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Office Ukraine Wien
Art in Uncertain Times: Artists at Work

17. December 2024 CommunityInterviews

Over the past two and a half years, Office Ukraine has connected with hundreds of Ukrainian artists—spanning generations, mediums, and diverse life stages. These artists have shared their practices, challenges, and visions with us. Today, we present three distinct voices: a painter, a conductor, and a photographer. Each tells a unique story of how they continue their artistic work despite limited resources, where they find opportunities, and what inspires them to create in times of uncertainty.

Artists’ stories

Polina Makarova at work, © Courtesy of the artist

Polina Makarova, designer and painter

This summer, I realized that drawing isn’t just something I want to do—it’s a vital part of who I am. To make time for it, I’ve had to intentionally prioritize creativity in my daily life. I dedicate three free hours in the morning to art, before my afternoon work begins and my daughter returns from daycare. She’s not even two years old yet, but we share our daily chores together. Whether it’s loading the washing machine, unloading the dishwasher, or taking care of the cat, these moments—done with care and attention—become quality time for us both.

My workspace is modest: a small table by the window, where my laptop and a piece of cardboard for drawing reside. The limited size of my works reflects the constraints of space and time. However, I recently felt a growing need to scale up. I found an easel that fits snugly into the half-meter gap between the table and wardrobe. Yes, I dream of having more space or even a studio, but I remind myself that having any space at all is already a privilege.

My inspiration comes from landscapes—fragments of reality captured on my phone during walks through nature or city streets. I notice compositions or details that intrigue me, and later, as these photos accumulate, I begin to decode what they mean. This process is almost therapeutic. In my paintings, trees, plants, and their interactions with the environment often reflect my psychological states and emotional perceptions of the world.

Looking ahead, I plan to experiment with larger, abstract, and surreal works. One new series focuses on motherhood, with a central piece envisioned as a monumental painting of a nipple—a meter by a meter at least. At the same time, I will continue painting landscapes, balancing realism and abstraction, large and small. My goal is to create art that is both meaningful and therapeutic for myself and the viewer—something that carries poetic depth while remaining beautiful and comforting to hang on a wall.

The full-scale war, moving to Austria, and becoming a mother—all within one year—profoundly transformed my identity. I see it as a phoenix rising from the flames, a rebirth. I’ve learned not to postpone joy or creativity; I owe it to myself to live fully now. In Ukraine, I juggled so much work that I could only paint a handful of pieces a year. Today, I paint much more but still crave more time for creation.

I’m deeply grateful to Office Ukraine and to Austria for their immense support and the opportunities for growth and connection. It’s given me the space to focus on what matters most—art, healing, and rediscovering myself through the creative process.

Sergii Pavelko, self-portrait, © Courtesy of the artist

Sergii Pavelko, iconographer and photographer

For an artist, creativity is not a choice but a necessity. It is about taking any object and transforming it into something meaningful and beautiful. Photography, in particular, offers countless ways to reimagine reality, and this process has become my sanctuary, especially when other avenues—like icon painting—are not as accessible as they once were.

Before the war, iconography was 95% of my life. In Ukraine, I achieved success conducting workshops for children, teaching them the sacred art of icon painting. Here in Austria, however, interest in icons feels limited, even though they still resonate deeply with viewers at exhibitions. This is where analog photography entered my life.

From the series ‘Come and see me’ © Sergii Pavelko

With icon painting momentarily on pause, I shifted my focus to analog photography, creating images with ingenuity and resourcefulness. Austria’s rich photographic history and the decline of analog photography have led to opportunities I couldn’t have imagined: cameras that would cost hundreds of euros are found for next to nothing, sometimes broken but repairable. Expired film, considered useless by many, becomes my material for experimentation. For instance, my friends recently discovered an old roll of film, bought in the late 70s, in my family’s house in Ukraine. They sent it to me, and I used it to photograph my family here. The results were astounding—subtle imperfections, spots, and traces of time made the images even more precious. You never know what you will get, and that element of surprise is part of the magic.

The creative process thrives on limitations. My darkroom is not a professional studio; it’s a transformed bathroom. I seal the door with a blanket, turn off all the lights, and carefully memorize the placement of scissors, reels, and tools in the darkness. I shout into the corridor, warning my family not to enter. Once the negatives are developed, I move to the bathroom to complete the process, scanning the images and editing them digitally to achieve the desired result—adjusting light, adding shadows, or enhancing details. It’s a labor of love, filled with joy, anticipation, and experimentation.

My archive of films, stored carefully in special files, grows steadily. Each roll of film holds an emotional history, whether it’s a modern experiment or a family photograph on 40-year-old film. I often tell people: art is not about perfect conditions—it is about creating magic out of what you have. My workshop, which I built almost entirely for free by restoring and exchanging equipment, is a testament to this belief.

For me, both icons and photography carry immense symbolic weight. An icon preserves faith and tradition; a photograph captures fleeting moments of life, freezing time in a tangible image. Whether working on an icon or standing in a darkened toilet-turned-darkroom, the process itself brings fulfillment. It is deeply personal, an act of transformation and resilience, a way to keep creating beauty and meaning in a changing world.

Rafael Edesh performing © Courtesy of the artist

Rafael Edesh, conductor

As a conductor and musicologist, my artistic journey has deepened significantly since relocating to Austria. Immersed in the country’s rich musical heritage, I have expanded my repertoire to include a broader range of European composers, enriching my interpretative skills and broadening my artistic perspective. Austria’s vibrant cultural scene has introduced me to contemporary music trends, enabling me to weave innovative elements into both my performances and research. This experience has not only shaped my artistic expression but also fostered a more nuanced and fluid approach to both conducting and musicology.

Currently, as I actively seek professional opportunities, I continue to immerse myself in Vienna’s exceptional musical environment. I attend rehearsals led by esteemed maestros such as Christian Thielemann, observing their advanced techniques and gaining invaluable insights into interpretation and leadership. I also participate in masterclasses and workshops, refining my craft while staying connected to modern trends in music. As a guest student at the University of Music and Performing Arts Vienna (mdw), I am preparing for the master’s program entrance examination, striving to enhance both my academic depth and practical expertise. These encounters nurture my growth as a conductor, grounding me in tradition while inspiring a renewed artistic vision.

In the absence of an orchestra of my own, I rehearse in my head, letting music emerge as I walk through Vienna’s streets, absorbing its rhythms and sounds. Conversations with people, the hum of daily life, and unexpected moments of inspiration sustain me. This summer, I often visited Mahler’s grave—he remains one of my greatest inspirations. During one visit, I stumbled upon a musical score left behind by a young Austrian composer. A simple coincidence, but it led to a meaningful connection; we remain in touch, and such encounters infuse my life with energy and purpose.

The challenges Ukrainian artists facing are profound. Many artists have been displaced, forced to flee conflict zones or work under unsafe and uncertain conditions. It means to liva in a constant uncertainty that makes creative process even harder. For those who remain, there is often an unspoken pressure to create works that reflect war, resilience, and national identity, while balancing these themes with personal creative expression.

Despite these hardships, Ukrainian artists continue to demonstrate extraordinary resilience, adaptability, and creativity. Art has become a means of survival—a way to document history, express resistance, and unite communities in times of crisis.