Today we’d like to introduce you to Tatyana Grechina.
Hi Tatyana, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
I was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, and came to the U.S. when I was a year and nine months old. I was always drawing and painting, but also writing stories, sewing clothes and putting on little plays — creative expression became ingrained in how I understood myself and the world around me. I went to an art boarding school in high school in South Carolina and then art school in Philly.
At Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia, where I earned my BFA in Painting, those different impulses began to weave together. I studied fibers, wearables and performance alongside painting, creating pieces to wear, staging scenes and eventually collaborating with photographers to capture images I could transform into paintings. After moving to Colorado, that theatrical approach continued to evolve through painting, collage, photography, writing and drawing.
My relationship with making art has changed a lot along the way. When I was younger, I was preoccupied with technical skill and the idea of being a “good” artist. Over time, that became much less interesting to me than honesty, collaboration and the strange alchemy of translating lived experience into something tangible.
Since becoming a mother, my practice has turned more deeply toward ancestry, memory and lineage. I’ve been looking backward to better understand where I come from, but also forward — thinking about what gets carried on, what gets transformed, and what kind of future I want to forge for my son and myself. How do our choices shape the world we collectively create?
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
My biggest personal struggles have all found their way into my art. In my 20s, I struggled with my shadow: comparison, envy, not-enoughness. I made work about it. I felt like if I talked about these things and showed them to the world myself, nobody could uncover my secret; there could be no “gotcha” moments. Even when I felt hopeless about making it in the art world, I kept creating because it was the only thing that made me feel better. Through action, I showed myself I am not who I THINK I am; I am what I do.
Sometimes I felt like life would be easier my soul did not need to choose a creative path, which always seemed to lead me deeply into the unknown, taking blind leaps of faith. But there was always something that drove me to take them, some inner fire or knowing that what lay on the other side was worth it.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
In my 20s, I made a lot of art about the human condition — the shadow, our inner demons (getting to know them) and accepting ourselves fully, warts and all. It felt critical to survival. I did this through creative direction via photography, working with photographers while I staged and modeled, through hand-cut collage of these photographs and finally through paintings of all sizes as I painted from the collages.
Most recently, my work has shifted to a deep exploration of ancestry. I have been working with my late uncle’s published books of poetry and archival photographs of his life, starting with his childhood in Ukraine. Somewhere along the way, I realized that to make the most authentic work for myself, I needed to start exploring a deeper, collective identity beyond the personal shadow/ego dichotomy I’d studied for ten years. I began to research the migration patterns of my ancestors and think about how everybody’s life choices, circumstances and chance led me to where I am today — living in Colorado with my wonderful husband and our son.
I specialize in oil painting on canvas, and lately acrylic on paper as I paint from these old family photographs. I am also constantly drawing everything — from my everyday home life to every little special object my 15-month-old son brings me. This began as a study of sacred objects taken from my uncle’s deathbed and evolved into an exploration of the question “what do we consider sacred?” My 15-month-old will find objects you couldn’t pry from his tiny hand if you tried, carrying them around for hours. These have become another form of my sacred object series. In the end, everything feels like an exploration of our deep humanness.
Part of my exploration of the Slavic ancestry which raised me has included a deep-dive into my childhood books — fairytales, poetry, folklore, all of which have beautiful illuminated borders. These have also found their way into my work, most recently in a collection of abstract, colorful pieces I’m creating.
Can you talk to us about how you think about risk?
I have a tattoo on the back of my arm that says “So it’s heart first into the forest.” Every big move I’ve made has felt like a blind leap into the unknown, and every time it has led me to magic. After college, I had no money, but I booked a ticket to Costa Rica with someone I hardly knew. I ended up miraculously selling enough art before my trip to pay for everything, and the person I went with became one of my best friends. Later that year, I did something similar with a solo trip to Europe. I ended up meeting an incredible new friend who let me live with him in Vienna and exposed me to his community of artists, and I also briefly became an artist assistant for a local Russian-Austrian gallery right in the center of the arts district.
In 2019, I felt a strong pull towards Colorado, so my ex and I moved across the country to make it happen. Sadly, the relationship did not last, but I stayed here and created a life I could only dream of. When we separated, I took a risk in moving in with a girl I barely knew, and she also became one of my best friends and creative muses — a frequent subject in my creative direction and paintings from that time. I also met my husband through this process, who has become the biggest supporter in my growth as both a creative and business owner.
Most recently in April 2026, I quit my job of seven years and went full-time with my art. I had been a writer and editor, and I finally started to pour this energy and knowledge into my own art practice. My son was 11 months old at the time, and as the primary caregiver, I knew that in order to continue making art with such limited time, I had to make a choice between a small, steady income and something potentially much greater. As always, I chose art. I am still in the investment period, but I have already seen such a dramatic shift in the opportunities coming to me and the ones I am actively creating. Life is so short. We have to actively create the world we want to see ourselves in — I’ve learned nobody will do this for us. Having a child helped me realize it’s up to me to become the person I’d want my kid to be proud to call mom.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://tatyfairy.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tatyfairy
