«Embroi(die)ry»

installation, collage, embroidery

Exhibition

“After Love,” Golosova, 20, Tolyatti

Embroi(die)ry is a project that has been ongoing since 2021. Reinterpreting personal history and attachment to objects, the artist takes as her basis items that were once sacred—cutting photographs of deceased people, adding to or destroying objects used by several generations of the family.

“I ask my mother: how was love expressed in our family? How did the older women show it? My grandmother? My great-grandmother?”

“It wasn’t expressed at all,” my mother replies. “It didn’t manifest as love, but rather as survival. The meaning of love was—to survive.”
I embroider this phrase on a tablecloth that my great-grandmother hand-sewed and embroidered, which was used by three generations of my family.

The collages “Grew as Best I Could” are glued and embroidered onto the fabric of a household T-shirt. They are a reflection on childhood and adolescence.

On the left: Major Tom
On the right, top: Happy Childhood

Bottom: Adolescent

I Don’t Even Know Why I Need All This

papier-mâché

in collaboration with Gala Izmailova

Exhibition

“Where No One Dreams: from Sacred Geography to Non-Place,” MMOMA, Moscow, 2017

A transit point between points A and B. A state of waiting for the final place of arrival. Sealed-off feelings, memories, plans — all wrapped in bubble wrap, dampened cardboard boxes, rustling newspaper shells — an attempt to preserve everything in its original form. Not even an object that may never be unpacked in a new place, but the memory of the object and the feeling attached to it, the moments worth keeping untouched, carried safely across.

Alyona: For me, the most important thing when moving to another city turned out to be my old film camera, a gift from my father. To be honest, I hardly use it, but I took pictures with it the last time my father and I went hiking, and it was important for me to have it with me. During the move I wrapped it in everything I could, to keep it safe. And although it already has its own hard case, my anxiety was stronger than my trust in Soviet manufacturers.

Gala: When I moved to Moscow, I didn’t yet know that I would go through four relocations in three months. There were a few more things each time, and I was very anxious. Again and again I had to pack and unpack my belongings, sometimes without even having had the chance to use them. Perhaps only the monotonous process of wrapping one thing after another helped me to find balance.

Safe Word

Object, badges, signs

Exhibition
Youth. Color, Department of Contemporary Art, Tolyatti Art Museum

In certain areas of life, people agree in advance on a signal to stop any interaction. This is necessary to prevent physical or psychological harm. Often, that signal is a safe word. The word “red” is the most widely used safe word in the world.
Chosen by mutual agreement, a safe word creates a sense of trust and security, the possibility of ending any exchange at any moment.

Today, however, words meant to serve this protective function have lost their strength. Outside of clear agreements, it is difficult to feel fully safe. Too often, people ignore words like “no” or “stop,” crossing into another’s space, imposing their opinions, speaking without care for the possibility of causing hurt.

The artist invites us to take a sign for ourselves—as a reminder to be mindful of our words; to give one to a partner, friend, or even a parent who oversteps boundaries; to carry it as a reminder that not everything must be endured, heard, or felt. There is always a safe word. And if no other word works, let it be red.

gallery