In 2018 I moved from Russia, Moscow to the Netherlands, the Hague and soon expectedly found myself struggling with loneliness, homesickness, and isolation. Coming from the post-Soviet space, I acutely felt that I didn’t belong in this seemingly ideal European city. Walking became my coping mechanism: I strolled for hours exploring the space.
Then I started using my camera for creating new connections with the area. I photographed the cityscape and parks, details and flaws. My attention was attracted by the garbage under my feet. I collected it – discarded, unnecessary, beautiful – and created fragile sculptures, taking pictures seconds before the decay.
I needed to intrude into the space more. What if my childhood happened here too? So, I reenacted my memories in front of the camera. What if I play with the printed images of the area? So I crumpled, tore photographs, then collected them back together into sculptures.
Do I belong here now?
Then I started using my camera for creating new connections with the area. I photographed the cityscape and parks, details and flaws. My attention was attracted by the garbage under my feet. I collected it – discarded, unnecessary, beautiful – and created fragile sculptures, taking pictures seconds before the decay.
I needed to intrude into the space more. What if my childhood happened here too? So, I reenacted my memories in front of the camera. What if I play with the printed images of the area? So I crumpled, tore photographs, then collected them back together into sculptures.
Do I belong here now?
Look, I am here
