‘Humour is foundational’: artist Ella Kruglyanskaya on painting as a ‘highly questionable’ pursuit

Latvia-born, New York-based artist Ella Kruglyanskaya reframes and rethinks the art history canon, intertwining references to techniques and movements throughout a series of new paintings. In the first of a series of three exhibitions, the first currently at London’s Thomas Dane Gallery, followed by Contemporary Fine Arts in Basel and Bortolami Gallery in New York, Kruglyanskaya considers those who have influenced her practice throughout her career.

Often humorous and occasionally tongue-in-cheek, Kruglyanskaya considers social interactions in all their absurdity, layering familiar tropes with a classical comedy. Here, she tells us what role humour has for her, why she enjoys the act of painting and how she wouldn’t describe her references as ‘eclectic’.

Ella Kruglyanskaya on her paintings

Wallpaper*: Your works are a glorious juxtaposition of references, from the classical to the cartoonish. What inspires you to draw on an eclectic assortment?

Ella Kruglyanskaya: I don’t use the word ‘eclectic’ with myself, but I do live in the world, which feels like a cluster fuck, I suppose that’s what you’re referring to. The absolute dissolution of stand-alone forms, the complete atomisation of aesthetic subjectivity. I find myself scavenging through a collapsed hierarchy trying on various bits for size, seeing what fits and both the positive and the negative of this ‘anything goes’ predicament seems to be one and the same, well… anything goes, kind of? There’s a certain freedom in that. Let’s mine that for gold.

W*: Your works can portray the unsettling edge to domestic scenes. What is it about the quotidian – domesticity, food preparation, interiors – which fascinates you?

EK: It’s such a surprising question – I had to ask someone to help me see what paintings you are referring to in the show; we thought perhaps Lemondrama (After Manet) was the culprit? It is a funny one (I hope), depicting a lush still life with lemons and knife (food preparation? Ditto) and a dead matador in the background (portraying an unsettling edge to the whole lemony scene? Maybe?). I am not fascinated by the quotidian per se, but it can be momentarily fascinating how the act of painting a likeness of something can be fully absorbing, a world unto itself. We are far away from the innocence of those historic still lifes and paintings of domestic scenes, paintings that referred to the ‘things’ in themselves (more or less). Nowadays painted things always, by necessity, refer to earlier paintings of those things.

W*: My attitude towards things I paint is more relaxed. I take pleasure in a squinting observation. I don’t study too hard, I let things slip. Everything is a bit in passing. An ongoing approximation. Yet there is a specificity there, some tension is created. I don’t want to be caught ‘working too hard’ as it would seem like I’m proud of my painterly labour, but lately I’ve decided that humility is the way to go, not pride. Also, everyone can paint so well these days, so what’s the point of competing? My only ‘pride’ is how little time I spend looking at content on screens. I am trying to set some invisible record which in itself will be unpublished and unknown only to add to my private pride.

A careful viewer will see the discussions I conduct in paint and brushstroke on what constitutes ‘finished’. I invite everyone to weigh in (sort of, not really, as of course I am the decider, which is where the fun lies), feel free to judge! Or maybe I’m like those YouTube creators who show you how to spend hours on make-up that looks like you have nothing on. That exists, right? What is ‘effortlessness’ but some right balance of effort and mastery, yet none of it should look easy.

W*: What role does humour have in your work?

EK: Explaining the joke would kill it, but I will admit that humour is foundational. To begin with, the activity of painting is highly questionable, taken as a serious pursuit. Already, there’s hilarity to be found there. Here we are, a quarter into the 21st century and the old rules finally really do not apply, after a very long slope of it all going in that direction. So, I guess the only thing to do is to examine what still applies, what drives the creation of these things we make? I work alone in the studio; I must have a conversation with myself, and this conversation has to be somewhat amusing, otherwise what the hell?

W*: Is there anything else you would like to share about the body of work on view at Thomas Dane Gallery, or about your upcoming exhibitions this year in Basel and New York?

EK: I decided to do these three shows in a row (in London, Contemporary Fine Arts in Basel and Bortolami Gallery in New York, all in 2025) as a ‘trilogy’. There is a loose thread going through, that of a movement of contraction, receding, stepping aside. The first part at Thomas Dane Gallery is called ‘Shadows’ and the last will probably be ‘Folds’. The middle part is still a mystery to me, though it will be revealed soon.

Also I have an artist book coming out this spring, with an essay by Alissa Bennett. It’s called Too Much and it chronicles the last four years of work, with fictional letters to the reader and selected writings that were important to me at that time.

'Shadows' is at Thomas Dane Gallery, London until 3 May 2025

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