"During art shows, I’m always available to talk to the visitors about ideas behind my installations and sculptures, and I notice the difference in reaction between those who listen to my explanation and those who don’t, saying ‘No thank you, I’m sure the art speaks for itself’.
I accept their purely visual interaction with an art piece, but I feel the more you learn, the more you see. That’s why I like to learn more about spheres of art that are totally different from what I do..."
I like complicated things. The world of our feelings, thoughts and emotions is composed of so many layers of shades. I believe this complexity is precious because it makes a whole universe of every person.
In recent years, when I’ve talked to art critics or gallerists they’ve told me that people want simple things. I find this desire for simplicity hugely disappointing. It might be revolutionary during the postmodernist period, but I see it as a lack of desire to contemplate something here and now, to experience a moment or a work of art with undivided attention.
My installations are meant to be a kind of playground for grown-ups, a space where one can abandon his or her seriousness and social status, and feel like Alice in Wonderland.
During art shows, I’m always available to talk to the visitors about ideas behind my installations and sculptures, and I notice the difference in reaction between those who listen to my explanation and those who don’t, saying ‘No thank you, I’m sure the art speaks for itself’.
I accept their purely visual interaction with an art piece, but I feel the more you learn, the more you see. That’s why I like to learn more about spheres of art that are totally different from what I do
such as the performance art of Marina Abramovich or minimalism of Donald Judd. Learning about something that is totally at odds with your own vision and point of view helps to develop new visions of art, and those of other people
In 2022, I was supposed to take part in a group show in Paris, and I was supposed to have a personal show in Amsterdam and many group projects in Italy. When the military operation in Ukraine broke out, that same day I got many emails and phone calls from gallerists and curators. Basically, everybody was saying the same thing: ‘I appreciate your work so much, but you are Russian and I’m afraid to exhibit you’.
I’ve experienced scenes like arriving at my local shop only to be greeted with shouting: ‘Out, out, no Russians here!’. I’ve experienced the partial blocking of my bank account because I was Russian, and it took a few months to unblock it. I