Julia Beliaeva

Julia Beliaeva

Hotel Quarantine,2021

Julia Beliaeva is Ukrainian multidisciplinary artist. Her artistic practice spans across a variety of mediums, including digital sculpture as well as traditional one.

Digital painting, 3D scanning/modeling/printing, and XR environments are complemented by very physical ceramics in Julia’s oeuvre. Fragile nature of the porcelain, alongside its connotation as of something from the past, lures Julia into frequent experiments aimed to rethink traditional media through contemporary tech.

Julia Beliaeva is gracefully balancing between virtuality and physicality, merging the past and the present in a carefully articulated world.The glazed surface of a fine porcelain correlates with the smoothness of digital gleam. Julia uses the latest technology to examine the ghosts from the past. She disrupts the very nature of a medium by merging the fragments of opposing contexts and ideas. Her dichotomous approach helps to construct an alternative dimension able to mirror reality, as well as the past.

Capitoline Wolf, 2021

In the wake of Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Julia had to flee from Kyiv, leaving everything she had under constant threat. While the entire world is witnessing the Russian atrocities in Ukraine, she, as an artist, tries to find a way to channel it through her art. Meanwhile, in light of recent events, her old works resonate even stronger today.

Salome, porcelaine, Julia Beliaeva 2019

Perhaps, it is a very personal question but can you tell me about the first days of war in your life?

It was an early-morning call from my mom, she was crying “a war has started”. We live on the 12th floor of the building which is facing the airport, so the first thing I did was look in the window. And then I realized that in more than ten years we were living at this place, it was actually the first time when the lights in the airport were out…  Perhaps it seems insignificant, but the very moment you see the total darkness at the place where the airport’s lights should be - you understand that it is serious.

The next thing was a visit from our neighbors, they moved to our building in 2015 (running away from Donetsk region). They were standing at our door with packed suitcases, ready to leave. As I understand, it was a second time when they had to pack their entire lives in a few suitcases.

During the day, we were trying to pack the most important things from home and the studio. We spent the night in a bomb shelter, we did it only once because it was a terrible experience. And our son was horrified. We slept in our bathroom for the next few nights and it was more or less ok until the morning when we woke up because of a very loud explosion. The Russian army was trying to hit an airport. That was the moment when I decided to leave. I just couldn’t stand the thought that my child was in danger.

I’ve taken the necklace that grandmother gave me for my 16th birthday, the laptop with all my work and a camera. It was proposed to hide the artworks from my studio, but I’ve tried to calm myself with the fact that I’m alive and I have all the works in the digital format. On the 7th day of war, my son and I left Ukraine. My husband took us to the border with Moldova, he couldn’t leave.

Hypnos (porcelaine), Julia Beliaeva 2020

Where are you now?

Some friends invited me to their place, but I’ve decided that I don’t want to just sit somewhere, I want to work. So I accepted the proposal from Masha Faurschou, Copenhagen-based galerist of Ukrainian descent (SABSAY gallery).

It was already a late, dark evening, it was snowing, and there was an endless line of cars. So we crossed the border by foot. Let’s say it wasn’t the best moment in my life… Just going into an unknown direction together with my kid and crying.

In Copenhagen we renewed the old contacts with Alfred Weidinger and decided to finally do the exhibition in Linz (Austria). We’ve discussed it a long time ago but never had a chance to realize. Therefore, I’m staying in Linz now, at artists residency by OÖ Culture. We’re preparing an exhibition. And I’m grateful to all the people who helped me with it.

The last human mother and baby (VR, digital print), Julia Beliaeva 2015

Imagining how you had to run from your home with a child in your hands, I can’t help but think about your old artwork “The Last Human Mother and Baby”. Can you tell how it came to life? And how do you perceive it now, in the wake of war?

Yes, this terrible situation kinda brought a new breath to this work. I started this project in 2014, a year when my son was born. And also the year when Maidan (Revolution of Dignity in Ukraine) had happened. Looking at it in retrospect, I realize now that all eight years from that particular moment were filled with a strange feeling that something bad is about to happen. I clearly remember how after the annexation of Crimea in 2014 I had two very frightening dreams, basically the nightmares. There were a lot of people running from something, deserted metro station and dead soldier looking right into my eyes. This eerie feeling as an aftertaste was following me for quite some time. At that time, it felt more like postpartum anxiety aggravated by volatility in the country. With this strange anticipation I’ve started to work on “The Last Human Mother and Baby”.

The scenery of this work assumed that something bad had already happened, only the mother and her child left alive. The part of this artwork is in virtual reality, which appears as a series of repetitive digital landscapes. It feels like a paradise but the paradise couldn’t be man-made.

I finished the artwork in 2015. Of course, today this work provokes thoughts about all the mothers that had to run with the children in their hands, and those who were attacked by Russian soldiers. Most of them also wanted to run but they couldn’t… I guess this work is still about animal instincts in every possible way.

Καρυάτιδες, Julia Beliaeva 2021

The time gap between your “Last Human Mother and Baby” (which was born digital) and Rousseau’s “Hungry Lion Throws Itself on the Antelope” (oil on canvas) is only 110 years. What has changed in those hundred years?

Originally in Rousseau’s artwork, the lion bites into the neck of an antelope. So basically, it is a scene of violence with a paradisal landscape in the background. I wanted to work with this “paradisal” element. Moreover, the primitive style of Rousseau and his very specific kind of gradient perfectly matched with my digital approach. I saw the parallel between the gradient in his oil paintings and my own technique. As for the changes… Well, we can see that nothing really changed in these hundred years. Unfortunately. People are still driven by aggression, greediness and primeval instincts. We want to believe in tolerance and positive changes, yet the world isn’t there now.

As you may know, Rousseau was also affected by the warfare in France. He created the painting “War” more than 20 years after the Siege of Paris (1871). Therefore, it seems like he needed a long time in order to artistically approach the horrors of the Franco-Prussian war. Today, while you’re witnessing the never-ending flow of atrocities in your homeland, does it prompt you to do the art or paralyze the creative potential instead?

It is a hard question. I mean, I have been working a lot with the hard topics. For instance,  Holodomor (Terror-Famine, 1932-1933) and specifically one horrific photo of Ukrainian child with the signs of starvation has prompted me to work on “Seeing Is Believing”. It was a truly tragic and horrible page in Ukrainian history. So it demanded a lot of strength from my side. However, when it’s happening here and now, just in front of your eyes… It paralyzes, for sure.

Although, we need to find the strength, and the new channels to reveal the reality through art. Because with all the filters for “potentially sensitive” or “unwanted” content in social media, reality somehow slips away. There are so many photos, videos and all kinds of documentation of Russian war crimes in Ukraine and it’s very valuable. We need to re-think those events, to reflect the nightmares in the new dimension and to show it to the world.

Currently, I’m working on thematic sketches, as a preparation for paintings on ceramics. These sketches involve the scenes from a war. The idea is to paint these scenes with blue  paint on white ceramics. Even though it’s hard - we have to talk about what’s happening in Ukraine, to use all available visual levels in order to tell the truth about the brutal Russian invasion.

Social meditation (ceramics), Julia Beliaeva 2016

Another work of yours that seems quite prophetic today is a “Social Meditation'' (2016). From one side, it is an innocent nature of porcelain, from the other - imperialist aggression. Small figurines depict kids, but they are pointing the guns at each other… Some kind of dichotomy is inherent in your work.

There is a famous Soviet figurine portraying the boy with a butterfly. By looking at it, you realize the inherent confrontation between this kind of naive, cute porcelain and the violence, aggression and repressions hidden by the Soviet regime. Therefore, I’ve decided to merge two opposing worlds. Artists in the Soviet Union were allowed to portray only happy childhood. Doing the opposite would cause the punishment. There was a conflict between propagandistic art and the truth. So in my work I try to use the old medium but with obtained freedom.

At the time of working on “Social Meditation”, I was inspired by Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb”, especially the famous scene when politicians are sitting in a circle and talking about the bomb which was already on its way to hit the target. It reminded me of the pioneers (Soviet scouts) around the campfire. So, in my mind, those porcelain boys depict the world leaders. All of them have weapons directed against each other. In this manner, they try to find some solution.

Museum of Dematerialized, Julia Beliaeva 2017

Duality is even more visible in “Museum of Dematerialised Small Porcelain Figurines” (2017). It seems like you’re trying to exorcize the old demons from the Soviet “everydayness” through the newest technology (such as 3D scanning, VR, AR). Is it a way to overcome the Soviet trauma with contemporary technology and some sense of future?

Yes, you can look at it like that. Soviet figurines were propagandistic but at the same time they were a part of history for Ukrainian porcelain. They are not just some cute artifacts on a flea market, but rather a serious segment of Ukrainian visual culture. We need to keep in mind that many ideas couldn’t be revealed at the time when those figurines were made. So, this practice was quite powerless and incapable in the Soviet period. Porcelain was like the pink glasses of the Soviet Union. Going more into details regarding “Dematerialised Museum”, the black signs that were used for augmented reality, also acted as small requiems to what was already lost. The black boards had the names of artists who made the figurines and with the help of AR tech, visitors had a chance to discover the digital replicas of the porcelain works. They appeared like digital ghosts from the past.

“Dematerialised Museum” was realized back in 2017 and it already heavily relied on AR. “The Last Human Mother and Baby” - even earlier (2015) and it incorporated VR. It is an early adoption of immersive tech and XR (extended reality), especially when we talk about Ukraine. I imagine it wasn’t an easy task.

In 2013, I clearly stated that I am a digital artist. It was quite hard because people just refused to understand such a decision. They were commenting on my art with a slight disappointment, saying something like “if only it was an oil painting”. I was encouraged only by my European friends. Only in 2015, it slowly moved in some direction. Curators started to consider my works. But still, it was hard to resist the idea that nobody would buy a piece of digital art. You had to make a physical art to be considered an artist.

However, the situation had changed after the quarantine. My old works got some kind of re-vision. For instance, “The Last Human Mother and Baby” was recently sold as NFT. The funds were donated for the needs of the Ukrainian Army, and also some percentage of the sale returned to me as an author. Thanks to this initiative, I can feel more or less capable and also help other people. Although, if it wasn’t suitable for my work - I wouldn’t do it. I’m not into making digital art for the sake of NFTs.

Human Flag (video), Julia Beliaeva 2019

Are you planning any new NFT projects?

There’s a funny story about that. Before the war, I was proposed to make an NFT collection. It was interesting but at some point I was told that I need to consider the market and demand… I answered that I won’t draw the monkeys. It was the end of the conversation (laughing). Talking seriously, I’m thinking of extending my project “Human Flag” as a NFT collection.

You mentioned that quarantine changed a lot of things for you. It makes sense to talk about “Hotel Quarantine” at this point. This work is mysteriously alluring. Can you tell what stands behind those eerie imagery?

This work was created in the context of the first quarantine. Of course, in comparison with a war the stress enhanced by quarantine doesn’t feel like stress anymore. But at that very moment, we thought that it’s utterly hard to stay at home without the possibility to travel and so on. I had many dreams about traveling and hotels as some kind of trap. As if you traveled somewhere and you’re in a hotel but there is no way back from it. Those dreams became the basis for the digital works. And also, there was an article on CNN about Black Light experiment aimed to show how quickly a virus can spread. By using fluorescent substance (which was visible only under UV) on the hands of participants, scientists visualized the speed of virus spreading from person to person in a restaurant buffet at a hotel. Entire scenery was coloured in blue (because of UV), and that is the reason why blue light dominates in this work. Overall, this work is about the strange dreams and ideas carried to extremes.

HotelQ, Julia Beliaeva 2021

You’ve already mentioned the work “Seeing is Believing” (2021) as one of the hardest projects. How did you manage to realize such complicated work?

Every year in Ukraine we commemorate the day of Holodomor’s victims. For me personally, this day is very tragic. I always try to light the candle in the memory of the people who experienced such a terrible act of terror. It is very hard emotionally. My grandmother was a Holodomor survivor and she had told me the stories about their starvation, how they tried to find at least something edible in the forest and how a handful of wheat grains became a salvation in times like that.  So, at some point, I’ve decided to make an artwork about it and to overcome this trauma through art practice.

For more than one year I was continuously trying to approach it. Usually, I scan people for my work. But for this one, I’ve had to build the figure of a child from zero (in accordance with the photo by Alexander Wienerberger, 1933). As we know, many people don’t believe in Holodomor (as intentional man-made famine). Therefore, I wanted to materialize this poor child at least in porcelain. I wanted to make them see and eventually to believe in a historical fact. She’s just a sculpture, but there’s a document that comes with this sculpture - a real photo of a child with the signs of starvation in Kharkiv, 1933. You can’t avoid the reality of this photo. In this case, art completes the photo.

I met Björn Geldhof (an artistic director at PinchukArtCentre) at the exhibition. Later he visited my studio, and I told about the idea of this work. He liked it. This is how it came to life in the “Remember Yesterday” show. Production of this work was insanely complicated, even though I was working together with the team from Kyiv Porcelain Factory, it took more than 2 months to make this sculpture from porcelain. Till the very last moment we didn’t know if we would manage to make it work.

Seeing is Believing (biscuit porcelain), Julia Beliaeva 2021

And what was the reaction from the people?

Let’s say that the people from the art scene mostly didn’t understand the relevance of this project at that time. They perceived it as something outdated in a way. But what really amazed me during the exhibition is that visitors felt connected to it, some of them were crying and no one did any silly selfie with this sculpture. I was afraid that people will take it lightly and will start doing selfies without any respect to the tragedy. Yet, they didn’t and I was happy about that.

 
 


interview KRISTINA BORHES

 

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