18 June 2025
Portable Motherland
I had to leave my home in just a few days, and it’s not safe to go back.
Since then, I’ve lived in five countries, six cities, and countless shabby apartments—always trying to settle, always searching for something that feels a little more like home.
Over the past three years, I’ve constantly questioned my identity and self-worth.
Am I a traitor or a descendant? Russian, Siberian, Israeli—or none of these?
This project is my way of returning to the place that shaped me—to sift through it, to carry something with me into my nomadic life, wherever I go next.
I recreated landscapes from my childhood, using photos of real places and channeling my pain into the process.
Whisper Well
While thinking about what to create for Groen Kwartier, I noticed the nearby church was closed. It made me reflect on what such places offer: comfort, presence, a space to let go of worries through ritual or faith. I wondered what people might be missing without that shared, symbolic environment. This led me to imagine something accessible to everyone. A space where that whisper could be received. A moment of quiet reassurance: You are heard.
The Whisper Well is a sculptural installation carved from natural stone, shaped like a spiraling shell that curls inward. It invites visitors to lean in and whisper their worries into the opening. In response (there’s a build-in sound sensor), a gentle stream of water begins to flow through the spiral—symbolically washing the worry away.
This gesture offers a quiet ritual: to whisper something private, and to feel it met with a response. A small, purifying experience.
Meet Yourself Booth
My practice began with a personal ritual I created around an old analogue photobooth—one I used in an unintended way. I would travel across the city just to sit inside it and spend a quiet moment with myself. The harder life felt, the more meaningful this ritual became. I’d sit there, looking into the camera’s tinted window, and ask myself, “Where am I in life right now?” After a brief inner dialogue, I’d drop in the coins and take a photo—still focused on myself, not posing. It became a way to mark a moment and place in my life.
Oddly, the photos looked almost the same each time. Maybe I seemed more tense, but mostly unchanged. That felt disappointing—except for one time when I was heartbroken and quietly sang a folk love song during the shots. I realized then that it wasn’t about being photographed. It was about being alone, facing myself, and allowing an honest conversation to happen. It was about presence and acceptance.
Later, during immigration and difficult times, I lost access to the booth. I tried to recreate the ritual in a bathroom mirror, but it felt off—uncanny, even. I couldn’t find that same feeling of safety. So I decided to make something of my own. I began developing a booth that could hold that kind of space for others. After researching interactive art and therapeutic practices, I built a working prototype, shown in an exhibition at Arttelex in Antwerp in January 2025.
Meet Yourself Booth is an installation where a person steps inside, sits down in front of a mirror, and locks their phone away in a box to begin the experience. A guided audio plays for about three minutes, gently taking them through a reflective journey. During this time, they’re invited to look at themselves, connect with their reflection, and even talk to it if they feel like it.
I wanted each participant to have three uninterrupted minutes without their phone—to simply give attention to themselves and their reflection. To receive the message: You are seen.
Jan
2025
Meet Yourself Booth
My practice began with a personal ritual I created around an old analogue photobooth—one I used in an unintended way. I would travel across the city just to sit inside it and spend a quiet moment with myself. The harder life felt, the more meaningful this ritual became. I’d sit there, looking into the camera’s tinted window, and ask myself, “Where am I in life right now?” After a brief inner dialogue, I’d drop in the coins and take a photo—still focused on myself, not posing. It became a way to mark a moment and place in my life.
Oddly, the photos looked almost the same each time. Maybe I seemed more tense, but mostly unchanged. That felt disappointing—except for one time when I was heartbroken and quietly sang a folk love song during the shots. I realized then that it wasn’t about being photographed. It was about being alone, facing myself, and allowing an honest conversation to happen. It was about presence and acceptance.
Later, during immigration and difficult times, I lost access to the booth. I tried to recreate the ritual in a bathroom mirror, but it felt off—uncanny, even. I couldn’t find that same feeling of safety. So I decided to make something of my own. I began developing a booth that could hold that kind of space for others. After researching interactive art and therapeutic practices, I built a working prototype, shown in an exhibition at Arttelex in Antwerp in January 2025.
Meet Yourself Booth is an installation where a person steps inside, sits down in front of a mirror, and locks their phone away in a box to begin the experience. A guided audio plays for about three minutes, gently taking them through a reflective journey. During this time, they’re invited to look at themselves, connect with their reflection, and even talk to it if they feel like it.
I wanted each participant to have three uninterrupted minutes without their phone—to simply give attention to themselves and their reflection. To receive the message: You are seen.