Tondo Cycle brings together monumental circular paintings in which Iryna Sushelnytska explores cyclical transformation through rhythm, embodiment, myth, and energy. Moving from point to line, from line to chromatic field, and from field to figure, these works treat the tondo as a structure of recurrence, movement, and philosophical reflection.
Tondo Cycle
Samsara Wheel
Acrylic on canvas
Diameter 200 cm
ID: SILA-2019-PNT-063
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Wheel of Samsara
The Body in a Cycle of Transformation
In Iryna Sushelnytska’s Wheel of Samsara (200 cm in diameter), human bodies participate in a circular movement that encompasses the entire composition. Turns of the head, curves of the torso, and the directions of limbs connect the figures to the surrounding bands and arcs. Each pose becomes part of a more extensive rhythm. The sense of circulation emerges through the interaction of bodies, areas of colour, and recurring lines.
The composition is organised around a clearly defined centre. A small, curled figure occupies the central area, surrounded by a dense ring of alternating curved elements. This ring creates a sense of rotation and connects the centre to the larger bodies arranged around it. Their scale, orientation, and position vary, directing the eye from one configuration to another.
The title invokes samsara - the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. In Buddhist visual traditions, this process takes the form of the bhavachakra, the Wheel of Existence. Its structure connects different states of life with the causes that keep beings within the cycle. The circle serves as a means of representing the interdependence and recurrence of existence. The Rubin Museum on the Wheel of Life.
In the artist’s interpretation, this cultural foundation becomes a starting point for considering the human capacity for change. Each state belongs to a movement extending beyond it. The human image returns in different positions, relationships, and expressions, retaining the possibility of transformation. Here, growth is a possibility associated with change, rather than a guaranteed outcome of repetition.
The bodies around the perimeter can be perceived as different embodiments of human presence. They vary in pose, contour, and direction of movement. The composition allows the viewer to trace a passage from one figure to the next without establishing a prescribed sequence of events. Its circular organisation holds these states together simultaneously, leaving the direction of reading open.
Deformation helps construct the overall movement. Torsos bend, limbs elongate, and faces acquire angular contours. Anatomy responds to the rhythm of the surrounding forms: the turn of a body continues into an arc, while an individual gesture is taken up by an adjacent area of colour. The human figure remains recognisable within this formal reconfiguration.
This approach invites comparison with the transformation of the figure in Pablo Picasso’s work. In Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (1907), bodies are constructed from angular planes, while the shallow space intensifies their presence at the painting’s surface. Different approaches to depicting faces and bodies coexist within one composition, challenging the expectation of a consistent naturalistic representation. MoMA on Les Demoiselles d’Avignon.
For Wheel of Samsara, the relevant connection lies in understanding anatomy as a mutable system of formal relationships. Here, bodily transformation follows a circular rhythm: figures turn in relation to the centre and to one another, participating in the curves of the surrounding field. Their differences become a means of presenting human existence in multiple states.
Colour sustains the movement. Coral, white, and grey areas stand out against a dark ground; green and muted blue-violet passages complicate their interaction. Within the central ring, the close alternation of light and coral curves establishes a pulsating rhythm. In the larger figures, areas of colour broaden, allowing the body to become distinct before the eye draws it back into the overall circulation.
The relief develops this movement at the scale of the individual mark. Small loops, grooves, and meandering lines of paint occupy the broad curves and coloured areas. They retain the direction of physical action and give the surface its varied texture. The larger rhythm of the bodies finds a continuation in the smaller movements of the material.
In this sense, the surface becomes the wheel’s “living skin.” The metaphor is grounded in the palpable thickness of paint, the alternation of ridges and recesses, and the interaction of light and shadow. On approaching, attention shifts from the depicted body to the material organisation of its surface. From a distance, the fine texture reunites into larger forms that sustain the impression of rotation.
Photographs of the working process show how the scale of the tondo determines the artist’s own position. Working with the surface laid horizontally requires close engagement with individual areas; working with the circle upright changes the height and range of movement. The image takes shape through the body’s movement in relation to the developing composition. Traces of these actions remain in the relief.
The work brings together several temporal relationships: the cultural image of cyclical existence, the sequence of the artist’s actions, and the movement of the viewer’s gaze between figures. Returning to a previously seen passage reveals new connections with neighbouring bodies and rhythms. Each renewed reading incorporates what has been discovered along the way.
Wheel of Samsara presents the human form as a state within continuous change. The centre anchors the composition, the circle connects its different embodiments, and the relief gives movement a tangible material presence. Life appears as a link within a more extensive continuity, in which each new turn opens the possibility of another expression.
Moirai
Acrylic on canvas
Diameter 200 cm
ID: SILA-2019-PNT-041
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The Moirai
When Paint Becomes the Fabric of Fate
In Iryna Sushelnytska’s The Moirai (200 cm in diameter), the ancient image of the thread of life takes material form through the structure of the painting itself. Paint squeezed directly from the tube forms continuous, raised lines. They curve, close into rings, and establish a dense network within which human silhouettes become discernible. The mythological subject connects the organisation of the image with the actions through which it emerges.
In Greek tradition, Clotho spins the thread of life, Lachesis determines its measure, and Atropos cuts it. These actions bring together the beginning, duration, and limit of human existence. Within the work, they are interpreted through the artistic process: applying material, establishing relationships between elements, and deciding when to stop. Mythological sources on the Moirai — Theoi.
The thread of paint retains the trace of physical effort. Pressure on the tube, together with the speed and direction of movement, helps determine its thickness and extent. Once the hand stops, the line remains as a raised body of paint: it has height, casts a shadow, and enters into spatial relationships with adjacent elements. The metaphor of spinning is grounded in a specific way of working with material.
Measure emerges through the relationship of each mark to the whole. The length of a line, the size of an interval, the density of an area, and the alternation of light and dark establish the rhythm of the surface. Repeated rings vary in outline, internal pattern, and colour. These variations sustain a shared structure while preserving the individuality of its elements.
Cutting the thread corresponds to ending a gesture. The termination of a line establishes a break and leaves room for the next action. A pause allows the relationships already formed to be assessed. Spinning, measuring, and cutting recur throughout the process; each new movement enters a surface altered by previous decisions. In this way, the time spent making the work acquires material density.
Within art history, The Moirai can be considered at the intersection of two formal concerns: the relationship between the human figure and the ornamental field, and the emergence of the painted line as an autonomous trace of action.
The first finds a particularly clear expression in the work of Gustav Klimt. In The Kiss and Fulfillment from the Stoclet Frieze, patterned robes bring embracing bodies together into large decorative formations. Faces and hands retain their bodily specificity among the recurring motifs. These works provide a basis for comparison: how does a figure remain recognisable while also participating in the organisation of the surface? The Albertina Museum on The Kiss and Fulfillment.
In The Moirai, the colour boundary of a silhouette crosses rings and a winding network shared by the body and the surrounding field. A single ring may be divided into light and dark sections while retaining the continuity of its contour. Colour brings elements together into a figure, while the continuity of the pattern connects that figure to its surroundings. Ornament participates in defining the boundary of the body itself.
The second historical connection runs through twentieth-century painting, in which the movement of paint became a means of structuring the work. In Jackson Pollock’s One: Number 31, 1950, poured and spattered lines register the force and speed of action, forming an intricate field. This comparison helps clarify the role of gesture in The Moirai: the extruded thread of paint retains the direction of movement while entering a system of repetitions, colour divisions, and recognisable figures. MoMA on Pollock’s painting.
These historical parallels identify a set of concerns through which the work can be understood. Its particular approach brings together the mythological thread, the raised material trace, and a structure shared by figure and environment. A single element can belong simultaneously to the depicted body, the ornamental rhythm, and the material surface.
Changes in viewing distance shift the relationship between these readings. From a distance, colour differences coalesce into human silhouettes. On approaching, attention moves towards rings, curves, ridges, and shadows. The figure remains available to recognition, while individual elements acquire greater visual independence. Returning to an overall view restores the body’s coherence.
Time is therefore present in The Moirai both as the sequence in which paint is applied and as the duration of perception. The viewer gradually discovers relationships that coexist on the surface. Moving between detail and whole reveals how a multitude of individual marks sustains a shared image.
Here, the fabric of fate takes shape through material decisions: to continue a line, change its direction, establish an interval, or end a movement. Each mark acquires meaning through its proximity to others. The human body emerges within this interweaving and remains connected to the same structure that forms the world around it.
Quintessence
Acrylic on canvas
Diameter 200 cm
ID: SILA-2019-PNT-033
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Quintessence
The Whole Beyond a Single Reading
In Iryna Sushelnytska’s Quintessence (200 cm in diameter), the world appears as a multiplicity of interconnected forms, none of which exhausts the whole. The circular surface brings together winding bands, rings, and branching, sign-like configurations. Each element has its own contour, colour, and internal texture while participating in the construction of a shared field.
At the heart of the work is a question about the limits of human understanding of the world. Perception takes shape within a particular environment: language, culture, memory, social relationships, and the daily flow of information. This environment makes reality accessible, but also directs attention and establishes familiar ways of explaining it. A particular worldview becomes a constraint when its boundaries are mistaken for the boundaries of existence itself.
Quintessence translates this problem into relationships between part and whole. An individual form may be perceived as a sign, a fragment of an organism, an imagined letter, or a section of a more extensive structure. Such associations arise through the contours and proximity of elements, without settling into a single prescribed reading. The eye identifies one local relationship, then discovers another that may alter its initial understanding.
The painting was preceded by extensive work with preparatory studies. Separate sheets bearing graphic and colour motifs were arranged on the circular support, allowing their interaction to be explored at the scale of the future composition. This process made relationships between forms a matter of deliberate choice: which elements would become neighbours, where repetition would emerge, and how an individual motif would enter a more complex configuration.
In the completed work, distinct motifs form a continuous field. Ochre and lilac combinations occupy much of the central area, while red, blue, and yellow accents intensify in many passages towards the perimeter. These differences establish varying conditions of visibility: some forms draw together through tonal proximity, while others stand out distinctly. The composition maintains its overall coherence while allowing its parts different degrees of independence.
The surface is organised across several scales. From a distance, the viewer perceives broad colour relationships and the distribution of contrasts. On approaching, the winding lines that fill the larger forms become discernible. A contour initially read as a single sign opens into a space containing many smaller movements. The relief of the paint adds ridges, grooves, and shadows to these colour relationships, giving form a material presence of its own.
A historical comparison with Jean Dubuffet’s L’Hourloupe cycle places the work within the context of constructing an autonomous visual language. In the cycle, begun in 1962, meandering contours form interlocking cells; a recurring vocabulary of forms develops across painting, sculpture, and spatial constructions. Recognition becomes fluid, dependent on the organisation of lines and boundaries. Pace Gallery on the L’Hourloupe cycle.
In Quintessence, a comparable concern unfolds through the interaction of sign-like elements distinguished by colour and texture. Their integration preserves their internal diversity. The whole becomes accessible through transitions between areas, each offering its own organisation and possibilities of recognition.
Another historical perspective emerges through Robert Delaunay’s explorations of colour associated with Orphism. In Simultaneous Contrasts: Sun and Moon, the interaction of colour areas generates a sense of depth and movement, while the circular format evokes a cosmic whole. Colour relationships become a means of constructing space. MoMA on Delaunay’s painting.
This comparison helps clarify the role of colour in Quintessence. Contrast and tonal proximity regulate how distinctly individual elements appear. One form advances, while another joins a larger grouping; proximity changes their visual weight. The circle holds these differences within a shared space, allowing the eye to return to previously viewed areas from a new position.
Within the artist’s conception, the circle can be read as an image of wholeness that exceeds any single explanation. Its outer boundary is clearly defined, yet a complex interaction of forms continues within it. The physical completeness of the support coexists with an openness to interpretation.
The title Quintessence acquires a particular meaning here: what becomes essential is the relationship between differences through which a sense of the whole emerges. The work offers an experience of gradually bringing partial readings together. Each reveals certain connections while leaving others beyond the viewer’s immediate attention.
The viewer explores in sequence what exists simultaneously on the surface. Approaching, stepping back, and shifting one’s gaze change the scale of the relationships perceived. The whole remains in view, yet requires time - and retains the possibility of being seen differently.
Veil
Acrylic on canvas
Diameter 200 cm
ID: SILA-2019-PNT-013
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Veil
The Figure at the Threshold of Visibility
In Iryna Sushelnytska’s Veil (200 cm in diameter), female figures gradually emerge within a dense abstract fabric. The initial impression is shaped by dark green branching forms, yellow intervals, red accents, and blue lines. Among these contrasts, the outlines of faces, hands, and bodies become discernible. Their presence unfolds as the eye begins to connect separate sections of contour.
The title describes how visibility is organised. The surface attracts attention through its intensity while making immediate recognition of the figures difficult. Their outlines are available to sight, yet require sustained looking. The veil arises from the interaction of two ways of constructing an image: broad colour formations and fine linear drawing.
The contours of female bodies cross colour boundaries. The same shapes and raised lines continue both within and beyond each figure. The body therefore has no solid, self-contained silhouette: its coherence is sustained by the direction of the contour, the relationships between gestures, and recognisable anatomical details. A hand or profile becomes a point of recognition from which the eye traces the rest of the figure.
The complexity of this reading depends on differences in scale. Large branching forms establish the composition’s overall rhythm. Finer lines delineate bodies. Within the coloured areas, paint forms a minute, winding pattern. Each level has its own visual activity. Attention moves between them, shifting the relationship between the abstract surface and the human presence.
Associations with nature arise through the structure of the forms. Rounded ends, branching shapes, curves, and the close proximity of elements suggest processes of growth, spreading, and mutual adaptation. One passage seems to continue the movement of another; the spaces between forms acquire contours shaped by their surroundings. A sense of a living environment emerges through rhythm and the interaction of parts.
The female figures participate in this environment through the shared structure of the image. Bodily contours pass through the branching field, connecting human gesture and form with the movements around them. This relationship allows Veil to be understood as an exploration of the permeable boundary between the body and its surroundings. Recognisability persists, although the figure remains only partially differentiated from the field.
Henri Matisse’s late works in cut and painted paper offer a historical perspective on this approach. In these works, vegetal and abstract forms create compositions structured through colour, contrast, and interacting contours. The organic motif becomes a means of organising space while retaining associations with life and growth. MoMA on Matisse’s late cut-outs.
This comparison helps locate the organic character of Veil in its branching forms and distribution of colour masses. Within this organisation, an additional drawing of human figures unfolds. Coloured shapes and bodily contours retain distinct directions and scales, prompting the eye to consider their relationships.
A further historical connection can be found in Francis Picabia’s Transparencies. In these works, developed from the late 1920s onwards, superimposed images coexist within a single field, creating shifting relationships between outlines. In The Yellow Beast, for example, several images overlap, requiring careful looking to distinguish them.MoMA on The Yellow Beast and Picabia’s Transparencies.
In Veil, a comparable concern is addressed through the combination of opaque colour areas and bodies drawn in outline. A sense of permeability arises because the overall pattern remains visible within each figure. The viewer can follow an anatomical contour or shift attention to the abstract field that crosses it. Both readings occupy the same surface.
The relief gives this interaction material depth. Raised lines and fine meanders preserve the trace of paint in motion. Light catches their edges, while shadows make their thickness perceptible. Tactility becomes part of the visual experience: the eye apprehends the surface as something with density and resistance. At the same time, the abundance of texture can hold attention on a detail, delaying recognition of the complete figure.
The scale of the tondo allows the viewer to move from an overall impression of colour to a close examination of the surface. The circular boundary holds the branching field within a unified space. The movement of the eye returns the viewer to previously seen passages, where the discovery of a figure gives the familiar pattern an additional meaning.
The time spent looking becomes a process of recognition. A contour initially perceived as part of the ornament reveals itself as a shoulder, a hand, or the curve of a body. Once discovered, the figure changes how neighbouring elements are read while remaining connected to the work’s overall fabric.
Veil explores the conditions under which what is present becomes discernible. The female bodies are already within the image; attention gradually establishes the connections that allow them to be seen. The surface sustains this transition between visual intensity and the possibility of recognition.
Fragments of the work