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⚪️ Découvrez 𝘌𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴, une installation par Daria Koltsova (@koltsovadarya) dans le cadre de la Biennale de Venise ⚪️

Heimat im Archiv der Erinnerung ✨🎞️ Ein Kiosk im Ausstellungsraum wird zum Gefäß für Erinnerungen und zum Akt des Widerstands. In einem Interview gewährt uns @koltsovadarya einen tieferen Einblick in ihre künstlerische Arbeit der Ausstellung #TheMaterialShow im MQ Freiraum und die Geschichten, die sie in ihrem Werk bewahrt.

🔴#MuseumsQuartier #MQFreiraum

Home in the archive of memory ✨🎞️ A kiosk in the exhibition space becomes a vessel for memories and an act of resistance. In an interview, @koltsovadarya offers deeper insight into her artistic work in the exhibition #TheMaterialShow at the MQ Freiraum and the stories she preserves within it.

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

Дар’я Кольцова (@koltsovadarya) українська художниця, яка живе та працює в Парижі, реалізувала мистецький проєкт «Відлуння» — інтервенцію в публічний простір навколо головного світового майданчика презентації сучасного мистецтва — 61-ї Венеційської бієнале.

Проєкт покликаний підтримати увагу до війни в Україні через використання іконічної візуальної мови Венеції — звичаю місцевих жителів сушити одяг на мотузках зовні будинків, над каналами та вулицями. На мотузках житлових будинків поблизу входу до Арсенале художниця розмістила справжню військову форму.

Більше на marieclaire.ua

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES

Deliberately, the work contains no explanatory text or author attribution. This absence of framing is essential to the project. Encountering military uniforms suspended in public space, viewers remain uncertain whether they are witnessing an artwork or traces of soldiers inhabiting the city. I was interested in creating a subtle instability within everyday space.

I have long worked with what remains after catastrophe: fragments, interrupted rituals, traces carried by objects and materials after history has passed through them. Violence rarely appears only through direct images. More often, it enters everyday life quietly, through seemingly insignificant details.
Arriving in Lviv today, the war can at first feel distant. Ordinary life continues, yet reality returns through fragments: people without limbs, military songs on the radio, an old man crying for his dead son, military uniforms hanging on balconies to dry. The war exists even when it remains quiet.
ECHOES continues this reflection through unsignaled public interventions surrounding the Arsenale during the Venice Biennale.

In Venice, laundry lines became a language through which invisible narratives of daily life emerge.
The intervention began on the Venetian street Ramo de la Tana, named after Tana — the Azov region (Ukraine) historically connected to the transport of hemp used for Venetian naval rope production. Rope-making in Venice was one of the first forms of labour permitted to women outside the home, bringing an important gender historical layer.

The project consists of real military uniforms installed on Venetian laundry lines around the Arsenale. Donated by Ukrainian artists currently serving in the war, women soldiers, and members of the Azov Brigade, the uniforms allow different historical and personal narratives to converge within the work. Many were worn in combat and still carry names, traces of use, injury, and the imprint of the bodies that inhabited them.

Today, when war is transformed into image and spectacle, personal stories remain one of the few ways to resist detachment and preserve human presence.

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

ECHOES / Відлуння 🇺🇦
During the Venice Biennale, Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya created a series of silent interventions across Venice — to remind the world: the war is real, even when it feels invisible here.

In Venice, laundry lines and ropes stretch between buildings, quietly telling stories about the people inside. In this project, objects become witnesses.

One striking detail: Venice even has a street called “Tana”, named after the Azov region — once connected to the city through materials used for ship ropes. Ukraine’s echoes have been here for centuries.

For Echoes, Daria uses real military uniforms — worn in combat, carrying names, stains, and traces of injuries. Some were provided by artists currently serving in the war, with support from @marynatalutto, Arm Women Now, and @use_your_name (who helped collect an Azov uniform).

The project is intentionally unsigned — no text, no author — so people stop and wonder:
Is this art… or did soldiers arrive?

Because even when war is quiet — its echoes are everywhere.
_

This project was made possible with the support of @vechory.venice

Photo: @anastasia.photo.venice

#biennale #ukrainebiennale #ukraine #venicebiennale #artvenice

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

У межах Венеційської бієнале українська художниця Дар’я Кольцова представила серію візуальних інтервенцій. На семи локаціях навколо Венеційського арсеналу замість звичної білизни на венеційських мотузках сохла справжня українська військова форма.

Художниця дала ексклюзивне інтерв’ю для «Море Людей».

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“The war is not only for the right to live on the land, but also to be buried in it.”

Ukrainian artist @koltsovadarya’s practice emerges from listening to the histories that imperial, colonial regimes have tried to erase—narratives, memories, and stories that carry across generations.
Her work inhabits “the tension between local experience and global frameworks, between private memory and official history”. It is within this space that her practice unfolds, shaped by the responsibility to use her voice to speak the underrepresented stories.

She joined @anna.borrie to talk about memory, land as a witness, and why small, intimate gestures can become powerful acts of resistance and connection for Documenting Conflict.

Read more via the link in our bio and subscribe to our newsletter for more stories that bridge the gap between humans and nature for personal and planetary well-being.

Design by @bectic

#LandAndMemory #ArtAndPolitics #Ukraine #DecolonialNarratives

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

“Hello,
My name is Daria. Right now your voice is coming from a telephone located in a small white room, which people occasionally enter to hear you. Your conversation will not be interrupted; people can only listen to you. You may be as open as you need. No one will be able to judge what you say. Your call will remain completely anonymous and will be heard only in real time in this room”

THE ARCHIVE OF THE CONTINGENT LISTENER

2015

PinchukArtCentre, Kyiv @pinchukartcentre
for the exhibition of the PinchukArtPrize finalists.

In 2015, many people in my country volunteered for the front line. At the same time, civilians deprived of the possibility of dialogue with this new community, feared their return and the possible militarization of country. I realized I was becoming oblivious to the reality around me and wanted to understand the society I was living in.

I created an interactive installation with open phone lines, inviting soldiers and their families to call anonymously and share their experiences. The work placed the viewer in the position of a listener—present, but unable to respond—turning listening into an ethical act. Without mediation by media or politics, each voice appeared raw and immediate.
Developed in collaboration with military psychologists, the act of speaking became the beginning of a rehabilitative process. The anonymous call functioned as both a private confession and a public gesture.

During the exhibition, I received 341 calls, all of which were deleted afterward to protect the participants. Alongside this, I created an archive of keywords and recurring themes, revealing the emotional condition of a society shaped by war and uncertainty. The project combines performative, interactive, graphic, and research elements, insisting on the value of direct, unfiltered voice.

https://pinchukartcentre.org/en/persons-pac/artist-en/daria-koltsova

📸 @sergeillin

Then shadows came enter and took it over…

TOYS installation at @noca_oradea

📸 @dodi.vekony

This spring is a whirlwind — cities, events, incredible people, never ending change of planes/trains/cars…

Real life has been so intense that I went quiet here, working on something really special.

But ! last week in Odesa I got an unexpected call I couldn’t wait to share:
I became one of the three laureates of the Prix Fonds de dotation Porosus × Thanks for Nothing @thanksfor.nothing that I deeply respect.

You don’t apply for it, you have to be nominated, so it really came out of the blue.

There are many incredible things about this program, but honestly — the jury… attention of these people feels kind of priceless.

Grateful. And excited to start

On the picture I’m dancing on San Marco the next day.
Tipsy and deadly exhausted but still focused, happy, inspired and surrounded by friends — the best cocktail of April 2026.

spotted by @epicurien_eclectique

This spring is a whirlwind — cities, events, incredible people, never ending change of planes/trains/cars…

Real life has been so intense that I went quiet here, working on something really special.

But ! last week in Odesa I got an unexpected call I couldn’t wait to share:
I became one of the three laureates of the Prix Fonds de dotation Porosus × Thanks for Nothing @thanksfor.nothing that I deeply respect.

You don’t apply for it, you have to be nominated, so it really came out of the blue.

There are many incredible things about this program, but honestly — the jury… attention of these people feels kind of priceless.

Grateful. And excited to start

On the picture I’m dancing on San Marco the next day.
Tipsy and deadly exhausted but still focused, happy, inspired and surrounded by friends — the best cocktail of April 2026.

spotted by @epicurien_eclectique

This spring is a whirlwind — cities, events, incredible people, never ending change of planes/trains/cars…

Real life has been so intense that I went quiet here, working on something really special.

But ! last week in Odesa I got an unexpected call I couldn’t wait to share:
I became one of the three laureates of the Prix Fonds de dotation Porosus × Thanks for Nothing @thanksfor.nothing that I deeply respect.

You don’t apply for it, you have to be nominated, so it really came out of the blue.

There are many incredible things about this program, but honestly — the jury… attention of these people feels kind of priceless.

Grateful. And excited to start

On the picture I’m dancing on San Marco the next day.
Tipsy and deadly exhausted but still focused, happy, inspired and surrounded by friends — the best cocktail of April 2026.

spotted by @epicurien_eclectique

This spring is a whirlwind — cities, events, incredible people, never ending change of planes/trains/cars…

Real life has been so intense that I went quiet here, working on something really special.

But ! last week in Odesa I got an unexpected call I couldn’t wait to share:
I became one of the three laureates of the Prix Fonds de dotation Porosus × Thanks for Nothing @thanksfor.nothing that I deeply respect.

You don’t apply for it, you have to be nominated, so it really came out of the blue.

There are many incredible things about this program, but honestly — the jury… attention of these people feels kind of priceless.

Grateful. And excited to start

On the picture I’m dancing on San Marco the next day.
Tipsy and deadly exhausted but still focused, happy, inspired and surrounded by friends — the best cocktail of April 2026.

spotted by @epicurien_eclectique

This spring is a whirlwind — cities, events, incredible people, never ending change of planes/trains/cars…

Real life has been so intense that I went quiet here, working on something really special.

But ! last week in Odesa I got an unexpected call I couldn’t wait to share:
I became one of the three laureates of the Prix Fonds de dotation Porosus × Thanks for Nothing @thanksfor.nothing that I deeply respect.

You don’t apply for it, you have to be nominated, so it really came out of the blue.

There are many incredible things about this program, but honestly — the jury… attention of these people feels kind of priceless.

Grateful. And excited to start

On the picture I’m dancing on San Marco the next day.
Tipsy and deadly exhausted but still focused, happy, inspired and surrounded by friends — the best cocktail of April 2026.

spotted by @epicurien_eclectique

Postcards from Home

Museum Quarter Wien

📷 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #daryakoltsova #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #memoryart

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk

I was over the moon when I received the invitation to take part in this show “The Material Show” curated by the Golden Lion winner @andreasfogarasi and the chief curator of Museumquartier Vienna @astridpeterle — talented collègues that I sure me so much!

There were so many logistic challenges that the team has boldly overcome to make it real. Andreas Kurz is the magician!

Greatful to the Mönchehaus Museum Goslar thatcommissioned Postcards from Home installation for my solo show at the museum in 2024 curated by @bettinaruhrberg and @temnikovakaselagallery that commissioned The Kiosk installation for my solo show at the gallery last year, besides taking care of the crazy logistics.

The Material Show takes place at @mqwien until 31.05.26 having brought together 12 artists to “approach materials that shape and structure our built environment — on both a conceptual and forma level - essential components that we often take for granted and only draw our attention when they malfunction, become defective or ruined”. Built on the long-standing research conducted over many years by the participating artist and co-curator Andreas Fogarasi.

The Material Show, 2026 ©MuseumQuartier Wien
📸 @simonveres_aeph

#dariakoltsova #mq #stainedglass #stainedglassinstallation #thekiosk