Being part of the Heartlands multimedia performance at Cell Block Theatre, Sydney, was a true privilege and an honour. It was a project driven by an incredibly motivated and generous team — a real dream team — and the result was powerful. A person, who came up with the idea of this unique event never held in Sydney before, creative director and producer of Heartlands – Linda Gough.
For this performance, I created the artwork of a golden wheat field rising from black soil. Ukraine is often called the breadbasket of Europe, and its fertile land has long nourished not only grain, but literature, music, and cultural memory. This image became the visual heart of the event, reflecting both abundance and endurance.
Heartlands offered audiences a deep experience of Ukrainian culture through poetry, music, storytelling, food, and shared presence. To my knowledge, it was the most substantial Ukrainian literary performance ever staged in the Southern Hemisphere, and I am proud to have supported it.
My role extended across the full visual identity of the event. I created the key artwork used throughout all materials, designed print collateral including posters, programmes, and food signage, developed digital assets for multiple platforms, and contributed to stage design. During the performance, my artwork formed the visual backdrop on the large screen behind the performers, shaping the atmosphere of the evening.
Heartlands remains one of the most meaningful projects I’ve been involved in — a genuine fusion of art, culture, and community, and a reminder of how creative collaboration can carry both beauty and purpose.
For me, as for many of my collectors, moving to Australia has been a blessed and life-changing experience. At the same time, it doesn’t erase the feeling of missing home. Memory travels with us — through seasons, colours, familiar landscapes, and small visual details that stay deeply rooted inside. Quite often, Ukrainian collectors commission artworks that reconnect them with home. These might be flowers remembered from a childhood garden, the softness of snow, the glow of golden autumn, or the unmistakable outlines of traditional Ukrainian architecture. These subjects carry emotional weight — they speak of belonging, memory, and personal history. I find great meaning in creating these works, because I share the same feelings. Painting nostalgic themes allows me to revisit places and atmospheres that shaped me, while offering others a visual connection to what they hold dear. The artwork becomes more than an image; it becomes a bridge between past and present, between where we come from and where we are now. Through these commissions, nostalgia turns into something tangible — a way to honour memory, identity, and the enduring connection to home, even when life unfolds far from it.
Knowing your tools deeply — how they behave, how they age, how they respond to light and heat — changes the way you work and the confidence with which you make decisions. During my time at Azur Studio in Kyiv, we took part in a number of art trips across Europe, visiting paint and medium manufacturers directly. These experiences were invaluable. Being able to ask questions about materials from the people who created them — the chemists, designers, and technicians behind the products — gave us insights no manual or catalogue ever could. Who could know the materials better than those who developed them? Along the way, we also participated in workshops with local designers who introduced us to the full potential of different gels and pastes, transparent and opaque paints, and specialised products for textile decoration and pseudo stained glass. We explored techniques for creating patina, working with gilding, and layering surfaces in ways that expanded both technical knowledge and creative possibility. I often find myself missing those times — being surrounded by like-minded professionals, travelling, learning, experimenting, and talking endlessly about what we loved most: paint, surface, and decoration. Those journeys shaped not only my technical approach, but also my respect for materials as active partners in the creative process.
