Death is part of everyone's life, yet grief remains difficult to talk about in our society. We tend to push death away, keep it private, and move through mourning as quickly as possible. This made me think about the last vessel we use in our lives, the object that embodies us after the body is gone. I was struck by how impersonal and industrial this object often is. How can something that carries our body and everything that remains of us feel so anonymous?
I started imagining a different kind of funerary object, one that could hold a relationship rather than ashes. Shekel & Anubis Agency takes the form of a fictional funeral agency for post-mortem self-determination. The project brings together sculptural urns, including a double urn conceived for two people who choose to remain together, a Fountain of Lamentation, and wall portals. The fountain imagines mourning as a public space, a place to gather and grieve together. The wall portals are cenotaphs that create a physical space for someone or something that exists only through memory.
For the display the urns are placed on a pyramid made of nine computer blocks. The structure recalls an ancient burial site, but the computers also suggest another kind of vessel, one that stores what remains of us as data. The vessels hold the body; the computers hold its digital traces. Together they sit somewhere between a tomb and a server, between burial and the afterlife of information.
The project comes from a simple question: what does care look like when the person we care for is no longer here? For me, caring for the dead is also a way of caring for the living. I wanted to give physical form to what often gets stuck inside us during grief. This is where the emojis came from. We already use them when words are hard to choose, giving a feeling a shape we can recognize and share. I translated this familiar language into ceramic forms that can be placed in urns, alongside a letter, a flower, a piece of jewelry, or another personal object. Each urn becomes a place where the relationship does not have to end, but can continue in another way.
The birth of Venus / Deconstruction
stoneware, luster, synthetic hair2024
Since my early exposure to art history in my teens, Sandro Botticelli's "The Birth of Venus" has stuck with me. This painting shows the goddess of love and beauty, a nude woman on a massive shell, born from sea spray and carried by the wind. Inspired by classical Greek statues, Botticelli portrays Venus with modesty, using her long hair to cover up. In today's world obsessed with beauty, youth, and the "perfect" body, this young blonde Venus still represents an ideal woman from a male-centric perspective.
My installation challenges this narrative by deconstructing Botticelli's masterpiece and dissecting its gender, lust, and sexual symbols. Inspired by my cultural background and female socialization, I reimagine Venus in a contemporary context. The resulting sculptures represent different actors within the narrative.
In "Venus Oyster" I deliberately transform Venus's wavy locks from blonde to grey, questioning conventional notions of beauty. "Venus Feet" stands for the most common fetish for body parts today. "Zephyr Amphora" with long blue hair symbolizing the wind, takes on a provocative form, shaped like a plug, while "Chloris Roses" in gold, red, and blue impart distinct meanings to the rose. Introducing an interactive piece, "Holy Nimbus" I invite viewers to step into the goddess's feet by trying it on. This ergonomically shaped sculpture fits every head, whether male or female.
'Call for action' is a series of sculptural pieces that should be activated through physical interaction and instinctive expression of a movement or gesture.
With the 'call for action' project I'm exploring the tension between constraints and freedom, between strength and vulnerability. Our reality is defined by rules, traditions and borders, but all these can also trigger spontaneous and unexpected reactions.
The pieces are inspired by colourful plastic hoop bracelets from the 90's that I used to find in my mothers jewellery box, they are a metaphor for mefor the epoch of the golden age in the late Soviet Union, when decades of social constraints clashedwith the unleashed new freedoms.
People are invited to interact with these forms, to try them on and to act against constraints of the object by using their own bodies as a tool. They should adapt to the shape, escape the movement restricting structure or surrender and hold still.
They may not fit everyone or be comfortable, I'm offering the wearer the accessories to experience the power of physical bound and to feel the importance of movement without confinement.
This project consists of a set of colourful body sculptures that are calling for performative action: to be worn and involved with semi-restrained movements, evoking a state of flux and struggle.
With every new position on the human body they can generate new movement reactions and positions.
Movement research with contemporary dancer Stella Perniceni
Being an artist has turned me into a researcher: While exploring ceramic art, I came across several puzzling foundational paradigms rooted in the basics of pottery-making and female identity. On one hand, archeologists and historians attribute pottery and working with clay in nearly all civilizations as a feminine craft. On the other hand, however, if we delve into the roots of the historical chronicles of ceramic art, we find that all the documented, signed pottery in the world museum collections has been produced by male artists. Female-produced ceramics are considered to have little or no esthetic value and are often labeled as “anonymous” or “No Name”.
In my No Name project I deliberately use simple archaic silhouettes of the ancient vessels, linking historical traditions to the modern role of women in contemporary society. I combine wheel throwing and “urdido” sculpting, one of the most ancient methods still used in many parts of the world, mainly by women.
My vessels are full-bodied in shape and form. Colors and surfaces are inspired by makeup aesthetics. It is my gender-related commentary linked to a so-called truly “feminine touch” and a way to pay homage to the women who have gone unnamed in the world of ceramics. Every piece is an embodiment of something that I as a woman encounter in my daily routine dictated by gender socialization and hierarchies of a binary nature.
no name moodboard
Matanza grows out of my own memories and a photographic family archive of the pig slaughter I witnessed as a child at my grandmother’s house. These memories are full of contradictions: the warmth of family gatherings set against the raw violence of the slaughter, making them both bitter and sweet. I remember standing at a distance, watching my grandmother, someone who had experienced hunger, taking control with the calm precision of necessity. The pig’s scream, the heavy smell of burnt skin, the moment when fresh meat turned into food for the year. I chose not to participate. That decision has stayed with me. And yet, years later, I found myself returning to this moment through my work.
Making sausages out of clay became a form of emotional repair. As a child, the Matanza felt too overwhelming, too conflicted, at once a feast and an act of violence. For my family, it was never just tradition; it was survival. During Soviet winters, when supermarket shelves were empty, this ritual meant security. Working with clay now, I return to that memory and slowly transform it. What I once couldn’t face, I shaped with my own hands.
