Museum copy "Portrait of a Boy" (2006) Schilderij door Pavel Bunas

“Master of Portraits That Breathe” (A Biography Written in Paint)

How a Blue Crow Gifted Me the Universe
At five years old, I drew a bird. Not just any bird—a blue crow on a scrap of wallpaper. My mother cried. Not from delight—she thought I was colorblind. But for me, it became the first lesson: art must stir a storm, even if it’s a hurricane of misunderstandings.

From then on, I never let go of my pencil. Dragons from children’s books, the faces of kindergarten teachers, clouds outside the window — I “digested” them all in sketchbooks like an alchemist seeking the formula for perfection. My parents gave up: at seven, I entered art school, where instead of primers, I studied Rembrandt.

Apprenticeship to the Rhythm of Commuter Trains
Glebovskoe School. Here, I discovered that people are the finest “landscapes.” Every morning, I rode to class in a packed train, turning the carriage into a laboratory. Passengers never suspected their wrinkles, smiles, and gestures were becoming sketches. I absorbed them like a sponge, then blended them with the ancient science of Ninsho-Goku — the art of face-reading practiced by Kyoto’s geishas. My secret? I don’t paint portraits. I decipher them.
— A wrinkle at the temple: the trace of sleepless contemplation.
— A spark in the eyes: an unspoken dream.
— Uneven lipstick: haste before an important meeting.

Teachers threatened expulsion for failing history but turned a blind eye when I exhibited portraits. “These aren’t paintings”, one said. “These are confessions”.

The Academy, or When Masterpieces Become Neighbors
At the Art Academy, I lived on two floors:
1. First floor — the studio, where I copied Vrubel and Serov. Sometimes, I felt the ghosts of masters standing behind me, nodding: “Don’t be afraid. Steal from us. But make it better.”
2. Second floor—reality. Exhibitions where strangers approached and said: “Paint my daughter. She’s gone, but I want her to live here.”

That’s when I understood: my paintings are not decorations. They are bridges between worlds.
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P.S. If you’ve read this far—you’re ready for a dialogue. Let’s create not just a painting — an artifact that will outlive us.
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Your artist,
Pavel Bunas

• Nationaliteit: BELARUS
• Geboortedatum : 1983
• Artistieke domeinen: Werken van professionele kunstenaars,
• Groepen: Professionele artiest Hedendaagse Wit-Russische Kunstenaars