Yulia Iosilzon’s Modus Operandi

Painting on translucent silks using a soak staining technique, Yulia Iosilzon (b. 1992, Russia) depicts otherworldly figures that dance across kaleidoscopic canvases. Weaving together fantasy, theatrical narratives and art historical references, Yulia creates dreamlike worlds akin to a portal to another universe that beckons the viewer to step into. The artist repeats symbols and motifs from nature throughout her artwork, which is laden with vibrant washes of jewel-like colours. Her scenes which recall whimsical childhood memories defy a straightforward reading. Containing classical symbolism and mythical motifs, Yulia’s work builds up a unique iconography which she uses to reflect on personal, social and political issues.

Yulia Iosilzon completed a Foundation in Art and Design at Camberwell College of Art, before gaining a Fine Art BA from the Slade School of Fine Art, and later a Fine Art MA from the Royal College of Art. Iosilzon has exhibited internationally, recent solo exhibitions include Berntson Bhattacharjee Gallery, London (2024); Carvalho Park, New York (2023); Sapling, London (2022), De Brock, Knokke (2022); Foundry Seoul (2022); Bernston Bhattacherjee, Stockholm (2021); Huxley Parlour, London (2021), and Osnova, Moscow (2020). She received the prestigious Bloomberg New Contemporaries award in 2019, and the Audrey Wykeham Prize in 2016.

Can you tell me about your background and how you became an artist?

I was born in Moscow, and at a young age I was encouraged to try arts and crafts, as well as music. I finished music school - I can play the piano, the guitar, and the flute. But at a certain age, my parents decided it would be best if I came to London to become independent and develop my own path. I think if I didn’t do this, my parents might have talked me into becoming a lawyer!

When I came to London, I did my foundation at Camberwell, followed by Slade and then the RCA for my Masters. At Slade, I developed my love for colours. When I was writing my thesis at Slade about Mark Rothko, I read a lot of his son’s interviews. Apparently Rothko always listened to Mozart when he painted, and this made so much sense to me.

I love that every work of yours is akin to a portal to another world. From where do you draw inspiration for your imaginary characters and colourful narratives? Can you describe your creative process?

I love Studio Ghibli cartoons as well as universal mythologies. But mostly, these characters come from my imagination.

I make sketches for each work with colour pencils. I tend to plan the geometry of the painting and the face expressions of my figures. I do this with colour pencils because they’re really quick and forgiving. Then, I think about the colours that I would like to bring to life.

Once I create the figures and forms, they just lead their own life and interact on their own within the composition. As long as the paintings are geometrical, symmetrical, and harmonious, I leave the forms to interact in these worlds of their own on my canvases.

Heaven’s Chambers, Carvalho Park, New York (15 April - 20 May 2023)

Your whimsical, dreamlike paintings contain joyous imagery and mystical motifs from nature - your previous series had dancing mushrooms, while this one contains snail motifs. What inspired you to paint snails?

I first thought of using the snail in my works when I went to the Venice Biennale Milk of Dreams in 2022. For the Belgian pavilion, Francis Alÿs created a video artwork showing the different games that children play in different countries and cultures. One of the games was a snail race: kids would colour snails in different colours and then race them. I found this game quite funny, and I was enchanted by the snails - each had a different colour and looked so unusual and beautiful. I thought to myself then, that I needed to incorporate these magnificent snails in my paintings.

Since then, I’ve spent a lot of time researching and thinking about snails. They move slowly but steadily, leaving a beautiful, glossy trail behind them. They are quite aesthetically pleasing to look at, as they just go about their days slowly, not harming anyone.

I love the spiral shapes on snail’s shells. There is not a beginning or an end. It’s a really beautiful shape - it's like a maze, or a metaphor for a journey: whenever you start your journey, you just have to keep moving and spiralling forward and not stop. I think this is my mindset as someone who has always moved from one place to another. With every challenge that has come my way, I have always just kept moving along. I feel like with no challenges, there's no growth, so you just have to move, move, move.

Snails relate to the history of my family, which has always moved from one place to another. The title of my solo exhibition is Modus Operandi. So I think the snail motif relates to the modus operandi of someone who migrates to different places - the mentality of dislocating yourself from a familiar place, but always carrying a home within yourself, within your family. I've rarely ever seen snails moving on their own - they usually move with their family so snails are also about unity. I was also thinking about that when I wanted to paint snails - they are truly magical creatures to me.

Has becoming a mother influenced you as an artist?

Yes, even from a mother's perspective, the snail motif contains so much more meaning. I feel like I hold a metaphorical sort of home within me, like a snail that carries its home on its back. At this point, I'm all that my child needs - so to him, I am like the snail - I contain his home. Maybe I don't have a shell, but it's more of a mental shell that he leans on and that he finds comforting, just as a snail finds comfort in its shell, in the house of its body.

How do you go about choosing your colour palette?

I usually make two types of works - some in more saturated colours and the others in softer palettes. I always first create the works in stronger colours because I need to feed my eyes with the more playful tones before I can move onto more subtle, softer colours. It has something to do with the need to let them out of my system. Only then can I close the door behind and move onto painting in dreamier colours.

I am extremely specific when it comes to colour. For example, it was really important that the pink in this work was not a Peppa Pig pink, or a naive pink, or a peachy pink - it had to be this beautiful, translucent blush pink!

Colour is everything - the way you mix the colours and the way it sits on the painting. The repetition of different tones and colours is something I often do in my paintings.

The unique choice of painting on translucent silks is a defining feature of your practice. How has your practice developed in the past couple of years?

I am painting in way more layers than I used to, and I also wanted my calligraphy to become more linear and sharper in this body of work.

With the previous works, it was around 15 layers. Now it's around 30 or 35 - I’ve lost count. The thicker layers make it so difficult to manage my time as it takes so long to dry!

How do I know when a painting is done?

When it looks well balanced. When it looks like it’s a world that feels comfortable for me to step into.

Are there any artists who have especially inspired you?

Kusama and I share consistent repetition of shapes and forms, especially her installations with magical, colourful dots. They are like portals to other worlds. That’s how I wanted my works to feel. But I am also inspired by Helen Frankenthaler’s use of softer, pastel colour palettes, as well as printing and painting on translucent silks. I love Leonora Fini, who painted anthropomorphic figures, which I love to paint because I relate so much to the idea that we can become anthropomorphic figures. When I wake up at 6:30am every morning, I become an octopus with 8 tentacles doing 8 different things - feeding the dog, taking the dog out for a walk, feeding Felix, making sure everything is done before I head into the studio.