The book of photography and drawings by Roman Korovin “Rock” includes an essay by Victor Miziano and a foreword by Ilya Lagutenko in three languages—Latvian, English and Russian.
Limited edition of 500 copies
Softcover
210x245 mm
270 pages
ISBN 978–9934-8361-3-8
No story—no warmth. Even children know that a goodnight wish is not enough if a fairytale is missing. Sasha and Misha make their last maneuver; the red and the yellow win over our body’s ama. The rust on every leg of a bridge runs into a spot of a dawn and after the resurrection thousands of apple moons appear. Korovin has a marvellous ability to weave into the story everyday life: glasses, gloves, chisels, nails… “The poetics of Roman Korovin is assumedly determined by the anti-sublime poetics”—mentions the curator Victor Miziano in the afterword. The artist himself thinks that he’s shooting soulful postcards. “Like a message sent from a phone. It has it’s lightness. A human goes and takes photos. He got up in the morning, went—forrest—saw, bent down. Life is elemental. You are just observing.”
The book of photography and drawings by Roman Korovin “Rock” includes an essay by Victor Miziano and a foreword by Ilya Lagutenko in three languages—Latvian, English and Russian.
Limited edition of 500 copies
Softcover
210x245 mm
270 pages
ISBN 978–9934-8361-3-8
No story—no warmth. Even children know that a goodnight wish is not enough if a fairytale is missing. Sasha and Misha make their last maneuver; the red and the yellow win over our body’s ama. The rust on every leg of a bridge runs into a spot of a dawn and after the resurrection thousands of apple moons appear. Korovin has a marvellous ability to weave into the story everyday life: glasses, gloves, chisels, nails… “The poetics of Roman Korovin is assumedly determined by the anti-sublime poetics”—mentions the curator Victor Miziano in the afterword. The artist himself thinks that he’s shooting soulful postcards. “Like a message sent from a phone. It has it’s lightness. A human goes and takes photos. He got up in the morning, went—forrest—saw, bent down. Life is elemental. You are just observing.”
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