Bridging Tradition and Innovation

Rooted in classical techniques, Olga employs modern explorations via soft materials and prints to evoke childhood memories. Her use of transparent fabrics and sewing techniques infuses warmth and nostalgia into her pieces, inviting audiences to connect with their own histories through art.

1. Your artistic practice has evolved from painting to sculpture, particularly with soft, fabric-like forms. Can you share what prompted this shift and how it influences your overall creative expression?

To be honest, the shift from painting to sculpture and mixing media wasn't something I planned in advance. It really came down to what the specific project or idea required at the time. I had this concept of mixing colors while maintaining distinct layers, and that's how I arrived at these transparent, fabric-like soft forms. They weren’t about developing a particular style; they simply served the purpose of answering the questions I had and fulfilled the creative needs of that idea. When I say it’s not my "style," I mean it's not something I plan to do forever. It's more about responding to the demands of each idea rather than committing to one medium or approach for the long term. For this project, the soft forms were the perfect solution, but that could change in the future. As I explore these new materials and forms, it gives me a fresh set of tools and perspectives. It's like unlocking new doors or stepping outside of a box that I've been confined to. This shift has expanded my horizons, allowing me to express ideas in new, diverse ways visually.

2. How do you select the fabrics and colors you work with, and what do they symbolize in your pieces?

When selecting fabrics and colors, I always start with the idea first. I choose materials that feel organic to the concept I'm working with. For example, I’ve used transparent fabrics because they allow for an interesting blend of colors, creating layers that align with my vision. The fabric I selected was traditionally used for silk painting, so it tied directly into the art-making process itself. The fabric represents that process as well—it’s more than just a medium; it's part of the journey. Interestingly, although a canvas, typically used as a surface for painting, becomes an art object itself through the act of “sculpting” it into folds, allowing me to harness the inherent qualities of the canvas fabric. For one of my recent projects, I used muslin, which is commonly found in the fashion industry. My inspiration came from fashion design, so it felt like the perfect, natural fit. My work is very process-driven and intuitive, I’ve noticed that pinning fabric during fashion design has this beautiful, almost organic quality. I wanted to reflect that in my own process, keeping everything as cohesive as possible. What I enjoy about working with fabric is its fluidity. It’s a free-flowing material, and the act of pinning it and sewing allows me to shape it while still letting its natural qualities shine through. There’s a delicate balance between manipulation and letting the fabric behave as it naturally would. As for the colors, they often depend on the properties of the fabric I’m using. With the transparent materials, I choose more saturated colors so that when the fabric layers or overlaps, it creates more complex shades in different areas. I like to think of it as mixing colors in the air rather than on a palette—the viewer’s eye blends them in real time, adding another dimension to the experience.

3. Your work is deeply rooted in personal history, especially memories of your mother’s sewing. How do you weave these narratives into your art, and how do they resonate with your audience?

I didn’t initially have much admiration for fashion or the process of sewing, probably because I grew up seeing my mother work tirelessly at her sewing machine. It was such a normal part of life that I never viewed it as special or artistic—just something that was always there. But when I started working with a sewing machine myself, I realized how much beauty there is in the process. It brought back memories of watching my mother sew late at night, and it gave me a deep sense of comfort and safety, almost like coming home. Sewing became a way for me to reconnect with those warm memories and a part of my personal history. As an immigrant, this sense of "homecoming" through the act of sewing felt even more significant. It also gave me a new respect for the work my mother did all her life—work that was traditionally seen as "female" and undervalued, especially in the culture I come from. Sewing at home was often viewed as something practical, not something that could be considered part of the fine arts. In fact, in my academic environment, the focus was on more traditionally male-dominated forms of expression, and sewing wasn’t seen as a serious art form. However, I’ve found a way to honor and elevate that "female" aspect of sewing in my work. It’s not just a technical process for me—it’s deeply meditative and personal. Especially in my recent projects, where I’ve used patchwork techniques, sewing feels like a way to create something that’s warm and full of life, in contrast to cold or rigid materials like stone. There’s also a poetic tension in the act of sewing itself. The sharp needle piercing the soft, delicate fabric feels almost like a metaphor for pain or survival. That delicate balance between the softness of the fabric and the harshness of the needle is something that deeply resonates with me, and I try to capture that in my art.

4. Fleeing Belarus due to political circumstances must have been a profound experience. How has this journey influenced your work and the themes you explore in your art?

Fleeing Belarus was indeed a profound experience, but it’s something I’ve never fully articulated in terms of how it impacted my art. When people ask if my work is political or if it addresses themes of freedom and protest, I find it’s more about escape for me. For me, art has become a way to process trauma. When faced with overwhelming political circumstances, it often feels like anything you create is futile, so you look for a way out. This doesn’t mean my art is explicitly political; rather, it serves as a refuge from the dictatorship and the emotional turmoil that comes with being a refugee. Back in Belarus, I did engage in projects that opposed the government, but those efforts often led to trouble. After relocating to the U.S., my art continued to function as a means of escape. It's a form of healing, a personal sanctuary that allows me to navigate my experiences without directly confronting the political landscape. As an artist, I also aim for viewers to escape their own stressful and sometimes traumatic realities while interacting with my pieces. In this way, they participate in my escape.

5. As you explore transparency and diaphaneity, what themes or ideas are you currently interested in investigating in your upcoming projects?

As I explore themes of transparency and diaphaneity, I find myself deeply engaged in certain ideas for my upcoming projects. While it’s challenging to pinpoint exactly where I’m heading, I’m excited to approach my existing concepts from new angles. Currently, I'm in a stage of exploration, where the direction of my work is still unfolding. For instance, I’m drawn to the relationship between land and bones, which reflects both physical and metaphorical layers in our existence. I often begin with the materials—like new fabrics—and allow the ideas to develop organically from there. This process can feel uncertain, as I navigate what these new elements might lead to. In terms of technical exploration, I’m particularly interested in working on a larger scale. I aim to combine different objects to serve a cohesive idea, with a focus on how they can interact within a shared space. Rather than simply creating individual pieces, I aspire to produce an immersive experience that engages viewers in a meaningful way. However, I’m still determining how to achieve this goal, and I embrace the uncertainty that comes with this exploration.

7. Get inspired!

INSTAGRAM: @volha_r_art