UMAS - statement

ARTIST STATEMENT

My artistic practice began with photography. My camera and I wandered around the courtyards of my town, capturing unusual characters: crumpled mailboxes, rusty drain pipes, shabby doors. I was attracted by objects which were beaten down, marginal, and devoid of gloss. I felt that their layered textures and broken shapes contained some kind of a peculiar poetic truth, some utopic sacral pain. Driven by the desire to extract and expose it, I intuitively understood composition, color, and perspective. Moreover, I learned to think abstractly.

One day I printed some of my photos on matte paper for a small student exhibition, and I occasionally poured some coffee on one of the shots. The image was messed up, but for some reason, it seemed more interesting to me. I rubbed the wetted area with my finger so that the top layer of ink came off. This new texture, combined with the texture of the object in the photo, produced an additional unexpected effect. At this moment I realized that this very poetic truth lies not in the subject of shooting, but in the image as such. I started to perceive the image as something material with physical properties, as a test subject on which you can experiment.

"Metamorphosis"

Work in progress

Poker queen

Scanned collage with glue

That's exactly what I've been doing ever since: experimenting with images. I’ve been exploring images’ properties and potential by crumpling them, tearing them, rubbing them with sandpaper, spilling various kinds of liquids on them, gluing them, making collages out of them, crumpling again, tearing again … A certain craving for optical illusions has grown in me. I’ve been actively experimenting with angles and reflections and using all kinds of unusual materials: transparent book covers, toilet paper, sunflower oil, tangerine peel, etc. I’ve been also interfering digitally, but never too invasive. The DIY approach followed by minor digital post-processing is the foundation of my artistic method.

Although my focus has shifted to the image as such, my approach has never been purely formalist. If I would need to describe my artwork with only one word, this would be the word “poetic”. I create some kind of visual poetry that affects emotions and the subconscious through technicolor compositions and abstract silhouettes. I never invent stories, conceptions, or explanations. I just visualize internal processes ongoing in the heads, souls, and bodies of people: various psycho-emotional states, ways of mental existence, altered and oneiric states, spiritual and esoteric experiences. In this way, I aim to unroot the mental body of the world, to extract the concentrated Reality.

At a certain moment, I concluded that such a living, changeable, unstable organism as our reality cannot fit into a static image. I wanted my artwork to contain an element of time, to be fulfilled with structural dramaturgy and rhythm. I wanted to expand the effect of my art by using sound and words. I wanted my artwork to mutate as the viewer contemplates it. That’s how I came up with the idea to do moving images. However, animation didn't come to my mind immediately. I didn’t know how to describe or theorize what I was going to do. At first, my thoughts were somewhere between cinema and video art. This led me to the Experimental Film Laboratory of the Saint-Petersburg School of New Cinema. There I studied the theory of experimental and avant-garde cinema, film directing, film editing, directing of photography, history of cinema, video art, and performance art. Among other subjects, we had a separate module dedicated to experimental animation. At this course I got familiar with the works of Elizabeth Hobbs, Jodie Mack, Tony Oursler, Laura Harrison, and Sasha Svirsky, which greatly influenced my perception.

Unlike cinema, where the movement unfolds in front of the camera, in animation the illusion of movement is created by the artist himself. The artist can modify each frame individually like a separate artwork, and then determine how the frames succeed each other, how the movement is created. In this way, an animation artist creates and controls his version of time. Time and movement act here not only as a tool but also as an object of study, as something that can be questioned. This is a huge field for experiments. Animation allows us to mix analog techniques and digital technologies, play with different materials, combine abstract thinking and narrative storytelling, and moreover, do it all in a colorful and fun way. But what is most important is that animation leaves a lot of room for conventionality and irony. These reasons make animation the best medium for bringing my ideas to life.

Since I decided to develop myself in this area, I greedily devoured any information related to animation. From such pioneers as Oscar Fischinger and Norman McLaren to contemporary artists like David O’Reilly, Sophie Koko Gate, and Julia Mellen, I have been exploring the history of experimental animation, understanding its roots and development paths. From kineograph, thaumatrope, and pinscreen, to immersive new media installations, I have been discovering various tools for the creation and presentation of a moving image. I try to visit animation festivals, read books and articles, and follow online resources, such as Ubuweb and Edge of Frame to discover new names.

And of course, I practice a lot.

Now my professional interest consists in the research and production of experimental animation and its derivative forms, such as expanded animation and post-animation. In the future I see myself creating artworks for exhibitions and festival screenings, music videos, NFTs, and indie video games. I count that your guidance and expertise will help me to enter this future.