Oleksandra Martson
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
Oleksandra Martson was born in Ukraine and is now based in London. She worked in design for years and returned to painting in 2022, after the war started in Ukraine. Her Sleeping series started there, from sketches about sleeping through air raid sirens. She paints in oil and charcoal on clear primed linen, mostly figures in bed. Her work is in the Museum of Kyiv and has been longlisted three times for the Kramer Portrait Award at the National Portrait Gallery.
Q: You had a career in design before relaunching as an artist in London in 2022. What made you take that step?
A: The beginning of the full-scale war in Ukraine in 2022 radically changed my life. I found myself in London questioning my previous path. The shift into art wasn't just a career relaunch but a way to rebuild myself. When I returned to painting it felt like there hadn't been a long pause.
Like many, I was exposed to constant images of violence. My way of coping was making my art, picturing figures with arms outstretched. I created the new context by adding bedding to the painting and now suddenly it looked like a peaceful sleeping scene.
Q: The Sleeping series started during the first months of the war in Kyiv. How did those paintings begin?
A: I began researching the connection between sleep and death in 2021, amid growing anxiety in Kyiv, and it became the ground for the Sleeping series later.
In 2022 I created sketches and small-scale works about sleeping through air defence sirens. People in
Ukraine still face it almost nightly. It is a very difficult experience, a sense of threat mixed with inability to move. There is a choice between going to a cold bomb shelter or staying in bed that feels known and illusory safe.
Q: You work on clear primed linen with charcoal and oil together. How did that technique develop?
A: Both materials are traditional and were used by old masters for centuries. Linen is earthy; it gives a beautiful neutral soft undertone to a painting. Charcoal is immediate, bold and can lead the artist.
Historically, charcoal was widely used for drawing, often as a preparatory tool. Advances of modern primers and fixatives let me bring them together on the same surface. I continue experimenting and stay with the media that serves my practice best.
Q: Your works are in the Museum of Kyiv and in private collections in Ukraine. What does it mean to you that the work lives in Ukraine?
A: It is an honour to have my work in the Museum of Kyiv and in private collections in Ukraine. For me it confirms that the work resonates within its cultural context. Besides the European and UK shows, I try to have a couple of shows in Ukrainian galleries and institutions. As an artist who reflects on war while being physically outside the country, I try to use the right optics not to trigger personal trauma.
Q: You mix painterly and graphic approaches on the same canvas. Where does that graphic instinct come from?
A: The graphic element in my work is partly rooted in my background in design. I find that working in a graphic manner gives more structure to the work and to my thinking process at the same time. In moments when I need more inner support and structure, I find myself adding more graphic detail to my works.
Q: What do you envision for the next few years?
A: Planning for the future feels increasingly difficult today. Unwillingly I extrapolate negative experiences. Certainty became scarce. I try to stay grounded by focusing on my practice. I have an ambition to present my Contemporary Landscape series as a complete body of work, as it has only been shown in parts so far, including individual pieces at the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition.
