In his essay on the artist's work, Valery Silaev very aptly compares Bukh to a volcano, and his painting method to the boiling lava. Bukh was tuning himself for some time, he was getting psyched up. And then he rushed into action — quickly and expressively. He mixed paints on canvas, spread them with fingers and brush, rubbed with newspapers and rags. His work was a physiological necessity. From morning till night. If finished paintings were not picked up in time, sometimes the artist painted them anew.

The village of the Kiev province — Odessa — Vienna — Paris. A normal route for a talented and moderately ambitious provincial artist. Well, where else to go if not to the cultural capital of Europe? There, where Montmartre, the Salons of the Independent, favorite impressionists and progressive audiences who have seen a lot, and therefore are not inclined to obscurantism. Looking ahead, I will say that a miracle will happen. In a few years, yesterday's shoemaker himself will become a prominent participant in these salons. And his personal exhibition in Paris will be paid for by the famous Baron Rothschild himself.