Yuri Sherov
Bro

It is a general consensus that naïve art is the exclusive domain of amateurs: they draw or paint as best they can or, more accurately, feel. On the contrary, Primitivism is a style reserved for professionals who intentionally simplify images and forms in an attempt to emulate the soulfulness of folk and child art. Yuri Sherov’s creations are free of the quasi-childish affectations that usually betray professional artists dabbling with Primitivism. A college-trained designer, Yuri did his best to acquire an ‘actual’ vocation – only to ultimately renounce it in favour of painting that had had a strong hold on him since youth. The subdued palette, smartly arranged compositions, and the luminous and aerial perspective of Sherov’s works bear witness to his professionalism.

Residing in Maloyaroslavets, Kaluga Oblast, the artist has made this quaint old town the principle subject of his sympathetic observations. ‘You basically walk down the street and realise that you don’t even need to make things up,’ comments Yuri.

Sherov himself aptly defines his style as ‘social naïve art.’ In keeping with the naïve aesthetic, he transforms the often challenging everyday of the Russian backwaters into an epic story of charmingly unrushed provincial life. Even a quarrel in the local cornershop queue acquires a truly Bruegelian aspect here. Apart from grotesque genre scenes, another feature that Sherov has in common with Pieter Bruegel the Elder is his trademark compositional device, whereby the artist, and subsequently the viewer, observes the goings-on from an elevated viewpoint. The view from above allows one to take in the entire event with all its participants and details.

With poignant nostalgia and humour Sherov paints the ubiquitous five-storey prefabs, tiny wooden cottages, and their dwellers. His characters are omnipresent and archetypal, be it the hapless drunkards, bored policemen, energetic retirees, allotment gardeners, Russian beauties, and of course mermaids traditionally present in naïve art.

Yuri Sherov’s pictures reward unhurried scrutiny, revealing countless details of the provincial life, mores, and fashions. Each artwork is a world of its own, replete with Easter eggs generously strewn by the artist: Alexander Pushkin wearing a T-shirt with a quote from Yevgeniy Yevtushenko holds on to a pet carrier containing the famed learned cat; an old lady with an obvious soft spot for branded clothing and bags struts boldly and self-confidently across the neighbourhood; slanting poles with torn utility lines broodingly mark the way towards a settlement which has long since been going without electricity. All the humour and poetry here is in the little details like scribblings and tattoos.

Yuri Sherov’s exhibition was named after the eponymous series of paintings depicting various exploits of drinking buddies. Its Russian title employs a playful distortion of the Italian world fratello dating from the 1990s. 

Supported by: