How do we create in moments of extreme suffering? What role does art play to placate or heal emotional pain? These are questions multidisciplinary artist and activist Daria Pugachova explores with her dynamic and interactive creations. Born in Rivne, Ukraine, Pugachova was always a creative. She studied architecture at Kyiv National University of Construction and Architecture, and for years played the drums with her band, Panivalkova. However, in 2019, when her band ended, Pugachova pivoted towards just as engaging and interactive works, exploring concepts of grief, dreams and community.
On Tuesday, Nov. 12, Pugachova came to Brandeis to speak to students and faculty about the evolution of her artwork and her experiences, since leaving Panivalkova, through the devastating war in Ukraine. After her music career, Pugachova said she wanted to switch to performance art because she likes to engage with those around her. To her, galleries are isolated and disconnected from what people know and feel — interactive art thus bridges the gap between piece and audience.
The first piece Pugachova shared with attendees perfectly exemplified her goal of connecting with audiences. Her project “I WILL WAKE UP WHEN THIS FOUNTAIN IS FILLED UP,” was performed in the destroyed Thumbelina Fountain in Rivne, Ukraine. According to Pugachova, the fountain had been destroyed since the collapse of the Soviet Union — it was as if “life disappeared.” Thus, for her piece, she slept in the fountain for two days and six hours, while residents of Rivne adorned the fountain’s walls with drawings, aspirations about the future and writings about the fountain. As she was awakened, the fountain was awakened. The piece left such an impact that the mayor of the city promised to finally restore the fountain, but with Russia’s war on Ukraine, those plans were cast aside.
The second piece Pugachova shared with us was called “Microcosmos,” a documentary in which Pugachova explores life in the post-Soviet neighborhood of Polovky in Poltava, posing it as a microcosm of the universe. In this film, Pugachova is dressed as an astronaut and asks the residents of Polovky about their lives and dreams. The entire film was set in a neighborhood park, honoring the childlike wanderlust of the residents and Pugachova herself. The film premiered in February 2022 in a performance art center in Poltava. Two weeks after the debut, Russia began its war on Ukraine. The hopes and dreams of these residents are thus frozen in time — the film symbolizing a moment of peace and wonder before the storm.
After the war started on Feb. 24, 2022, Pugachova took a month away from her art to weave camouflage nets for Ukrainian soldiers. This action of weaving and what it symbolized became prevalent in Pugachova’s other art. She states on her website, “The camouflage net made by women, men and children isn’t only an object of protection, but also the concentrated energy of faith. When I think about the net, it’s also about connection. I believe we can live in a future where everyone has a place to do what they love —- working as one organism in freedom and independence.” As such, the next artwork Pugachova shared with us was her performance piece, “I WILL CLOSE THE SKY SO YOU COULD BREATHE.”
“I WILL CLOSE THE SKY SO YOU COULD BREATHE” was a piece Pugachova spent four months planning to take place at the Brotherly Mound Monument in Sofia, Bulgaria. The original intention of the piece was to create a demonstration of unity and togetherness as the audience joins Pugachova to hold up this net that would “cover the sky” — protecting Ukraine from the Russian missiles. However, on the day of the performance, Pugachova stood alone. No one came to support her, which in hindsight Pugachova believes reflected the situation in Ukraine even more than her original plan. Nevertheless, she moved forward with the performance. Pugachova showed the audience a video of the entire piece, featuring a cinematographer tracking her movements and drone footage highlighting how small and solitary she appeared in the vast expanse of the surrounding field. In spite of her singularity, as soon as she started speaking, her voice resonated throughout the room. During her performance, Pugachova sang a Ukrainian folk song, traditionally sung by young girls in the spring to attract their boyfriends. However, Pugachova transformed the song from one of young love to that of loss and desperation, singing it as a cry for those who were away at war.
Although Pugachova’s first iteration of the net was a solo venture, she brought the concept piece to other performances and conferences, most notably at the “Vienna World Conference 30 Years On: Our Rights — Our future.” At this conference, Pugachova invited other human rights stakeholders to join her in holding up a net, serving as a demonstration of their future hopes of protection and peace.
At this point, the conversation shifted from a declaration of resistance and hope to one of fear. At the end of 2022, Pugachova returned to Ukraine. For her, this was a more intense experience of war than when Russia first invaded. Since she was trapped in her apartment with a broken leg, Pugachova shared that this was when she encountered a fear of death. However, rather than receding into this feeling, Pugachova once again turned it into art.
In “Through The Wall,” Pugachova lay on one side of the “wall” demonstrating her fears, on the other, she asked her audience to share theirs. This performance highlighted the extreme isolation felt in moments of fear, while demonstrating how ultimately, a lot of our worries are not so different after all.
The final work Pugachova shared with us was her performance of “CITIES OF WAR.” At the time this piece was conceptualized, it was 2023, nearly two years after the war in Ukraine began. Pugachova was at her residency in the Netherlands, a relatively peaceful place in comparison to her home. The dissonance of the turmoil back home with the calm around her disturbed Pugachova, to the point that she began writing “THE WAR IN UKRAINE IS STILL GOING ON” again and again in her diary until the page turned black. From this moment of distress came an incredibly powerful artwork. From this moment of distress emerged an incredibly powerful artwork. Pugachova realized she had to perform the concept, and upon learning that the United Nations International Criminal Court would be holding a hearing on Russia’s crimes of genocide in Ukraine, she took a page from her diary and transformed it into an interactive performance.
In “CITIES OF WAR,” Pugachova boxed herself into a plexiglass cube which symbolized her home in Ukraine. Then, for five hours — one before the hearing, three for the hearing and one after the hearing — she sat writing over and over “the war in Ukraine is still going on” until she was concealed in a cube of black, reminding the world of the reality Ukrainians continue to face as we continue on with our lives.
Pugachova finished her entire speech with a poem she performed during her most recent residency at the Blaffer Art Museum in Houston, Texas. She read the piece in Ukrainian, but its resounding message, on the power of unity for liberation, was heard by all in the room.
Source: The Justice.org
