Konrad Krzyżanowski

Konrad Krzyżanowski (1872–1922), Polish, Konrad Krzyżanowski, a prominent Polish painter and early exponent of Expressionism, was born on February 15, 1872, in Krzemieńczuk. His artistic journey began in Kyiv, where he studied at the Nikolai Murashko School of Drawing before advancing to the Imperial Academy of Arts in St. Petersburg. There, under the tutelage of Kławdij Lebiediew and Iwan Tvorozhnikov, and influenced by Ilya Repin and Arkhip Kuindzhi, Krzyżanowski developed his distinctive style. His academic career was marked by rebellion, leading to his expulsion after a dispute with the rector. In 1897, he moved to Munich to study at Simon Hollósy’s private painting school, later relocating to Nagybánya, Hungary, a renowned artists' colony. By 1900, Krzyżanowski had settled in Warsaw, co-founding a private art school with Kazimierz Stabrowski and teaching at the Warsaw School of Fine Arts from 1904 to 1909. His work and life were deeply intertwined with the cultural milieu of 'Chimera' magazine, fostering friendships with figures like Zenon Przesmycki and Stanisław Przybyszewski. Krzyżanowski's marriage in 1906 to Michalina Piotruszewska, a budding artist from a Volhynian landed family, marked a significant personal chapter, with his wife becoming a frequent subject of his portraits. The upheavals of World War I saw him in Volhynia and Polesie, before he took a professorship at the Polish School of Fine Arts in Kyiv from 1917 to 1918. Post-war, he revived his Warsaw art school, mentoring notable artists such as Tadeusz Pruszkowski and Krystyna Wróblewska. Krzyżanowski's oeuvre, primarily portraits and landscapes, alongside vignettes, reflects his dynamic engagement with the artistic and social currents of his time. He passed away on May 25, 1922, in Warsaw, leaving behind a legacy as a pivotal figure in Polish art.
  • View from Istebna V. Church (1906)

    View from Istebna V. Church (1906)

    Konrad Krzyżanowski (Polish, 1872–1922)

    A lone church stands against the wind, its steeple piercing the sky. The landscape around it feels alive—raw and untamed. You can almost hear the creak of wooden beams, the whisper of grass bending under the Polish breeze. Something hums beneath the surface here, quiet but insistent.