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Description

2012, oil on canvas on hardboard, 17,5х27 cm
When the plane had pierced a thick layer of the clouds, making a landing approach, the view on the umber-grey country opened outside the window. It was Romania in November. I saw it this way, probably, because I as a painter was waiting to see its color.
Its capital received us with the dull sky, autumn coolness and concrete walls of the airport with steel lifts. Architecture of Bucharest is a combination of brutal concrete boxes and fine modern, bearing an imprint of time.
In the last day I was feeling a little shivery. I’ve dressed all the cloth which was in the room at the Ady Endre street, went down and sat near the road. Staid with the houses across the street, which were looking at me with their sad eyes-windows, I began to paint their portrait.
www.daniil-belov.com

Description

2012, oil on canvas on hardboard, 17,5х27 cm
When the plane had pierced a thick layer of the clouds, making a landing approach, the view on the umber-grey country opened outside the window. It was Romania in November. I saw it this way, probably, because I as a painter was waiting to see its color.
Its capital received us with the dull sky, autumn coolness and concrete walls of the airport with steel lifts. Architecture of Bucharest is a combination of brutal concrete boxes and fine modern, bearing an imprint of time.
In the last day I was feeling a little shivery. I’ve dressed all the cloth which was in the room at the Ady Endre street, went down and sat near the road. Staid with the houses across the street, which were looking at me with their sad eyes-windows, I began to paint their portrait.
www.daniil-belov.com