Anna Kostritskaya

In conversation with ARC’s Communications and Editorial Assistant, Valentine Sargent, Anna reflects on her experience relocating to London from Kyiv for an art residency, how her art has transformed since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, and what the future holds for her artistic endeavors.

I grew up in a family of artists so the creative atmosphere is my native environment, but truly I fell in love with art while studying art criticism at an institute. The first time I held a brush I was 25 and I realized that I couldn’t live without painting. I felt as if time had stopped and there was nothing but me and the canvas. It started as a hobby; I wasn’t sure that it was going to be my profession. Labeling myself as an artist took time. The first 5 years of being an artist helped me understand the experience of ups and downs, that this is a conscious choice of an unstable financial life. I realized that I love creating so much that I am ready for any difficulties. The first three years I painted in order to find my own style, studying color, line and texture, only after that I realized that I was ready to be an artist.

2. What artworks have you created that you are most proud of and why?

There is no particular artwork, I am proud of all of them, each of them reflects a certain stage I have lived through, positive or negative, I appreciate everything.

3. What are you currently working on? And what are you looking forward to?

I’m studying photography now. I have some ideas for a new series, but I’m not ready to share them yet. I’m really looking forward to the charity project “Art on a Postcard,” which is aimed at raising funds to help people who have been diagnosed with hepatitis C. And I just signed a contract with a London gallery so I’m excited about our future work together.

At the moment, we have very warm and friendly relations with the residents, but they all arrived half a year ago. Before that, I spent a whole year alone despite the incredible support from Acme and the fact that they gave me everything I needed. Building an entire life ecosystem around yourself from scratch when you are still in deep depression due to the war and some personal problems is not easy. Every day feels like a challenge. Therefore, I appreciate the relationships with my artistic neighbors that we all have here today.

5. What does it mean to be a Ukrainian artist today? How does your identity inform your art? 

The stress of the war, relocation, and some things that happened in my life in 2023 was so huge that I’m still putting a big effort into rebuilding my identity and finding resilience.

Today, my art is more about escaping reality or creating a new reality, rather than reflecting on today’s events. Before the war, everything was different. If I went through traumatic moments, my art reflected it, always. Now, if you look at my canvases, they are the complete opposite of what is happening in my heart, soul, and my home in Kyiv.

When I found myself here in a foreign country, in a completely different reality, my emotional and psychological resilience simply collapsed. I couldn’t even understand for the first half of the year whether I was still an artist or not. I had nothing emotionally to hold on to, except for myself and my art.

Now my art is concentrating more on the feelings and experiences of a person who, because of war, lost her bearings, mental foundation, and environment which was built for 30 years and trying to rebuild a new one.

Freedom of artistic expression for me lies in the fact that even in the context of war, as an artist and part of Ukrainian society, I am not obliged to paint canvases only about the war. We have a free country and fortunately, we do not live like artists during the times of socialist realism. The visuals of my canvases do not directly speak about the war; they contain more of the artist’s experience of going through the war. And there is one more issue that I am just preparing to talk about in the next series–it will reveal more about my real circumstances.

I am still open to talk freely about the war, plus I don’t think that artistic work should shout about it too straight. All artists are different. Everyone finds their way of responding to current events. I choose my way and there are reasons for that.

There are no rules for expressing freedom; we set them for ourselves. My freedom continues where I feel safe. In 2021, I couldn’t imagine what kind of circumstances I would face in the context of war. Every action has its consequences and today, to be honest, I’m living through circumstances that I’m not ready to talk about freely. This is my way of protecting my safety and security.

Any exhibition, or for example my participation with Artists at Risk Connection at Res Artis’ Mind the Gap conference, first raises the war in Ukraine then my artistic path and my canvases. Because next to my name there is always the name of my country.

Censorship stands in the way of true art. I think contemporary art is mired in trends. My favorite period in the history of art is from the 20s-60s when artists were constantly experimenting and breaking patterns. I feel that I’m not free enough to express myself. It takes time to unpack the potential and it is something that comes with experience.

8. Do you consider a Ukrainian audience when creating your artwork? What is your approach to creating art – for the viewer, for yourself, or for both?

I believe that you need to create art for yourself, your values and what bothers you, then you find your true viewer because the work is based on truth. This is the internal dialogue of the artist that either finds an external response or not. That’s why I don’t take into account a specific audience when I create, it forms itself as a response to my art.

One way or another, the women in my works always echo my inner state. One might say they are my avatars in different life circumstances. It depends on the picture. In some of them, nudity symbolizes insecurity and vulnerability. In others, it symbolizes freedom and the lack of constraint from external patterns.

The color lines symbolize the emotional attachments of the ecosystem around a person that we build throughout our life. For me, they represent a huge amount of information that one way or another is layered on us. We are a product of the ecosystem that raised us, from our parents who shape our habits and views to our country and global politics. Each of us is a small part of a post-industrial society where each person is a cog in the system. These lines are about the roots that we plant around ourselves to make life clearer and safer.

I felt the lack of solid ground under my feet when I found myself in another country. My entire ecosystem and understanding of myself, all my patterns, collapsed. As I said earlier, I couldn’t even understand for the first half of the year whether I was still an artist or not. It was important for me to find a foundation on which to stand on, and to go through a period of self-identification to have something to build on.

As for the dark portraits from the previous series, I have stopped working on them for now because I live in the studio where I work. The smell of paint from the texture work is very strong. To live in such a room is highly toxic for my health. Even today I suffer from migraines when I paint fresh canvases. For this reason, I don’t paint as often as I would if I had a separate room to work. I’m seriously thinking about moving into photography.

“My art reacts to the stages of my internal growth. If you have been watching me for a long time, this can be seen in the paintings and concepts that are embedded in them. They grow with me.”

10. How has your art transformed throughout the years? Can you pinpoint several important moments in your life that have evolved your art into what it is today?

My art reacts to the stages of my internal growth. If you have been watching me for a long time, this can be seen in the paintings and concepts that are embedded in them. They grow with me.

I have an art history education, but I did not graduate as a painter. I began to get acquainted with painting through the study of line and color. I think this was the first important stage of entry when I realized that I could not live without it.

The second stage formed in me a very important revelation: “Never follow trends and don’t listen to what others say, create only what resonates with you, and don’t betray yourself.” The moment I realized this, I moved from acrylic abstractions to impasto portraits, which gave me good career growth.

The third stage, when I began to move away from texture, happened a few months before the war. I created a small series of works that were saturated with static silence and anxiety that reigned in the air those months. I stopped working on it as soon as the war began. For me, that period only confirmed that I can feel the changes in the environment as an artist. It was very important to see that I was still honest in my paintings.

Today’s stage is more about escapism. There is a large part of this story that would reveal the whole picture of my last two years, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I plan to create a series of works where I can talk openly about my circumstances of the last few years. Without this, even this interview looks unfinished; it is missing one important puzzle. But I think this story will describe my next stage and I hope that I can call it brave, strong, and fearless.