summer 2022
Cloud
With this installation, I’m trying to convey and capture my present condition: being an immigrant during a tense political situation and the events in my homeland, Ukraine, and the world.
Just some time ago, the world seemed open and accessible, and borders between countries were turning more and more transparent – there was a deceptive feeling of eventual freedom. Going from Moscow to Limassol was no more difficult than getting to a country house through the summertime traffic jams of the Moscow region.
My project is a reflection on the phenomenon of an internal emotion that is felt not just on a personal but on a social level, such deep heart-felt emotions are what we call it “in the air”. Recent events of war and polarisation of society made me sharply realize how rapidly we can lose the connections with people and places that used to be close and dear and how the future breaks away from the past and turns foggy and ambiguous.
The past year, from August 2021 to August 2022, after I’ve moved from Russia to Cyprus, the world has changed dramatically for me and all the expats and emigres from Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus. Since spring 2022, the beginning of the war, familiar life and communications with the closest people from our respective homelands has grown tremendously more difficult. New sanctions, laws, and regulations, often unspoken and ambiguous, change on a weekly. While awareness and memories of even the most familiar places and people distort and continue to fade away.
My project is a reflection on the phenomenon of an internal emotion that is felt not just on a personal but on a social level, such deep heart-felt emotions are what we call it “in the air”. Recent events of war and polarisation of society made me sharply realize how rapidly we can lose the connections with people and places that used to be close and dear and how the future breaks away from the past and turns foggy and ambiguous.
The past year, from August 2021 to August 2022, after I’ve moved from Russia to Cyprus, the world has changed dramatically for me and all the expats and emigres from Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus. Since spring 2022, the beginning of the war, familiar life and communications with the closest people from our respective homelands has grown tremendously more difficult. New sanctions, laws, and regulations, often unspoken and ambiguous, change on a weekly. While awareness and memories of even the most familiar places and people distort and continue to fade away.
For this project I manually paint over very thin paper that starts to break down when it comes in contact with the water. It’s difficult to preserve it and keep it from falling apart. This most vividly conveys my current feelings: the inability to maintain your sense of reality, your connection to loved ones, places, and the future. Tiny paper planes, just like the pieces of fleeting freedom, dreams, and lightness, are frozen in the air while gradually disappearing and disintegrating.
Sometimes I think that the cloud around me is beginning to dissipate, but the daily news brings the mist back again and again. I think about the people around the globe, those who don’t have the opportunity to keep in touch with their loved ones and simply return home.
