Faces before future students, hands – guardians of the craft, people – inspirers. A column that introduces you to the future teachers of the crafts school, part of Sharena Fabrika.
Thanks to his unconventional approach to working with wood sculptures and his deep respect for the material, Hristo Kirilov's artistry carries a distinctive signature. The skills and dexterity inherited from his grandfather played a key role not only in sparking his interest in the craft but also in fostering a profound reverence for wood as a material. Before stepping into the future studios and classrooms of "Sharena Fabrika" to share his experience and knowledge, we asked Hristo about his beginnings and inspirations: how and when he started, what his processes are, and what legacy he wishes to leave to future students.
How did you first encounter the craft, and when did you realize that wood was your material?
I think I was in the second grade when my mother signed me up for woodcarving lessons at the Palace of Children. There wasn’t an overabundance of toys back then, so if I wanted “friends,” I had to create them myself. I would carve little wooden figures using my grandfather’s knife. Now that I think about it, that’s where it all started. My grandparents and I would often wander into nature to pick raspberries and blackberries, which my grandmother would turn into ambrosia. While resting, my grandfather would craft boats out of pine bark with his knife. I was amazed by his skill and the way his face transformed while creating those magical, priceless boats.
That’s how I picked up the knife and started carving too. My mother noticed and found woodcarving lessons for me.
Was that when your style started to take shape?
Yes, I remember that even then, I constantly asked my teacher, Kostadinka Krasteva, to let me work on three-dimensional pieces, not just flat boards with flowers carved into them. I was drawn to three-dimensional sculpture. Later, in applied arts school, I realized that even those flowers could be as three-dimensional as I wanted, as long as I had the right approach and a sense of sculptural depth in a two-dimensional panel. That’s how I started studying woodcarving in applied arts school and later continued at the Academy of Arts. It wasn’t easy—I applied for four years before I finally succeeded, entering the class of Anton Donchev, who is known for his affinity for the human figure. Even today, I can’t escape the human figure and humanity in general.
I know that later you went to specialize in Portugal. What memories do you have from there?
During my studies at the National Academy of Arts, I was fortunate to specialize at the academy in Porto, Portugal. There, I met amazing professors and colleagues who broadened my horizons and deepened my approach to art. I had access to a richly equipped studio at the Faculdade de Belas Artes do Porto, where I experimented with various materials for sculpture, including sheet metal, cast iron, and cement. In the end, I returned to wood but enriched by new knowledge about other materials and techniques.
Where have you showcased your work so far?
After graduating from the Academy of Arts, I participated in various symposia for monumental outdoor wooden sculpture in Bulgaria, France, and Denmark. I also continue to take part in group exhibitions in Bulgaria and have presented two solo exhibitions here.
How did you choose your tools?
Attention to detail is characteristic of me and inherent to traditional woodcarving and its tools—the chisels. Recently, I have focused on portraiture and delving into personality. To intentionally move away from fine detailing, I began using a chainsaw as my primary tool. I embarked on a journey to capture emotion and character in the portrait, which has become my driving force. During the pandemic, I also rediscovered the axe.
I found it while being isolated in the countryside, without access to convenient tools. I realized I could work in an open field, armed with just an axe and a piece of wood in front of me. This gave me a sense of freedom—no need for a studio or comfort.
The only thing I need to create is inspiration.
What is the most challenging aspect of the process?
In my search for the best means of expression, I started combining different techniques and tools. I draw parallels between presenting a sculpture and a beautifully arranged plate. The key is to have a richness of elements, diverse techniques, and a variety of textures. The most challenging part for me is finding the balance between all of these elements.
What are the peculiarities of your process?
Perhaps the distinctive feature of my work process is that I rarely have a preliminary plan. I don’t sketch on the wood. I prefer to listen to it and adapt to what it offers me. When creating a portrait of a specific person, I don’t use a model or photos. I aim to convey only the feeling I have in my mind about that person. It is personal and entirely my own.
What would you like to pass on to future woodcarving students at Sharena Fabrika?
No matter how many attempts and experiments I’ve made with different materials, wood will always be my material. It expresses me best, and we understand each other. I’ve learned to appreciate all its imperfections, especially in the context of my portrait work and the parallels I draw with people. There are trees with straight and soft grains, and there are twisted, hard ones that resist processing. They require more patience and different techniques. In the end, all of them are beautiful. I love the knots, always appearing unexpectedly, but later I realize they’re exactly where they’re meant to be. I adore the cracks and the way they traverse the form, painting it in their own way.
I think the most distinctive quality of wood is that it continues to live. It darkens, grays, cracks, and ages. It resembles a person. It’s influenced by water, air, sunlight—and time. And just like a person, it can warm you, but only if you take the time to observe it and try to understand it.
The only thing I can truly pass on is my love for this divine material.
