How does your cultural background influence the themes and narratives you explore in your digital worlds? How did growing up in post-Soviet Belarus influence your art?
Being from a post-Soviet cultural space is quite an intense experience. I was born almost immediately after the Soviet Union’s demise, and I grew up during the rise of technology, Y2K, pop music, strange cartoons playing on TV, all set against a backdrop of poverty and authoritarianism. But it was this reality, this escapism into media and technology while everything around you goes to hell and red lights on buildings commemorate WWII victory, that created a parallel space where I could escape. I could draw comics and create magical characters that I sort of saw as my alter-egos. My imagined world, with its fairies and moody teenage girls in really big pants, blended in with the gloom and monochrome reality of the physical world around me. Drawing allowed me to express myself by living in a world distinct from a rather gray reality where I could be myself without worrying about other people’s opinions or judgments. I also often tap into these childhood memories for inspiration by referencing objects like the chunky electronics and funky designs from that era.
Your digital worlds are described as places where you explore vulnerability, insecurity, and self-image through seemingly happy visuals. How do you balance the juxtaposition between the glossy, candy-coloured visuals and the deeper underlying narratives?
Since I sometimes view my characters as my alter-egos, it makes it much easier for me to present them as a more intense and confident version of myself. At the heart of my work – and the primary motivation for my art – is an attempt to make sense of my perplexing emotions, to convey some disturbing feeling or the desire to overcome and transcend that feeling. At that point, I begin to imagine characters who, in their world and in their way, would be able to turn things around and overcome their fears and insecurities. The worlds these characters inhabit are bright, colorful, and bubbly, resembling their real-world surroundings but more toy-like. I enjoy creating dollhouse-like environments in which even inanimate objects have their unique personalities.
You use VR sculpting software to give your works a doughy appearance, contributing to their imperfection and intuitiveness. How does working in virtual reality enhance your creative process compared to traditional sculpting methods, and what draws you to this particular medium?
I have a strong fascination with physical (art) objects, but I was rarely able to create something beautiful out of physical materials. Working in a digital space has allowed me to tweak, redesign, and undo things without making a total mess. I realized a long time ago that I prefer to work intuitively and quickly with sprawling changes, which seemed to be an unusual approach to 3D creation. Just like for most people, my introduction to 3D started with gray cubes and hard-surface sculpting, which never really appealed to me in its precision and technicality. I continued to work hard to search for my voice, as I was very drawn to the idea of bringing my drawings to life in 3D. After borrowing my boyfriend’s VR glasses, I discovered the world of virtual sculpting, which changed my perspective on digital sculpting completely. Being able to move your body in space, use controllers as physical tools, and have an endless supply of clay is extremely liberating. It felt so much more natural to sculpt in this way rather than with a mouse on the screen.
You mentioned experimenting with AI materials and 3D-scanned textures in your recent work. How do these new techniques contribute to your creative vision and expand the possibilities of your artistic practice?
In general, I prefer to create or draw textures myself, as it more accurately reflects my artistic vision. I like it when as many elements as possible are made by me as opposed to downloading models or textures. Nevertheless, AI has become a new tool that has provided me with the opportunity to create new and strange textures for my work. I don’t usually generate images guided only by texture input, but reference some of my existing work and textures. There’s something exciting about this AI collaboration, because in the end the physical result comes from the machine, but it only reached that goal because of your inputs. I’m honestly a little disappointed in the precision of outcomes from newer generations of AI. I feel like when it was still less accurate in generating images, the results were much more surreal and interesting, as opposed to being strictly representative.
Can you discuss the process of developing narratives for your digital worlds? Do you start with a specific concept or theme in mind, or do you allow the narrative to evolve organically as you work on the piece?
Usually my starting point is a thought, an emotion, or a feeling, something I’m experiencing at that very moment. I do a lot of different sketches in my sketchbook, but I almost never go back to those drawings for inspiration when I need to create 3D work, because those sketches and emotions are something I felt at the time and I don’t want to return to it. So yeah, I would say that my work grows organically and can end up becoming anything. Usually I come up with one character, or alter ego, who through her pose or action conveys what I’m feeling at the moment, and that character is the basis of the story. All the other elements already grow organically during the process and I almost never know what to expect. I used to put together moodboards of the elements that inspire me, all sorts of references for creating this or that object or pose, but now I just go into VR and mold how I feel.
What do you hope viewers take away from experiencing your digital worlds, and how do you navigate the balance between creating visually captivating artwork while inviting viewers to engage with the meaning and emotion?
I’m glad that people connect with my work on different levels – sometimes just visually, like colors and shapes, and sometimes the less obvious layers of experience and emotion. In fact, I like to create work that is both relatable and confusing in equal measure. While I often lay down a slightly darker meaning as the basis for all of my work, I would like the viewers to still feel a little inspiration and joy when viewing the result, because ultimately the purpose of my work is to transcend and to be a little happier, it’s a desire for transformation and self-expression.
Our current theme is Sugar Rush. If art was eye candy, what would be your favourite sweet treat?
I tend to not think of my personal work as an “eye-candy” per se, because this term can remove the essence of the work and make it look like it is solely for visual satisfaction. Saying that, if my work has to be a candy, It will be something that’s one thing on a surface, and completely different on the inside. Like a pop-rock candy or one of these sugar-coated cranberries I used to eat when I was little. You go into it with a certain expectation but find out that it bubbles and changes its taste when you take it in.
