Fissura. Diptych
Acrylic, Pigments on Canvas
24x24in
$2,010
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Natalia Tykhoniuk
Switzerland
Related collection
What the Surface Knows
20 pieces
Artist highlights
- Favorited by galleries
- Featured in gallery curations
- Works on commission
Other artworks by Natalia Tykhoniuk
Artwork details
- Medium : Acrylic, Paper Without Stand
- Dimensions : Length: 11.8in, Height: 11.8in, Depth: 1.6in
About this artwork
Dunas is my sculptural meditation on movement shaped by silence — a wall-born form echoing the soft erosion of dunes and sedimented coastlines.
Hand-shaped from paper clay with layered relief, this piece carries the quiet rhythm of wind and water. Its surface holds gentle undulations, subtle ridges, and mineral memory — catching light like breath across land.
Part of my evolving collection Mur Vitae, Dunas speaks the natural language of stillness… — raw, imperfect, essential. Every curve and fold reflects a terrain shaped not by design, but by time and air.
The muted, matte finish invites touch and rest. This is not a decorative element, but a sculptural presence — resonating with interiors that value tactility, quiet, and soul.
Dunas is a fragment of coastal earth, reimagined. A story carved in silence, and held in form.
Hand-shaped from paper clay with layered relief, this piece carries the quiet rhythm of wind and water. Its surface holds gentle undulations, subtle ridges, and mineral memory — catching light like breath across land.
Part of my evolving collection Mur Vitae, Dunas speaks the natural language of stillness… — raw, imperfect, essential. Every curve and fold reflects a terrain shaped not by design, but by time and air.
The muted, matte finish invites touch and rest. This is not a decorative element, but a sculptural presence — resonating with interiors that value tactility, quiet, and soul.
Dunas is a fragment of coastal earth, reimagined. A story carved in silence, and held in form.
Natalia Tykhoniuk
Switzerland
Credentials
- Favorited by galleries
- Featured in gallery curations
- Works on commission
I was born in a city that no longer exists as it was. Mariupol — once sea and sand, now ash and absence. Yet even what disappears leaves its trace. That trace is what I follow.
I live now in Zurich, but my hands still carry the earth of elsewhere. I grind straw, soil, bark, ash into matter that resists beauty. These are not materials chosen—they are what remains.
I am close to Arte Povera, because in the poverty of matter lies genius: the truth that nothing is too small to hold memory. I am close to wabi-sabi, because time itself writes through imperfection, through cracks, through silence.
My vessels and wall pieces are not objects. They are witnesses. Companions of dust and silence. Fragile, yet enduring. They stay when all else is gone.
I live now in Zurich, but my hands still carry the earth of elsewhere. I grind straw, soil, bark, ash into matter that resists beauty. These are not materials chosen—they are what remains.
I am close to Arte Povera, because in the poverty of matter lies genius: the truth that nothing is too small to hold memory. I am close to wabi-sabi, because time itself writes through imperfection, through cracks, through silence.
My vessels and wall pieces are not objects. They are witnesses. Companions of dust and silence. Fragile, yet enduring. They stay when all else is gone.
