The installation “Go VS Bubble Gum” engages with the game of Go as a form of strategic
thinking, based on sustained attention, pause, and the ability to work with emptiness. The
classical Go board is extremely neutral: its lines neither distract nor carry imagery, serving
merely as a canvas for developing an individual strategy. The meaning of the game does not
arise from visual diversity, but from the ability to maintain a complex system of interrelations
over time.
The contemporary cultural environment functions differently. It is saturated with colors, images,
and stimuli that do not support concentration but constantly interrupt it. In such conditions,
strategy gives way to reaction, and thinking to superficial choices that do not imply
consequences.
In the installation, the structure of the Go board is preserved in a 13×13 format; however, the
traditional stones are replaced with actual Marukawa chewing gum packs. The material is not
subjected to artistic transformation and retains its functional and visual identity. A mass-
consumption object is directly transferred into the space of a strategic game.
Bright colors and the variety of packaging do not aid concentration but distract from it. Taste and image replace strategy, turning the board into a space of constant sensory stimulation. While the classical Go board strives for silence, the installation demonstrates oversaturation and noise.
For me, the choice of the Marukawa brand is essential. Emerging in the mid-20th century and
accompanying everyday culture for decades, this chewing gum becomes a marker of the cultural trajectory of the 20th century in Asia and beyond—a movement from discipline and structure to mass consumption, from sustained attention to instant gratification. In this sense, the installation captures the result of a historical shift.
The project also has a personal dimension. My experience is associated with a mode of thinking close to the logic of Go, whereas observing my children reveals a change in the very “board” on which the game is played. I cannot explain to them what strategy, analysis, or logic are—they see only bright images that rapidly change.
Go Vs Bubble Gum does not reproduce the game nor offer a moralizing statement. The work
captures a cultural shift—from a structure that allows thinking to an excessive diversity that
hinders it.

The "Production Journal" project is an attempt to transfer my experience of working in a scientific institution into the artistic field. When I began to realize that no one would ever read the scientific articles published by the institute, my colleagues, or myself, I became aware of the fact that this artistic act was growing out of a practice of recording that had lost its intended audience.
In the past, the technique of gotaku (ink prints of fish) had an applied function of recording the catch. In this project, I am preserving this function, but its purpose is no longer relevant.
- production without consumer demand, tons of unclaimed food, empty built ghost towns, unnecessary archives – the absurdity of late systems and the devaluation of labor.
In the Production Journal that I am creating, I will record the conditions of printing and
the number of fish heads. I continue to record, knowing that the result will not be
used as a document, data, or an image that carries information.
The process continues despite the loss of necessity. The project's material is fish heads purchased from local markets, a residual product of the fish processing cycle. I will record the sounds of morning fish trading in the markets and use the recording as production noise. I create prints every day, functioning as an executor of the system rather than as an author of a single image. A workday corresponds to one large sheet of paper measuring 100×300 cm, on which the maximum possible number of prints is placed.
Work on the sheet stops not because of aesthetic, but because of physical and time
constraints of the process. I assume that I will want to carefully write one of the hundreds of prints with ink and pigments for no reason or consequences: to demonstrate the indifference of the system to my efforts. Error, displacement, and pressure irregularity are considered not as failures, but as structural properties of the system. I accompany the project with minimal procedural documentation (dates, place of purchase, number of prints, duration of work) on A4 sheets stitched as a production journal at the factory.
The project's exposition is a slice of an infinite spiral shape. In space, large sheets with getaku prints line up in a spiral, which in the exposition has physical entry and exit points, but as an ideal shape it is endless. I'll put my production magazine on a stool in the center of the exhibition - as the core of the system. The fixations. The viewer finds himself inside a slice of the system, the movement of which leads to A production magazine. Perhaps I will place the means of production nearby: rags, rollers, brushes. The sound of the fish market as a background parameter of the process forms an authentic acoustic environment. The system itself is not intended to be completed and can be continued beyond the limits of this exposure — in time, in another space or in other configurations.

The project explores the personal experience of moving to the paradise city of Sochi and how the mass death of palm trees becomes a threat of its loss.
For me, Sochi has become a space of escape from the Siberian cold — not only physically,
but also existentially. The city with palm trees, subtropical flora and mild climate was perceived as a place where warmth exists constantly, where the environment itself supports a sense of life, hope and security.
Palm trees have been more than just plants for me for a long time. They created a sense of security and hope, and became psychological. A source of heat. The geometry of palm leaves against the urban landscape changed everything. Due to the mass death of trachycarpuses due to an invasive pest, the image began crumble. It turned out that the "paradise" landscape is just as vulnerable as any other artificially maintained state.
In this project, I explore how the urban image and flora affect my perception of life,
my hopes and disappointments. Art here becomes a way to live what is happening
— I am in the gap between believing in paradise and realizing its ephemerality. Behind the screen on the wall is a vest made of fibers of the bark of the trachycarpus. This object appears as an attempt to conserve heat — not metaphorically, but almost literally.
Palm trees, which for many years have created a feeling of mild climate and psychological comfort, are disappearing. The vest becomes a gesture of naive preservation: an attempt to keep the heat physically, although he is obviously not able to give it. The vest is placed on a bamboo stick suspended by two ends, acting as hangers.
Behind the screen on the wall is a vest made of fibers of the bark of the trachycarpus. This
The object appears as an attempt to conserve heat — not metaphorically, but almost literally.
Palm trees, which for many years have created a feeling of mild climate and psychological comfort, are disappearing. The vest becomes a gesture of naive preservation: an attempt to keep the heat physically, although he is obviously not able to give it. The vest is placed on a bamboo stick suspended by two ends, acting as hangers.
The documentary layer of the project is represented by a screen with an open marketplace page where dried palm leaves are sold. Care instructions and comments. The documents are presented in their entirety, without editing or interpretation. These materials show how a lost image of nature turns into a commodity, and a dried leaf turns into a souvenir from an inaccessible paradise, which you can buy, steam, hang on the wall and enjoy it as a piece of your dream of paradise.

As part of the course of Jan Ginzburg at the Moscow School of Art Practice courseWe were working on a project to recreate the conditions of the 1991 exhibition "In the vicinity of the Regina Gallery", a project by Oleg Kulik and Andrey Monastyrsky. When studying the materials available and preserved from that era, my attention was attracted by a video clip of a report from the scene of the event – where the surroundings of the gallery and the feedback of a visitor to the gallery were filmed. I couldn't pass by and made homage to this video. The video series and the text are as close as possible in structure, but the action takes place in 2026 and already in Sochi. (The reconstruction of the exhibition itself in electronic form was made by our group Terentyeva V., Poluektova V., Kovalchuk Yu., Yakimenko O., Battalova A., Klabukova A.)

The original 1991 video is here
https://rutube.ru/video/6c1c39eef8570bc287607aa0594362b5/?ysclid=mlz5a3chu4737281304
The homage I made can be viewed here
https://vk.com/video423838316_456239035