom” and burying herself in the silt to “become one of the many other inconspicuous fish.”

Art History
Between 1917 and 1920, Russian avant-garde artists such as Malevich, Tatlin, Kandinsky, and Chagall welcomed the new “egalitarian” Soviet state, believing it would allow people to create rewarding lives. Those dreams were dashed around 1921 when the oppressive Soviet regime mandated socialist realism as the state art style, using the artwork as a propaganda tool that championed the “common people” as symbols of the successful new Russia. Most progressive artists left Russia for the West. Lomasko’s work has turned socialist realism on its head, exploring the true “common people” of present-day Russia shining under a very bright light.

About the Artist
Lomasko was born 1978 in the rural town of Serpukhov. Her father, Valentin, was an official artist for a secret military installation, designing posters that lauded the greatness of the Soviet Union. She studied graphic arts and book design at Moscow State University of Printing Art, graduating in 2003. Lomaskoʼs books include Forbidden Art (2011), which won the Russian Kandinsky Prize, and Other Russias (2017), which brought her international recognition. She is also co-curator of two ongoing projects, Our Courtroom Drawings and Feminist Pencil.

ARTIST Q&A
What are some of the biggest influences on your work?
Victoria Lomasko: Until recently, I was mostly interested in the works of Soviet artists made during the early years of the October Revolution. During 1917–1920, a new society was born in Russia incredibly fast, and artists tried to reflect this event in their works. I was attracted not by the suprematism of Kazimir Malevich, well known in the West, but by the figurative art of artists such as Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin and even by the early works of Aleksander Deyneka, who later became the most famous representative of the Socialist Realistic style. It seems to me that most of the Soviet heritage has been forgotten unfairly, and that’s why I was more inclined to work and revive the Russian context rather than working with the Western culture.

But during the last few years, I have realized that this mixed fixation with the local context restricts me strongly. Before, I could even call myself “The Last Soviet Artist” with irony, but now I want to be a “full universal artist” who creates a message that is interesting to everyone and not only to those who study Russia and the Post-Soviet space. With the new self-definition I am now interested in other artists. From David Hockney, I learn vitality and joy. From Marcel Dzama, the elegance of colors and details. From William Blake, a poetic language. I recently discovered the work of American artist Charles E. Burchfield, who was born in a small town in the state of Ohio, a place with very “ordinary” landscapes. However, the artist transformed these landscapes in his works into magical views because he depicted not physical objects, but the energy hidden in them. This is the kind of vision I want to develop for myself.

Do you have specific strategies, rituals, or routines that help you work and/or generate ideas?
VL: I have a big sketchbook where I take notes that are sketches of initial ideas that include text and very simple symbolic images. Every day, I reread the notes and add new thoughts. The most important thing in this process is to see behind the many separated art projects the general wave—a direction where my art is moving to. One of my strategies is to continually refine my desired goals.

Regarding the organization of the work process: It helps me a lot when my cat Dwarf is sitting next to me. In the past, it was difficult for me to stay at home; I always wanted to run somewhere, look for places where something interesting is happening. This is one of the reasons why I became a graphic journalist. It was easier for me to make hundreds of quick sketches in dangerous places than to draw one complex composition sitting at home. But since I adopted a street cat at the beginning of the pandemic, everything has changed. The cat creates such a cozy atmosphere that I can sit at home for months drawing large complex compositions.

What is a typical workday like for you?
VL: Every day I take one more step to approach the “Lomaskoʼs world” that already exists in my mind. But all these steps are different. Maybe Iʼll walk around the city all day with my sketchbook making sketches. Perhaps Iʼll be writing my reportages and essays. Possibly, Iʼll go to Minsk hidden in a bag to depict the Belarusian Revolution. Or maybe Iʼll paint a large and complex watercolor composition at home.

And even when it seems that at this moment I don’t do art, in reality, I do it because it is impossible to stop the process of perception and transformation of images. The places I travel to will definitely appear in my works, and the friends I hang out with will one day be the heroes of my stories. Recently, while swimming in a pool, I was excited by the beautiful combination of the illuminated water and the dusky sky behind the huge fitness club windows. The water shimmered with ultramarine and turquoise colors, and snowflakes quietly floated across the gray sky. I swam and memorized the combination of colors to use it in my artwork. For me, being an artist is not so much about a profession as it is about a special way of life.

How did your life in a remote town south of Moscow influence the subject matter of your art?
VL: I was born in a small and old town called Serpukhov, located sixty-two miles from Moscow. During all my childhood, I dreamt of escaping from Serpukhov to a huge metropolis. At nineteen, I entered Moscow State University of Printing Arts, and after graduating, I stayed to live and work in Moscow. I used to depict not the quiet provincial life but the rallies of thousands of people and urban landscapes with all different kinds of characters running around. Last year, I felt that I no longer wanted to ignore the meditative life of the provinces; now I can take both and fuse them in my art.

I think that more important than the place where I was born, it is the time; I was born in last years of the Soviet Union. In those years, there was an awful economic crisis in the country; many ordinary products and things could only be bought with special coupons. I remember, as a child, freezing with my parents making the line for sugar—the huge line wouldnʼt fit in the store, and people were standing outside with their children in the frosty winter. We lived poorly, like most Soviet families. Bread, milk, potatoes... and only one pair of miserable boots that I wore for five years... such was the routine of my childhood. Because of that life experience, my art did not go in the direction of creating glamorous or conceptual art for the few, instead I talk about life in a simple language to be understood by everyone.

How do you think your graphic reportage differs from political cartoons?
VL: Political cartoons are rarely made with a soft humor. Usually, the cartoonist makes strong judgments like, “this is the aggressor, and this is their victim,” “this is a bad country, and this is a good country.” Political cartoonists promote the idea that art must be a weapon in the struggle for justice.

The graphic journalist has exactly the opposite goals of a political cartoonist. Our goals are to observe carefully, to investigate and gather proofs, to try to tell the story objectively, and to allow the reader to make his or her own judgment. The more I observe and study reality, the more I come to believe that nothing is well defined. I have begun to doubt that real “objectivity” exists, so I am shifting from making reports to creating essays and drawing diaries, without the desire of hiding the fact that any story is colored with my perception.

DISCUSSION
Introduce students to Lomasko’s work using the images featured in this article. Explain her background and bio as appropriate for your students’ grade level. Ask students to compare her style of drawing to other artwork they may have seen (e.g., comics, political cartoons, illustration). Then show them a variety of images of graphic journalism (see Resources). Ask, What makes an interesting story? How do you know if an event is “newsworthy”? What stories from your own life might be a good fit for graphic journalism?

STUDIO EXPERIENCES

Create a drawing that illustrates a conversation you had with a friend or family member. How can your art capture the personality of the person you are drawing?
Choose an article from a reputable news organization.
Create a drawing that illustrates the most important aspects of the story.
Carry a sketchbook or digital tablet with you for a week, creating a series of sketches that document everyday conversations with friends, family, or discussions you overhear. Choose two of the most interesting sketches to develop into completed drawings.
Create an artwork in the media of your choice that tells a story about everyday life in your community. Consider people, jobs, or stories that might normally be overlooked. How can your artwork shine a light on them?