VYACHESLAV KOROLENKOV. Thinking Like a Painter

Vyacheslav Korolenkov was born in Tula, one of Russia's oldest historic cities, situated approximately 180 kilometres south of Moscow. It was here that his fascination with drawing first took shape. In one interview he recalls copying a reproduction of the Venus de Milo from a magazine while still at school. His classmates gathered around his desk, and a notoriously strict deputy headteacher, instead of reprimanding him, quietly praised the drawing. It was a small moment, yet one that remained with him—a first indication that art would become something far more significant than a childhood pastime.

His artistic education began in Tula and continued in Moscow, where he studied at the Stroganov Moscow State Academy of Arts and Industry, one of Russia's leading institutions for art and design. There he received the rigorous academic training that still underpins his work today: drawing, composition, the construction of form and sustained observation from life.
Yet Korolenkov has never regarded academic training as an end in itself. For him, it provides the foundation upon which genuine artistic freedom can be built. A painter must first understand structure before allowing instinct to take over. Technical confidence is valuable only when it serves perception rather than replacing it. 

This idea lies at the very centre of Vyacheslav Korolenkov's philosophy of painting. Technical ability can be developed through discipline and practice, but genuine artistic progress depends on something far more fundamental: learning to perceive the world with greater clarity, sensitivity and understanding. One of his best-known observations is deliberately provocative: "An artist should train the brain rather than the hand." Behind this simple statement lies years of experience. The hand can only paint what the eye has already recognised and the mind has already understood. Without perception, technique becomes mechanical; without thought, even virtuosity risks becoming little more than habit. Drawing therefore occupies a unique place in his approach. It is not merely an academic exercise or a preliminary stage before painting begins. It is a way of understanding reality. Through drawing, the artist discovers the structure of form, the rhythm of proportions, the movement within a figure and the relationships that bind an object together. It teaches observation before expression.

Korolenkov often reminds his students that the greatest challenge is not learning how to draw every detail but recognising which details truly matter. Seeing is an act of selection. Every painting requires the artist to decide what should remain, what can be simplified and what may be omitted altogether in order to preserve the integrity of the whole. 

His paintings reveal a rare balance between discipline and spontaneity. Strong construction allows the brushwork to remain open, expressive and immediate. Forms may be simplified, edges softened and details reduced, yet the underlying structure always holds the image together. Freedom, in this sense, is never accidental. It is made possible by knowledge. Korolenkov works across landscape, still life, portraiture and the human figure, approaching each subject with the same fundamental question: not what does it look like, but how does it exist in light? Rather than describing objects individually, he seeks to reveal the atmosphere that connects them. A landscape becomes a study of air and distance; a still life explores the dialogue between colour, texture and illumination; a portrait grows from the rhythms of form rather than superficial likeness alone. 

Among the painters to whom he repeatedly returns are Konstantin Korovin, Valentin Serov and Nikolai Fechin. 

Throughout his lectures and interviews, Korolenkov returns to one recurring idea: every painting should pose a question rather than confirm an answer. That question may concern colour, composition, light or the structure of form, but it must remain alive throughout the entire process. Once the artist believes he already knows exactly how the painting will unfold, curiosity disappears—and with it, much of the painting's vitality.

This attitude explains his reluctance to rely on formulas. There is no universal method capable of solving every pictorial problem. Each landscape, portrait or still life demands its own visual language, determined by the particular conditions of light, atmosphere and form. What worked yesterday may be entirely inappropriate today. The same principle shapes his understanding of artistic success. Recognition, exhibitions and public appreciation are deeply valued, yet they cannot become the driving force behind creative work. If the desire to satisfy expectations begins to outweigh the desire to discover something new, painting risks becoming predictable—even to the artist himself. For Korolenkov, uncertainty is not a weakness but an essential part of artistic practice. Every new canvas begins with the acceptance that its final outcome cannot be fully known in advance. Decisions are tested, reconsidered and, when necessary, abandoned altogether. A painting develops through observation and response rather than through the execution of a predetermined plan.

His workshops differ noticeably from conventional demonstrations of technique. Although practical skills are always present, they are never treated as isolated exercises. Every discussion of brushwork, colour or composition leads back to a more fundamental question: Why does this solution work? Understanding always takes precedence over imitation.

Rather than encouraging students to reproduce his own paintings, Korolenkov seeks to cultivate independent ways of thinking. Observation, comparison and analysis become more important than copying visible results. Students are encouraged to understand the reasoning behind every decision, enabling them to solve new pictorial problems for themselves instead of relying on memorised formulas. 

Questions occupy a central place in his teaching. Why should one edge remain sharp while another dissolves? Why does a particular colour appear convincing in one context but fail completely in another? How can simplification strengthen an image rather than weaken it? Such discussions transform practical instruction into a broader exploration of visual thinking. 

Today, Vyacheslav Korolenkov continues to divide his time between the studio, the landscape and the classroom. These are not separate aspects of his career but different expressions of the same lifelong commitment to painting. Each informs the others. A painting raises new questions; teaching encourages him to articulate them more clearly; dialogue with students often leads back to the easel with renewed insight. 

Despite decades of professional experience, Korolenkov speaks about painting with the curiosity of someone who still considers himself a student. Recognition has never diminished his desire to question familiar solutions or to challenge his own understanding. Every exhibition, every workshop and every new painting represents another stage in an ongoing dialogue with painting itself. 

Those encountering his work for the first time often notice its freshness: confident brushwork, luminous colour and a remarkable sense of atmosphere. Yet beneath this apparent spontaneity lies years of disciplined observation, rigorous drawing and thoughtful analysis. Freedom, in Korolenkov's painting, is never accidental; it is the result of knowledge patiently acquired and continually tested against life. His work reminds us that painting is not simply about recording appearances. It is about understanding relationships—between light and colour, form and space, observation and memory. Above all, it is about remaining open to discovery, regardless of experience or achievement. 

"How do we learn to see?"

The question that opens this essay remains unanswered—and perhaps that is precisely the point.
For Vyacheslav Korolenkov, painting offers no definitive conclusions. Every finished canvas becomes the beginning of another conversation. Every new landscape, portrait or still life presents another opportunity to look more carefully, to question familiar assumptions and to deepen one's understanding of the visible world. 

Throughout his career—as a painter, teacher and lecturer—he has consistently returned to the same belief: artistic development depends not on accumulating techniques, but on transforming perception. Skill may be learned, experience may be gained, but the ability to see continues to evolve throughout a lifetime. This philosophy explains both the character of his paintings and the generosity with which he shares his experience. His aim has never been to create followers who paint in his manner. Instead, he encourages artists to develop an independent way of seeing—to ask better questions, to trust direct observation and to remain intellectually curious. 

Perhaps this is the most enduring lesson to be found in his work.

Painting is not a destination but a lifelong practice of looking more deeply.

And learning to see is a journey that never truly ends.

Exhibitions have long been an essential part of Vyacheslav Korolenkov's professional life. Alongside his studio practice, he has consistently presented his work in solo and group exhibitions, regarding each exhibition not simply as an opportunity to display finished paintings but as another stage in an ongoing artistic dialogue. 

His work has been exhibited extensively in Russia and internationally. Over the years he has participated in numerous major exhibition projects, including presentations at Moscow's Central House of Artists and international exhibitions in Europe. His paintings have also been shown in galleries and museums, reflecting the growing international recognition of his work. 

International plein-air projects have become equally important to his artistic practice. Working in different countries allows him to encounter new landscapes, unfamiliar architecture and changing qualities of light. Rather than searching for spectacular motifs, he approaches each new place with the same attentive curiosity, allowing direct observation to shape the painting instead of preconceived ideas. Korolenkov has also taught widely beyond Russia, leading workshops and painting courses for artists from many different countries. These international programmes have become an extension of his own artistic practice, creating opportunities for dialogue between painters working within different cultural traditions while sharing the same commitment to observation from life. 

Today his paintings are held in private collections across Russia, Europe, Japan and the United States. Yet public recognition has never become the goal of his work. Exhibitions, awards and collections are important milestones, but they remain the result of a lifelong dedication to painting rather than its purpose.