Correspondence

Rymma Mylenkova: when I go through the mail daily, I find only depersonalized envelopes without stamps - from immigration institutions, insurance companies, real estate agencies, political parties that encourage me to vote in elections... The mail immediately goes into the recycling bin because I can't buy a house, I don't have the right to vote, and in general, this is not my street or home...

I try to maintain a balance between my physical location and the feeling of the map of Ukraine on my own body when it hurts in Sumy, then in Odesa, then in Olenivka, then in Bakhmut, or everywhere at once. I write letters about what happened during the day, collaged from antique magazines, old stamps, other people's envelopes, and my tickets. Collage is the only way of perceiving information when the world has fallen into pieces. These pieces can be glued together and get a whole picture again.

My letters have no addressees and remain in draft and unsent status...

I stubbornly write one letter every day. This ritual gives me hope that one day among the spam, I will find a letter with my name and address handwritten on it.

Tamara Yanovych: my home is my fortress. From February 24, 2022, this expression acquired a more significant meaning for each of us. Now my fortress is my country, city, yard, and home. All these things were combined into one fundamental concept - my home. And at home, as you know, walls also help...

Most of the works presented in this exhibition were created after the beginning of the full-scale invasion, namely, in the darkest period, literally, during the blackouts. Then, sitting in a dark apartment without a heating and water supply, I did not feel desolation or powerlessness at all. On the contrary, that time became more resourceful and productive for me than ever. Stitch by stitch, leaf by leaf, I went to materialize my dreams and ideas. This exhibition was the reward for my persistence and faith in myself.