Sculptures & Installations

An inquiry into the architecture of control, inequality, and self-determination. These works intervene in public and conceptual spaces to dismantle embedded mythologies, exposing the fragile mechanics that govern both collective structures and individual identity.

Created as the central unifying axis for the project WHEN I KNEW I COULD FLY at MoMA Tbilisi (2026), this installation, co-authored with Georgian artist Irakli Svanidze, materializes the archetypal structure of childhood play.

Assembled from ordinary wooden chairs arranged into an imaginary aircraft, the object transforms memory into a physical vehicle. Placed on an elevated platform, the installation creates a tension between nostalgic fantasy and the rigid museum environment, with the project ultimately evolving into a charity auction as a direct social action.

Produced following the Rubbish to Moscow art action, the work examines the self-sacrificial nature of the modern simulacrum. The urban landscape—reconstructed through a pink bubble-gum aesthetic—drains directly into the Mausoleum via a central vortex. By dissolving consumer and state symbols into pagan architecture, the continuous water flow acts as a visual transition between universes, exposing ideological continuity as an automated, self-consuming ritual.

Executed as an unauthorized site-specific intervention inside the New Tretyakov Gallery, the work incorporates Tatlin’s nearby Monument to the Third International without physical alteration, incorporating the museum's landmark artifact through spatial alignment.

Suspended plastic strings, miniature bells, and a warped flexible mirror fracture the tower’s rigid geometry. The gesture contrasts the aggressive, hierarchical ambition of modernism—symbolized by the vertical tower—with fluid, horizontal, and ecological networks, asserting a shift from ideological dominance to decentralization.

Search for the source of life before language, myth, or logic. 

Forced deformation alters the structural logic of an object. Positioned at the point of collapse, external props record violence not as an action, but as a state of perpetual dependency.

Conceptualized as an homage to Marina Abramović’s The Artist Is Present for the site-specific exhibition Transitions in Tbilisi (2025), the installation destabilizes the hierarchy between creator and observer through an asymmetrical optical barrier.

A two-way mirror splits the interaction: one participant sees through the plane to observe the other, while the opposite side is confronted with their own reflection. By redistributing sight and vulnerability, the work strips the artist status of its institutional authority, asking whether agency belongs to the one who observes, the one who is observed, or the structure that controls the gaze.

Activated by the viewer’s physical proximity, a motion sensor triggers a targeted flow of water, gradually eroding the soap mass positioned on mechanical scales. As the material dissolves, the indicator shifts into negative values—framing artistic presence as an act of physical depletion.

The work operationalizes the concept of "priceism," where the valuation of an art object paradoxically increases as its physical substance vanishes. By linking the act of observation directly to structural erosion, the installation exposes emptiness as a tangible presence: the artwork exists not in the material object itself, but in the space left by its ongoing disappearance.

First presented at Gallery Na Nagornoy, the installation investigates the mechanics of state control, identity standardization, and bureaucratic reduction. A hybrid document—an expired passport where the official photograph is replaced by a QR code linking to an Instagram profile—is fixed onto a plane using mechanical metal clips.

Grounded in Karl Popper's critique of historical determinism, the work operates through a layer of post-irony: the expired state document surrenders its authority to a commercial algorithm. By swapping biometric verification for a digital self-presentation link, the installation exposes how institutional surveillance intersects with voluntary digital exposure, positioning human agency against the rigid apparatus of systemic control.

Realized as a solo project at the Zverev Center of Contemporary Art in Moscow (2021), this environment utilizes Ilya Kabakov’s methodology of the "total installation" to construct an immersive spatial ecosystem. The project synthesizes three key works: the fountain-sculpture Sacrifice, the visual dilogy This Is Not an Artist, and the optical installation Who Is the Artist?.

By orchestrating these distinct objects into a unified conceptual landscape, the installation deconstructs narratives of self-identity and artistic agency. The viewer is drawn into a closed circuit of institutional critique, where personal myth-making, state iconography, and optical vulnerability collide—forcing a continuous re-evaluation of who holds the authority to define the creator.

The work visualizes the structural myth of meritocracy and equal opportunity within contemporary social hierarchies. By materializing perspective as a physical condition, the sculpture reveals how social mobility is constrained by initial systemic positioning rather than individual effort.

Using recycled PLA plastic, two low-poly running figures share the same red acrylic starting line. However, through spatial elevation and scale, the track itself creates an unbridgeable distance. The red line marks a shared starting point that is inherently unequal, exposing declared "equality of opportunity" as an optical illusion embedded in social architecture.