Anka zhuravleva biography examples

World of the Art Bunny

I’m tired as hell right now, but I stumbled upon this:

Like, how are you supposed to ignore that? I had to share.

Anka Zhuravleva was born in Moscow, spending the earlier years of her art career working as a tattoo artist. She painted for a bit and finally ventured into photography in 2006. Her latest focal point: levitation.

All these photographs come from her Distorted Gravity collection, except for the one with the girl immersed in a spray of bunnies. That one comes from a previous series, Color Tales.

Aren’t these shots stunning? And the two that are especially bunny-rific!?

These shots remind me of Natsumi Hayashi, but I think that Zhuravleva has a more romanticized, stage-like approach to her photography. Also, being a fairytale addict, I have to suggest that there is a fairytale element in this particular series. The photos are enchanting yet mysterious and haunting. I’m delighted yet a little bit hesitant. Even the colors range from light to dark. Let’s just say these shots are a prettier version of the Brother’s Grimm. Still, at the end of the day, I just don’t quite know how to feel about Distorted Gravity. I’m in some kind of trap; I’m lured but I’m letting myself be lured. I’m Hansel and Gretel. In that modern, photographic sense.

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  • Anka Zhuravleva


    Anka (born Anna Belova) was born on December 4, 1980. She spent her childhood with books on art and her mothers’ drawing tools, covering acres of paper with her drawings. In 1997 she entered the Moscow Architectural Institute deciding to follow in her mothers’ footsteps. But at the end of 1997 her mother was diagnosed with cancer and died in less that a year. Then her father died in 1999. After that Anka’s life changed dramatically. In attempt to keep sane, she plunged into an alternative lifestyle – working as a tattoo artist, singing in a rock-band, sometimes looking for escape in alcohol. In order to make a living while studying, Anka worked at several modeling agencies.

    Thanks to the drawing lessons she wasn’t afraid to pose nude, and her photos appeared in the Playboyand XXL magazinesand at the Playboy 1999photo exhibition. But she was not looking for a modeling career – it was just a way to make some money. In 2001 Anka was working in the post-production department at the Mosfilm StudiosThat same winter one of her colleagues invited her to spend a weekend in Saint-Petersburg with his friend, composer and musician Alexander Zhuravlev. In less than a month Anka said farewell to Moscow, her friends, her Mosfilm career and moved in with Alexander in Saint-Petersburg. Living with her loved one healed her soul, and she regained the urge for painting. She made several graphic works and ventured into other areas of visual arts.

    In 2002 Gavriil Lubnin, the famous painter and her husband’s friend, showed her the oil painting technique, which she experimented with for the following several years. During that period she made just a few works because each one required unleashing of a serious emotional charge. All those paintings are different as if created by different people. Anka’s first exhibition took place on a local TV channel live on the air - the studio was decorated with her works. Several exhibitions followed. Private collections in
  • Anka was born on December
  • photograph by (c) Anka Zhuravleva,
    all rights reserved by photographer
    It has mostly been my life experience to find soul-mates after they have died.  T.S. Eliot, for example.  I remember reading his work in college, falling head over his words, and then having to come to terms with the fact that he was, in fact, dead.  It happened again when I watched Ingmar Bergman's Through a Glass Darkly, and then continued to watch all of his films.  He had not died yet, but I could not think of what to write to him on a postcard.  But then he died, as people tend to do.

    I don't know how I came across Anka Zhuravleva's photographs, but I did recently, and I think we have a similar vision of the world.  Or, at least, I recognize in her vision something of my own.  I suppose that's one sign of a great artist . . . making it sort of impossible for anyone not to see themselves in the vision.

    In her bio, she notes the deaths of her parents, within two years of each other, when she was a young woman.  Perhaps, then, that's what I share with her.  Perhaps there's something that happens, when that happens, if it happens at just the right time in a persons's life, and that person already had tendencies to imagine herself away. . . Maybe that's what I see in her work that makes it seem to me that she has shown me a photograph she took of my nightmare last night, and of my dream by day.

    Regardless, her work has a disjointedness about it that I enjoy.  The way she shows the impossibility of reality by showing what it can't do.  To show how impossibly grounded the world is by showing the wishes.  To show the limits of the body by showing images of the body in motion, the body outside of gravity, the body moved by the unseen that isn't. The photograph's attempt to capture the can't-be, as though it did catch it, like you will hear suddenly the voice of a long-dead friend saying your name, and you turn to it

    World of the Art Bunny

    I’m tired as hell right now, but I stumbled upon this:

    Like, how are you supposed to ignore that? I had to share.

    Anka Zhuravleva was born in Moscow, spending the earlier years of her art career working as a tattoo artist. She painted for a bit and finally ventured into photography in 2006. Her latest focal point: levitation.

    All these photographs come from her Distorted Gravity collection, except for the one with the girl immersed in a spray of bunnies. That one comes from a previous series, Color Tales.

    Aren’t these shots stunning? And the two that are especially bunny-rific!?

    These shots remind me of Natsumi Hayashi, but I think that Zhuravleva has a more romanticized, stage-like approach to her photography. Also, being a fairytale addict, I have to suggest that there is a fairytale element in this particular series. The photos are enchanting yet mysterious and haunting. I’m delighted yet a little bit hesitant. Even the colors range from light to dark. Let’s just say these shots are a prettier version of the Brother’s Grimm. Still, at the end of the day, I just don’t quite know how to feel about Distorted Gravity. I’m in some kind of trap; I’m lured but I’m letting myself be lured. I’m Hansel and Gretel. In that modern, photographic sense.