The Artist's Workshop. 2021-2026
"Counting Rhyme II", mixed technique, 2023
photos: Vasilisa Nemova, 2024
panorama of a large room
"Left Bank", installation, video art, performance documentation, bread, plaster, wood, salt, 2021
"Слова", коллаж, шелкография, акрил, 2021
"Olya, go fuck yourself", installation, video art, projection, 2021
"The Point of Pain", a performance document, 2024
"CIS I"
a series of photo collages, festive papier-mâché masks, 2022
"Half Past Seven", paper, acrylic. 2021 Photos: Oksana Reiman. 2022
2024
Documentation of "The Swing" Performance, 2023
"Plush Album: My Body Does It Better Than I Do", photo album, photo collages, text, 2022
"Intermezzo", found object, video art, 2021
"House", tracing paper, graphite, foam cardboard, 2021
documentation of the performance "Little Rooster", 2025
video documentation of the performance "Petushok", directed by Vasilisa Nemova, 2025
2025
panorama of the corridor and the small room
"Looking Glass", oil, orgalith, 2023, series "Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors" "Incubator", photography, analog printing, 2021
"Intermezzo II", installation video, found object, laundry soap found in the workshop, 2023
"Little Liar II", oil, wood, 2024
"Little Liar", oil, wood, 2024
Photo: Vasilisa Nemova, 2025
panorama of the kitchen
OLYA, GO F** YOURSELF I Pop-up Solo Exhibition I
2026
Pop-up Solo Exhibition
I have never understood why saying goodbye to a place hurts so much: a house, a window, a garden, even a bend in the road. To that familiar feeling of a path that, with time, quietly stops being felt and stops weighing on you.
I have moved far too often. I am not sentimental, and I long ago forgot what home is supposed to mean — curtains, a dining table, a sense of peace. Yet somehow places, and especially the studios where I have hidden myself (very successfully) for years, eventually become deeply important to me.
Now this farewell feels like losing a friend.
I'm certainly no saint, but I have always painted the places where I lived far more often, and loved them far more deeply, than most of the people around me.
Dedicated to the studio where, with interruptions, escapes, and hiding, I spent the last five years.
20–21 June 2026