We arrived under Murmansk’s polar skies, where winter unfolds in countless shades—sunlit yet fierce, crystalline yet unpredictable. The city greeted us with wind and light, transforming our impressions into vibrant strokes on the canvas of experience. Once again, we followed the Arctic’s artistic trail, each moment and brushstroke forging a bridge between the city and its artists.
Right after landing, many artists headed to a nearby lookout point near our hotel to capture the scene. Their canvases immortalised the Church of the Transfiguration on the Waters and the Lighthouse memorial for sailors lost in peacetime, followed by the rugged beauty of Abram-Mys. Sometimes, we strayed from the plan, painting from the shore during low tide instead of the lookout. When else could we stand where waves usually reign, brushes in hand?
At the Defender of the Soviet Arctic monument, known as Alyosha, we battled gusts of wind, but it was here that a powerful palette of emotions emerged: stark heights, crisp air, and the glimmer of ice on the horizon birthed a new series of works. A colleague’s quip, now a viral VK status, captured it perfectly: “Not every man’s back is a fortress.”
We ventured to the port, where we didn’t just admire but painted the iconic Lenin icebreaker—a titan of ice and time. Stepping inside, we toured its holds, where metal preserves tales of Arctic voyages, infusing our art with gritty romance and technical precision. It was a reminder that the North blends engineering, poetry, and collective creativity.
The weather tested us in the days that followed: blizzards gave way to rain, snow, and fleeting sunlight, sometimes within minutes. Yet, in these shifts, a unique Northern energy sparked. We visited the local art museum to connect with the heritage of Arctic painting and toured the modern icebreaker Siberia. The captain shared stories of its voyages, comparing it to its predecessor from a bygone era, inspiring fresh perspectives for our plein air work.
The journey culminated in Polyarny, where a snowy veil greeted us, brightening the day even under a blizzard. Despite the weather, artists completed multiple paintings. After a hearty lunch, we returned to Murmansk, where a masterclass for children became the heart of the trip. The joy and curiosity of young spectators added vibrant hues to our project’s palette. The exhibition’s opening marked a triumph, launching the next phase of “Arctic as Art,” now taking shape with a growing audience. Over the trip, 70 artworks were created.
A heartfelt thank you to all participants, organisers, and partners—we’ve set the pace, with more routes, meetings, and exhibitions ahead. Subscribe to our blog, share your ideas, and join the conversation. Together, we’ll make the Arctic’s artistry even brighter and bolder.
P.S. As curator, I didn’t get to paint, but the thrill of organising this journey was its own masterpiece.
