Thresholds and Transitions

Block 1

(silence as the interval between “was” and “will be”) - a space between “was” and “will be,” a moment of inner stillness when the step is ready but not yet taken. Here, silence is not emptiness but a charged interval where time does not flow — it gathers in layers. Stone holds the imprint of steps made long before us, water remembers reflections that no longer exist, and steam suspended in the winter air binds the past to what is yet to come. These works lead the viewer through inner passages — from a city that speaks in a whisper to bridges beyond which the unknown begins. This is not about geography, but about the quiet consent to move forward, when the road has already become a part of you.

Through Time

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

An arch and a stone staircase — like a frozen frame from an inner journey. Here, time does not flow but layers itself: every step taken decades before us can be heard in the roughness of the stone. The light breaking through from the depths does not lure like a call, but exists as a fact: it will be there tomorrow, and a hundred years from now. The threshold becomes a mirror: you are still here, but already on your way. This is a place about a choice made not with one’s feet, but with inner consent.

Layer Levels

Oil on Canvas | 18” x 12”

The narrowing space of arches and walls draws you into your own breath. There are no distracting horizons here — only a narrow opening leading to light. Stone walls, saturated with the moisture of centuries, speak of endurance. This is not a path in the usual sense, but a slow process of “drilling” meaning, layer by layer, until you reach your own core. Here, silence is compressed time: it does not run, it ripens.

The Whisper of Departure

Mixed Media | 20” x 24”

A steam train in a winter field is in no hurry — as if it knows that the most important has already happened, or may still happen. The steam, dense and almost tangible, slowly dissolves into the cold air, like thoughts that only yesterday refused to leave you alone. Everything around is sharpened by whiteness: snow emphasizes the clarity of form, frost makes sounds transparent. There is no crowd, no noisy farewells — only an inner dialogue between the past and the future. This is the moment when the road has not yet begun, but is already irreversible.

Romance In Paris

Oil on Canvas | 24” x 18”

A rainy Paris, stripped of its usual tourist bustle, turns into an intimate theater. The asphalt mirrors umbrellas, and the sky and ground merge into a single gray breath. This is a city that usually shouts, but today speaks softly, almost in a whisper. And in this muting, what noise concealed becomes visible: the fragility of a gesture, the softness of a glance, the value of what lasts only a moment.

Take Me to Venice

Oil on Canvas | 22” x 16”

A canal — like a vein of the old city through which life still moves. The light in the water seems internal, as if born not from the sun but from the memory of it. Crossing this narrow bridge is not merely a step in space, but a crossing of the boundary between the familiar and the unknown. Here, silence is trust in the road that knows more about you than you do yourself.

Block 2 | Water as Memory →

Alexei Butirskiy

Alexei Butirskiy Is a classically trained artist who studied at one of the world’s most prestigious art schools — the Russian Academy of Arts. His years of formal, academic training laid the foundation for his mastery, shaping him into a painter with a deep understanding of composition, light, and form.

In his work, Alexei blends the discipline of academic tradition with a philosophical view of the world. His paintings are never just depictions of cities or people — they’re visual reflections on

presence, on the quiet moments hidden inside the rhythm of modern life, on the kind of silence you can feel even in a city that never stops moving.

Landscapes & People