Liudmyla Riabkova is an artist whose art has become a symbol of vitality and emotional resilience. Working in her signature technique of impasto impressionism, she transforms canvases into volumetric worlds filled with light and energy. We spoke with Liudmyla about her creative path, international recognition, and the philosophy of "joy without melancholy."
Liudmyla, your path into art began with a "chance moment" that grew into a real passion. How do you feel: was that first encounter with the brush truly a coincidence, or was it a subconscious response of your soul, which had long been searching for a way to express accumulated emotions?
Looking back now, I believe less and less in coincidences. That first moment was rather a subconscious reaction—as if over time, internal experience, observations, and emotions had accumulated, and at a certain moment, a natural need arose to find a visual form for this. The brush became not a beginning, but a permission—a permission to speak the language of color.
Your mentor Olga Darchuk opened the "world of bright colors" to you. What main professional advice or philosophical thought did you receive from her that still remains an "inner compass" during the creation of new works?
Olga taught me not to be afraid of bright solutions, to work with emotion openly, and to trust intuition in the process. Over time, this turned into an internal guideline that helps to rely on color as an independent tool of expressiveness.
You work with oil and a palette knife, creating volumetric, almost tactile strokes. Do you feel that this impasto technique is a kind of sculptural work on canvas, where color receives not only visual, but also physical weight?
Yes, I truly perceive my technique as a certain form of sculpture on canvas. Every stroke has weight, direction, tension. Color in the impasto technique becomes physical—you want not only to see it, but also to feel it. This enhances the perception of the work and engages the viewer through texture.
Your technique requires a large amount of paint and physical energy. Do you have a certain ritual before starting work on a large canvas, and are there moments when the painting "dictates" its will to you, forcing you to change the palette right in the process of applying a stroke?
Yes, my technique requires physical energy. Before a large canvas, I try to gather internal silence—without unnecessary thoughts, without haste. It is important for me to feel the state from which the first stroke will be born. And yes, it happens that the painting changes the course of the work. I can plan one palette, but in the process I understand: it asks for different light, a different color temperature. In such moments, I trust intuition. Painting is always a dialogue, and sometimes the canvas truly leads.
A special place in your heart is occupied by the portrait of Van Gogh's mother. What did you feel when you breathed color into this image through your own volumetric technique, and do you plan to continue the series of works that reinterpret classical images through the prism of your positive impressionism?
Working on the image of Van Gogh’s mother, I felt deep respect for classical heritage and at the same time inner freedom of interpretation. It was important for me not to reproduce the image literally, but to add warmth and light to it through my own optics and texture. Currently, I do not plan to continue this series. Today, my attention is focused on the “Neon Landscapes” series, in which I work with chromatic abstraction, color rhythm, and spatial solutions. After a professional curatorial analysis of my portfolio, I consciously accepted recommendations regarding the sequence of series development and am now focusing on deepening the chosen direction. For me, painting is a continuous process of research and experiment, where it is important not only to search for new forms, but also to carefully build one’s own artistic trajectory.
You mentioned working on the "Neon Landscapes" series and the transition to chromatic abstraction. Does this mean that your "joyful impressionism" is transforming into something more philosophical, where color and rhythm become more important than the form of the object itself?
The transition to chromatic abstraction is not a rejection of “joyful impressionism,” but its natural continuation. I have always thought in color. Right now, form sometimes recedes to give more space to rhythm, tension, and light. For me, color is not a decoration, but a language. In “Neon Landscapes,” it becomes more independent, sometimes even philosophical. But joy does not disappear anywhere—it simply becomes deeper. It is no longer just the emotion of a moment, but an experience lived through light and contrast.
You have been part of the Global Talent Confederation for over a year now. How has this belonging to an international confederation changed your feeling of yourself as a professional artist, and what key changes in your creative life have occurred during this rich period?
Membership in the Global Talent Confederation became an important stage of professional maturing. I began to perceive myself not just as an artist, but as part of an international art dialogue. More confidence, structurality, a sense of scale, and responsibility for my own voice appeared.
During this year you participated in many creative events. Which events or projects became the most iconic for you in 2024–2025, and how did they affect the recognition of your style on the international stage?
The beginning of a new stage was a large-scale personal exhibition “Embrace with Color” in Kyiv, where more than 100 works cohesively presented my style—bright, textural, and emotional. Iconic were international exhibitions in London, Los Angeles, Spain, Argentina, and New York, which brought my work beyond the local context.
A special place is occupied by participation in the Inside the Piano Gallery project in Manhattan, where my work “KOI Fish” inspired composer Margin Alexander to create an original musical piece. A symbolic entry into global space was the broadcast of the painting “Pears” on Times Square in New York within the Visual Art Journal project. An important recognition of my activity was also the award of the Order of “Ivan Mazepa.” In addition, exceptionally significant is the open-ended exhibition within the “War Generation” project in Buenos Aires near the Embassy of Ukraine, which became part of a long-term cultural dialogue and international support for our state.
The experience of the Inside the Piano Gallery project in New York, where your painting "rang" through the composer's music, is an extraordinary example of dialogue. Did you have a desire to hold a similar multimedia performance in Ukraine, where your impasto canvases would combine with live music or poetry?
The Inside the Piano Gallery project became a very personal and at the same time unexpected experience for me. The initiative was born on the part of the composer: it was music that became the response to my painting. When “KOI Fish” inspired the creation of a separate musical work, I felt that the painting could sound literally—and it was a real dialogue, not a planned performance. Repeating such a format artificially is quite difficult, because such things work only when they arise organically—from the internal impulse of two artists. At the same time, the idea of multimedia interaction in Ukraine is close to me—not as a flashy show, but as a chamber space for deep experience. My impasto canvases have physicality and rhythm, and live music or poetry could not just illustrate them, but enter into an equal dialogue with them.
In November 2025, you became a participant in the ART TOUR Global Talent Confederation in Spain. What were your first impressions of the Spanish sun and architecture, and did these southern contrasts find reflection in your palette already during the tour?
Spain met me with light, rhythm, and architectural boldness. In the very air, freedom and readiness for new, non-standard forms are felt. These contrasts resonated almost immediately in my work: bolder color combinations and more air between forms appeared. Visiting the Picasso and Dalí museums in the circle of like-minded people from the Global Talent Confederation became an important part of this experience, adding new accents to the perception of space and color.
The professional environment often gives an impulse for experiments. Have new ideas or technical solutions appeared in your arsenal after exchanging experiences with colleagues from the Confederation at joint events and art trips?
Communication with colleagues opens new vectors for internal movement and rethought. This experience pushed me to bolder experiments with rhythm, scale, and compositional freedom, allowing me to work more intuitively. My technique at the same time did not change—it became deeper, more precise, and more conscious.
You mentioned the "War Generation" project in Argentina and the Order of Ivan Mazepa. How do you feel: has the mission of your art changed over the past year? Has it become for you a certain form of "soft power" that helps the world better understand the resilience and vitality of the Ukrainian soul?
My mission has not changed, but it has become more conscious. The “War Generation” project and international events showed that art can indeed be a language that is understood without translation. I do not seek to speak with loud declarations. But if my works help someone in the world feel the strength, dignity, and light of Ukrainian culture—that means it is already working. Perhaps this is a form of “soft power”—when you do not convince, but simply create a space for feeling.
You mentioned your "recognizable technique" and a dream to leave your contribution to the history of art. Looking back at successful 2025, what new horizons do you plan to conquer, and should we expect a personal exhibition that will unite your "iconic pears" and new Spanish impressions?
2025 became for me a point of internal awareness of my own recognizability and responsibility for further movement. I clearly felt that my language of color, texture, and emotion is already read by the viewer, and this is what gives courage to transition to more conceptual projects, where not only the image becomes important, but also its deeper meaning. Personal exhibitions are planned at the end of May in the Central House of Artists and at the beginning of November in the Pavlo Tychyna Museum-Apartment in Kyiv. The idea to unite the “iconic pears” with new Spanish impressions is truly close to me—as a kind of dialogue between form, light, and the experience of travel. This will be a continuation of the theme of transformation: familiar images will receive new energy, more sun, space, and bold plastic solutions. Parallelly, I plan active participation in international art projects, art festivals, and charitable initiatives aimed at supporting Ukraine. For me, it is important that art remains not only an aesthetic statement, but also a living form of cultural presence and dialogue with the world.
