Mixed media on canvas
33cm x 33cm x 6cm
Sold
Mixed Media
42cm x 30cm
Sold
Mixed Media
74cm x 47cm
Sold
Mixed Media on Canvas
50cm x 50cm
£950.00
Ink on Chinese Mulberry Bark
64cm x 44cm
Mixed Media
55cm x 37cm
Sold
Mixed Media
22.5cm x 15cm
Oil on prepared board
100cm x 48cm x 8cm (framed)
£2600 framed
Charcoal and acrylic on prepared paper
61cm x 42cm
£975.00
Mixed Media
42cm x 30cm
Mixed Media
22.5cm x 15cm
Chinese ink and acyclic on prepared corrugated board
48cm x 48cm x 7cm framed
£850
Digital inkjet limited edition print on 330gsm Somerset Satin enhanced archival paper 1/25 editions
59cm x 42cm
£325 framed
Charcoal
84cm x 59cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Mixed Media
59cm x 42cm
Mixed Media on Canvas
30cm x 30cm
Mixed Media
22.5cm x 15cm
Chinese Ink & Charcoal
59cm x 42cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
£450.00
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Ink on Chinese Mulberry Bark
64cm x 44cm
Oil and pastel on canvas
104cm x 104cm x 6cm (framed)
Sold
Ink on Chinese Mulberry Bark
60cm x 44cm
Ink on Cartridge
84cm x 60cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Mixed Media on Mulberry Bark
56cm x 46cm
My late father's painting table, studio chair, paint splattered shoes, and wooden smoking pipe.
Does that mean you're not coming to dinner? is a part of a body of work about the death of my father. The piece came about after clearing his art studio over several days discovering gems, junk and artefacts. Here lie one of his studio tables splattered with acrylic paint and his well-used swivel chair. I love the encrusted layering of paint sitting on the surface and his shoes suspended as there's nowhere left to walk. His smoking pipe unused for over 30 years with touches of paint, now hugs the wooden vessel. Beauty lies in the lingering smell of his tobacco so reminiscent of my childhood days. The pipe, ode to Magritte's 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe'. So perhaps, this is not a table. For me it's simply his body as though laid to rest. His shoes are suspended where his feet would lie and the empty chair at the head of the table. Unset. The pipe lingers at head height as though I'm prolonging his departure.
Featured in new group show, ‘Relational Dreams - The Disjunction of Aesthetic forms and their opposites’ from April 22nd - May 1st 2022.
Does that mean you're not coming to dinner? is a part of a body of work about the death of my father. The piece came about after clearing his art studio over several days discovering gems, junk and artefacts. Here lie one of his studio tables splattered with acrylic paint and his well-used swivel chair. I love the encrusted layering of paint sitting on the surface and his shoes suspended as there's nowhere left to walk. His smoking pipe unused for over 30 years with touches of paint, now hugs the wooden vessel. Beauty lies in the lingering smell of his tobacco so reminiscent of my childhood days. The pipe, ode to Magritte's 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe'. So perhaps, this is not a table. For me it's simply his body as though laid to rest. His shoes are suspended where his feet would lie and the empty chair at the head of the table. Unset. The pipe lingers at head height as though I'm prolonging his departure.
Featured in new group show, ‘Relational Dreams - The Disjunction of Aesthetic forms and their opposites’, from April 22nd - May 1st 2022
Does that mean you're not coming to dinner? is a part of a body of work about the death of my father. The piece came about after clearing his art studio over several days discovering gems, junk and artefacts. Here lie one of his studio tables splattered with acrylic paint and his well-used swivel chair. I love the encrusted layering of paint sitting on the surface and his shoes suspended as there's nowhere left to walk. His smoking pipe unused for over 30 years with touches of paint, now hugs the wooden vessel. Beauty lies in the lingering smell of his tobacco so reminiscent of my childhood days. The pipe, ode to Magritte's 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe'. So perhaps, this is not a table. For me it's simply his body as though laid to rest. His shoes are suspended where his feet would lie and the empty chair at the head of the table. Unset. The pipe lingers at head height as though I'm prolonging his departure.
Oil and acrylic on canvas
50cm x 50cm
50:50 part 1 & part 2, a diptych based on my late father’s last two paintings which he proudly showed to me in his studio before he became ill. His magnificent cadmium yellow wheat fields and cobalt blue sky, with straw stuck on the foreground. Glued on well, he told me, to repel rodent pals who had tried to eat the straw! After his death, I found his reference image lying on his studio floor. Just a cut up matzah (unleavened bread) box, splattered with his paint. He loved Passover, the Jewish festival about the story of the Exodus of the Jewish people lead out of slavery and hardship in Egypt. He enjoyed the symbolism and rituals of religion and was a spiritual person. The message is so relevant today. As his father Alec Zivatovsky, was a Ukrainian refugee, who managed to escape from Kyiv and granted asylum to the UK in the late 1890’s. The colours continue, and so does the search for freedom and peace as we stand with Ukraine.
Oil and acrylic on canvas
50cm x 50cm
50:50 part 1 & part 2, a diptych based on my late father’s last two paintings which he proudly showed to me in his studio before he became ill. His magnificent cadmium yellow wheat fields and cobalt blue sky, with straw stuck on the foreground. Glued on well, he told me, to repel rodent pals who had tried to eat the straw! After his death, I found his reference image lying on his studio floor. Just a cut up matzah (unleavened bread) box, splattered with his paint. He loved Passover, the Jewish festival about the story of the Exodus of the Jewish people lead out of slavery and hardship in Egypt. He enjoyed the symbolism and rituals of religion and was a spiritual person. The message is so relevant today. As his father Alec Zivatovsky, was a Ukrainian refugee, who managed to escape from Kyiv and granted asylum to the UK in the late 1890’s. The colours continue, and so does the search for freedom and peace as we stand with Ukraine.
Mixed media on canvas
33cm x 33cm x 6cm
Sold
Mixed Media
42cm x 30cm
Sold
Mixed Media
74cm x 47cm
Sold
Mixed Media on Canvas
50cm x 50cm
£950.00
Ink on Chinese Mulberry Bark
64cm x 44cm
Mixed Media
55cm x 37cm
Sold
Mixed Media
22.5cm x 15cm
Oil on prepared board
100cm x 48cm x 8cm (framed)
£2600 framed
Charcoal and acrylic on prepared paper
61cm x 42cm
£975.00
Mixed Media
42cm x 30cm
Mixed Media
22.5cm x 15cm
Chinese ink and acyclic on prepared corrugated board
48cm x 48cm x 7cm framed
£850
Digital inkjet limited edition print on 330gsm Somerset Satin enhanced archival paper 1/25 editions
59cm x 42cm
£325 framed
Charcoal
84cm x 59cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Mixed Media
59cm x 42cm
Mixed Media on Canvas
30cm x 30cm
Mixed Media
22.5cm x 15cm
Chinese Ink & Charcoal
59cm x 42cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
£450.00
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Ink on Chinese Mulberry Bark
64cm x 44cm
Oil and pastel on canvas
104cm x 104cm x 6cm (framed)
Sold
Ink on Chinese Mulberry Bark
60cm x 44cm
Ink on Cartridge
84cm x 60cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Mixed Media
30cm x 21cm
Mixed Media on Mulberry Bark
56cm x 46cm
My late father's painting table, studio chair, paint splattered shoes, and wooden smoking pipe.
Does that mean you're not coming to dinner? is a part of a body of work about the death of my father. The piece came about after clearing his art studio over several days discovering gems, junk and artefacts. Here lie one of his studio tables splattered with acrylic paint and his well-used swivel chair. I love the encrusted layering of paint sitting on the surface and his shoes suspended as there's nowhere left to walk. His smoking pipe unused for over 30 years with touches of paint, now hugs the wooden vessel. Beauty lies in the lingering smell of his tobacco so reminiscent of my childhood days. The pipe, ode to Magritte's 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe'. So perhaps, this is not a table. For me it's simply his body as though laid to rest. His shoes are suspended where his feet would lie and the empty chair at the head of the table. Unset. The pipe lingers at head height as though I'm prolonging his departure.
Featured in new group show, ‘Relational Dreams - The Disjunction of Aesthetic forms and their opposites’ from April 22nd - May 1st 2022.
Does that mean you're not coming to dinner? is a part of a body of work about the death of my father. The piece came about after clearing his art studio over several days discovering gems, junk and artefacts. Here lie one of his studio tables splattered with acrylic paint and his well-used swivel chair. I love the encrusted layering of paint sitting on the surface and his shoes suspended as there's nowhere left to walk. His smoking pipe unused for over 30 years with touches of paint, now hugs the wooden vessel. Beauty lies in the lingering smell of his tobacco so reminiscent of my childhood days. The pipe, ode to Magritte's 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe'. So perhaps, this is not a table. For me it's simply his body as though laid to rest. His shoes are suspended where his feet would lie and the empty chair at the head of the table. Unset. The pipe lingers at head height as though I'm prolonging his departure.
Featured in new group show, ‘Relational Dreams - The Disjunction of Aesthetic forms and their opposites’, from April 22nd - May 1st 2022
Does that mean you're not coming to dinner? is a part of a body of work about the death of my father. The piece came about after clearing his art studio over several days discovering gems, junk and artefacts. Here lie one of his studio tables splattered with acrylic paint and his well-used swivel chair. I love the encrusted layering of paint sitting on the surface and his shoes suspended as there's nowhere left to walk. His smoking pipe unused for over 30 years with touches of paint, now hugs the wooden vessel. Beauty lies in the lingering smell of his tobacco so reminiscent of my childhood days. The pipe, ode to Magritte's 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe'. So perhaps, this is not a table. For me it's simply his body as though laid to rest. His shoes are suspended where his feet would lie and the empty chair at the head of the table. Unset. The pipe lingers at head height as though I'm prolonging his departure.
Oil and acrylic on canvas
50cm x 50cm
50:50 part 1 & part 2, a diptych based on my late father’s last two paintings which he proudly showed to me in his studio before he became ill. His magnificent cadmium yellow wheat fields and cobalt blue sky, with straw stuck on the foreground. Glued on well, he told me, to repel rodent pals who had tried to eat the straw! After his death, I found his reference image lying on his studio floor. Just a cut up matzah (unleavened bread) box, splattered with his paint. He loved Passover, the Jewish festival about the story of the Exodus of the Jewish people lead out of slavery and hardship in Egypt. He enjoyed the symbolism and rituals of religion and was a spiritual person. The message is so relevant today. As his father Alec Zivatovsky, was a Ukrainian refugee, who managed to escape from Kyiv and granted asylum to the UK in the late 1890’s. The colours continue, and so does the search for freedom and peace as we stand with Ukraine.
Oil and acrylic on canvas
50cm x 50cm
50:50 part 1 & part 2, a diptych based on my late father’s last two paintings which he proudly showed to me in his studio before he became ill. His magnificent cadmium yellow wheat fields and cobalt blue sky, with straw stuck on the foreground. Glued on well, he told me, to repel rodent pals who had tried to eat the straw! After his death, I found his reference image lying on his studio floor. Just a cut up matzah (unleavened bread) box, splattered with his paint. He loved Passover, the Jewish festival about the story of the Exodus of the Jewish people lead out of slavery and hardship in Egypt. He enjoyed the symbolism and rituals of religion and was a spiritual person. The message is so relevant today. As his father Alec Zivatovsky, was a Ukrainian refugee, who managed to escape from Kyiv and granted asylum to the UK in the late 1890’s. The colours continue, and so does the search for freedom and peace as we stand with Ukraine.