The contemporary artist is measured, weighed, contextualised, packed into a colourless toxic plastic monolith – styrene – and put on sale like a Mesozoic spider in amber – this is how show business rolls. Set designers, artists/engineers, artists/performers and even artists/artists (not unlike crossopterygians) – the list goes on – are fighting for their future on the stalls of the art market. Natasha Struchkova is labeled as 'artist/constructor.' In the sense that she doesn't paint or draw on her canvases, she builds them. Like architects design edifices. She studies the landscape, architecture, aboriginal habits, traditional materials – and only afterwards, thoroughly prepared, she starts to work. That is why all of her structures are monumental, multifaceted and offer multiple answers.
It may seem that Natasha Struchkova depicts Lego parts. First of all, she doesn't depict, and secondly, it's not Lego. Olga Rozanova's abstract pieces can be reduced in the same way to peasant land patterns seen from a bird's-eye view. Or Wassily Kandinsky's compositions can be seen as elementary particle tracks in Wilson's chamber. It's like there is a connection, but who cares about silly connections? According to Natasha Struchkova, multicoloured plastic is a material everything consists of now, a hundred years after a man rose above rural geometry and learned to photograph electrons. The artist/constructor simply uses found objects and makes art out from them. Quite realistic by nature, yet more abstract by appearance.