In 2020, I was approached by a client not so typical for me—an art foundation, Izolyatsia. In 2020, they were going to launch art residencies in Soledar, a small town in the East of Ukraine, at that moment, very close to the frontline. They hired me to help them with the comms.
Izolyatsia has a complicated story. You can read more of it here. In 2014, after the Russian annexation of Crimea and occupation of the Donetsk and Luhansk regions, Izolyatsia had to flee their home in the city of Donetsk. Russian occupation turned Izolyatsia's building into infamous illegal prison, well-known and well-feared by those familiar with the topic. Since 2014, instead of art, there have been torture and murders in that building. Izolyatsia was forced to move to Kyiv.
This project was meant to be a comms material for exhibitions, art media, etc. Instead, we decided to make it a symbolic piece. We invited a Ukrainian documentary director, Zoya Laktionova, to shoot a video with my script. Watching the final cut all together, we had a lump in the throat. The sense of being unable to come back home was excruciating.
On February 24, 2022, Russia started a full-scale war of aggression against Ukraine. A couple of days later, in March 2022, the whole world watched how Zoya's and many more of my friends' native Mariupol was destroyed. Thousands of people were killed by Russia.
Izolyatsia, once again in their history, had to flee Soledar—the place of active warfare now. Many more towns, villages and cities have become lost homes for Ukrainian people.
Most of all, Ukrainians want this war to end and to see home again. For hundreds of thousands, including Izolyatsia and Zoya, this is only possible if those territories are de-occupied from the aggressor-state.
