About Oksana Sadykova
Biography
I was born in a small town at the foot of the Ural Mountains in Russia. My home was a place where two cultures met: my mother is Tatar, and my father is Ukrainian. Growing up, I heard two languages at the dinner table, tasted different kinds of food, and saw various patterns and colors in embroidery, ceramics, and old carpets. I think that is where my love for simple, honest, handmade things comes from — things made slowly, without rules or hurry.
I have been drawing for as long as I can remember. But my path into art was not direct. I studied psychology at university. I have always been curious about how people feel, what they remember, and what lies behind silence. Those years were not wasted. Psychology taught me to look deeper and notice what usually slips by — a gesture, the light on a wall, the silence between words.
My real work with paint began when I moved to Saint Petersburg. The city, with its northern light, museums, and studios, made me return to painting seriously. I began taking lessons from established artists and studying technique, materials, and composition. My first group exhibitions also took place there. It was a time of trial and error, but that was when I understood that I needed to work with my hands, feel texture, and leave traces of the material on the surface.
In 2023, life brought me to Italy, to Tuscany. The landscape here speaks for itself — ochre walls, cypress trees, sun-bleached grass, and light that changes color every hour. I could not help but paint. It was in Tuscany that I finally found my visual language: naive art. For me, naive does not mean unskilled. It means honest. It is like the way a child draws a house — without perspective, but with feeling. I work in mixed media, using encaustic, oil, and tempera on wood. The hot wax gives the surface a matte texture and a warmth that I associate with Tuscan houses.
After moving here, I started receiving invitations to exhibit my work. An important moment was my first solo exhibition at Palazzo Chigi in San Quirico d’Orcia. After that, there were exhibitions in Florence and Venice. For me, this is not about status. It is about having the opportunity to speak to people through images.
Now I live and work in Tuscany. I paint ordinary things: a quiet dinner for two, the light on an old table, the smell of apples in the kitchen. What matters to me is that my paintings create a feeling of home. I want the viewer to pause for a moment and remember their own sense of home.
I have been drawing for as long as I can remember. But my path into art was not direct. I studied psychology at university. I have always been curious about how people feel, what they remember, and what lies behind silence. Those years were not wasted. Psychology taught me to look deeper and notice what usually slips by — a gesture, the light on a wall, the silence between words.
My real work with paint began when I moved to Saint Petersburg. The city, with its northern light, museums, and studios, made me return to painting seriously. I began taking lessons from established artists and studying technique, materials, and composition. My first group exhibitions also took place there. It was a time of trial and error, but that was when I understood that I needed to work with my hands, feel texture, and leave traces of the material on the surface.
In 2023, life brought me to Italy, to Tuscany. The landscape here speaks for itself — ochre walls, cypress trees, sun-bleached grass, and light that changes color every hour. I could not help but paint. It was in Tuscany that I finally found my visual language: naive art. For me, naive does not mean unskilled. It means honest. It is like the way a child draws a house — without perspective, but with feeling. I work in mixed media, using encaustic, oil, and tempera on wood. The hot wax gives the surface a matte texture and a warmth that I associate with Tuscan houses.
After moving here, I started receiving invitations to exhibit my work. An important moment was my first solo exhibition at Palazzo Chigi in San Quirico d’Orcia. After that, there were exhibitions in Florence and Venice. For me, this is not about status. It is about having the opportunity to speak to people through images.
Now I live and work in Tuscany. I paint ordinary things: a quiet dinner for two, the light on an old table, the smell of apples in the kitchen. What matters to me is that my paintings create a feeling of home. I want the viewer to pause for a moment and remember their own sense of home.
