When looking through the netted silhouettes, four vertical screens become apparent,
which are five-feet tall and covered by translucent plastic, painted by Koshlyakov in
chaotic brush strokes and acrylic drips, and devised as an integral part of the installation. Tossed tones of brown, blue and gray simulate the natural collisions that bring to mind either a cyclonic seascape or a scene of urban collapse.
By setting up deliberate tensions between the mediums of painting and sculpture, the artist takes his ongoing patronage of avantgarde ideals to another level. Koshlyakov works in a similar vein to the Soviet artists Alexander Brodsky and Ilya Utkin. But unlike these so-called “paper” architects, who suffered the fate of Tatlin’s discarded or unrealized structures, Koshlyakov was able to build every design he ever dreamed of. The artist’s dreams about classical ideals during the ruthless ’90s brought him recognition: he made architectural objects, temples and bridges, out of cardboard and masking tape. These were the monuments for a limp but grand experiment. Now, living in Paris, Koshlyakov sources his themes from an old grandeur of Europe. The artist abandoned the fugitive materials for the sophisticated
metal nettings of “Unreachable.” His vision of true beauty remains unreachable when obstructed by the historical storms.