Airplane Flying, 1915 Kazimir Malevich (1879-1935)

We create our paintings with museum quality and covering the highest academic standards. Once we get your order, it will be entirely hand-painted with oil on canvas. All the materials we use are the highest level, being totally artist graded painting materials and linen canvas.

We will add 1.6" (4 cm) additional blank canvas all over the painting for stretching.

High quality and detailing in every inch are time consuming. The reproduction of Kazimir Malevich also needs time to dry in order to be completely ready for shipping, as this is crucial to not be damaged during transportation.
Based on the size, level of detail and complexity we need 8-9 weeks to complete the process.

In case the delivery date needs to be extended in time, or we are overloaded with requests, there will be an email sent to you sharing the new timelines of production and delivery.

TOPofART wants to remind you to keep patient, in order to get you the highest quality, being our mission to fulfill your expectations.

We not stretch and frame our oil paintings due to several reasons:
Painting reproduction is a high quality expensive product, which we cannot risk to damage by sending it being stretched.
Also, there are postal restrictions, regarding the size of the shipment.
Additionally, due to the dimensions of the stretched canvas, the shipment price may exceed the price of the product itself.

You can stretch and frame your painting in your local frame-shop.

Once the painting Airplane Flying is ready and dry, it will be shipped to your delivery address. The canvas will be rolled-up in a secure postal tube.

We offer free shipping as well as paid express transportation services.

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The paintings we create are only of museum quality. Our academy graduated artists will never allow a compromise in the quality and detail of the ordered painting. TOPofART do not work, and will never allow ourselves to work with low quality studios from the Far East. We are based in Europe, and quality is our highest priority.

Two thin red bars skim the upper edge like a clipped horizon line – and then, almost mischievously, Kazimir Malevich refuses to let you settle. Everything that follows tilts. A tall ochre rectangle leans diagonally, as if caught mid-bank in open air. Below it, a heavy black block anchors the whole arrangement, with two smaller black rectangles stepping away to the right, like a sequence of beats.

What you’re looking at in Airplane Flying is not an airplane in any literal sense. It’s more like the sensation of flight translated into a new grammar: planes of color, turned and suspended against a chalky white field. That whiteness matters. It isn’t “background” so much as an expanse, a kind of boundless atmosphere where up and down are negotiable. Malevich called this Suprematism, and in 1915 – at Petrograd’s fateful 0.10 exhibition – he presented these works as a break from describing the outside world. He even wrote of transforming himself into “the zero of form,” escaping the horizon that cages nature and the artist alike.

Stand close and the surface turns quietly physical. The white isn’t a sterile flat; it carries faint brush ridges and rubbed patches, like thin plaster that has dried unevenly. That texture makes the floating shapes feel all the more weighty. Notice, too, how the edges are not mechanically crisp. The black rectangles hold a softened perimeter, a human hand at work, and the ochres vary slightly in warmth, from honeyed yellow to a more sanded tone.

Colour sets the emotional temperature. Ochre brings a dry, sunlit heat; black drops in like a sudden engine-thrum. Those small blue and red slivers act as measured shocks, like signals in peripheral vision. One might imagine sound here: a clipped propeller rattle, then a hush.

Malevich’s geometry can feel austere, but it isn’t cold. Compared with Mondrian’s later, strict grid, this composition still swerves, still risks imbalance. It keeps faith with speed without illustrating it. In the Museum of Modern Art New York MOMMA, it reads like a small manifesto you can carry in your body: gravity challenged, horizon dismissed, and space opened wide enough to think in.