Oleg Prokofiev was born in Paris, France in 1928. He studied at the Moscow School of Art and later trained with painter Robert Falk. In 1971, he moved to England, where he continued to develop as a painter, sculptor, and poet. Influenced by music, modernism, and poetry, his work evolved from Soviet-era abstraction to vivid, rhythmic compositions that explored the expressive potential of abstract visual language.
Painter, sculptor and poet, Oleg Prokofiev was born in Paris, France in 1928. The son of Russian composer, Sergei Prokofiev and Spanish-American singer, Lina Codina, he moved to Moscow in 1935 when his father returned to the Soviet Union from exile. His childhood reflected the shifting fortunes of his father’s public life—first celebrated, then censored—and both parents ultimately fell victim to the regime’s suspicion of foreign influence. Lina was imprisoned for alleged espionage, and Sergei was targeted by Stalinist cultural policies. Prokofiev studied at the Moscow School of Art (1944–49) and later joined Robert Falk’s studio, also maintaining ties with abstract painters like Vladimir Slepian and Yuri Zlotnikov. From 1952–57, he worked at the Institute of Art History, publishing on Indian and Southeast Asian art. In the 1950s and ’60s, he developed a distinctive abstract style shaped by modulated light and introspective imagination, drawing on Western modernism, as well as Russian pre-revolutionary influences such as Malevich, in a context of unofficial, nonconformist artmaking in the Soviet Union. Between 1966 and 1971, in the final years before leaving Russia, Prokofiev turned to painting pale, atmospheric townscapes and rural scenes—often set in Lithuania or around Moscow—that evoke a nostalgic, folkloric vision of Russia, rendered in subdued, cool tones and a twilight-infused, impressionistic style. In the late 1960s, he met British art historian Camilla Gray, whose research on the Russian avant-garde provoked official backlash. Soviet authorities prohibited them from seeing each other for several years before finally allowing them to marry. Following her sudden death in 1971, Prokofiev immigrated to England with their daughter, Anastasia.
Once in England, he was awarded a Gregory Fellowship in Painting at the University of Leeds. Free from censorship, his practice blossomed. He turned increasingly to sculpture, creating painted wooden forms that he described as ‘organic constructivism’. These dynamic, rhythmic structures echoed his lifelong fascination with music, space, and movement. As he explained, ‘I try to occupy a space with an object and enrich that space. And I always have to come back to the beginning in a satisfactory way’ (Coventry Evening Telegraph, 1991). Prokofiev’s paintings, too, evolved. From the pale, subdued surfaces of the 1970s emerged the boldly coloured, emotionally charged works of the 1980s and '90s. He was deeply influenced by the expressive freedom of American abstract painters like Rothko, Still, and Frankenthaler, whom he encountered during travels to the US. His compositions began to explore the visual equivalents of musical form, with colour, line, and gesture performing like instruments in a symphonic score. Reflecting on the creative process, he once wrote: ‘What interests me [...] is not only problems of colour and textures in themselves [...] I want to explore the relationship between the figures within a composition [...] through the sense of the painted space, by colour relationships, the interplay of rhythms, brushstrokes and textures’ (Artist’s website, 1998). In the 1990s, Prokofiev's art became infused with the landscape and life of Cornwall, where he spent time sketching and observing everyday moments. His sketchbooks from 1997–98 are filled with figures scratching, stretching, smoking, and dreaming—rendered with fluid black lines and a new sense of character and grounding. These images, filled with sunlit beaches, winding streets, and drifting boats, reveal a lyrical intimacy and nostalgia. They evoke ‘dozy hazy barbecue evenings, where hair is shaken loose and takes on the sunset. Gold coins spill over heads and scatter through the water’ (Hay Hill Gallery, Coloured Works from the 1990's). His later sculptures, described as ‘solid music’ (Hay Hill Gallery, 2014), combined playfulness with rigour, echoing the tension between order and improvisation that defined much of his visual language. The English landscape became a profound source of inspiration. Reflecting on his surroundings, he observed: ‘This English landscape also attracts me, its soft lyricism, the poetry of trees, lawns, clouds [… ] the sky here with its ever changing and sometimes amazing clouds is in itself a great inspiration for me’ (Hay Hill Gallery, Oleg Prokofiev: Last Paintings). That atmospheric sensitivity shaped his final works, which were imbued with light, memory, and a meditative calm.
Though primarily known as a visual artist, Prokofiev was also a poet. Much of his writing remained unpublished, yet poetry played a crucial role in his inner life and creative practice. He also became a key figure in preserving and promoting the legacy of his father. He gave lectures, collaborated with researchers, and edited English translations of Sergei Prokofiev’s Soviet Diary. Throughout his life, Prokofiev’s work was exhibited across Europe and the United States, with solo shows at the Leamington Spa Art Gallery (1991) and Keele University Art Gallery (1995), among others. Oleg Prokofiev died while on holiday in Guernsey, Channel Islands in 1998. In the UK public domain, his work is represented in the collections of the University of Surrey and Leeds Art Gallery.
Consult items in the Ben Uri archive related to [Oleg Prokofiev ]
Publications related to [Oleg Prokofiev ] in the Ben Uri Library