
Ukraine: Secrets of Resilience was an exhibition by True Blue & a Little Bit of Yellow, presented at Sydney Town Hall to mark one year since the start of the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine.


I wanted to find a way to help people in Australia understand what war is — not in abstract terms, but through human experience. That idea became Secrets of Resilience. I went through a year of devastating news and personal testimonies, selecting stories that resonated most deeply and spoke about survival, loss, strength, and endurance.
From these stories, I created a series of posters combining documentary photographs, written accounts, and artworks — my own and those of fellow artists — alongside real objects carrying personal and symbolic meaning. Each element was chosen carefully, so the exhibition could be read, felt, and experienced rather than simply viewed.
Working through so much human pain was emotionally demanding. Revisiting these stories left a lasting mark, but I believe the process was necessary. The exhibition allowed many visitors to imagine themselves in a place of conflict and offered a glimpse into how people continue to live, endure, and remain human under unimaginable circumstances.
It was not an easy exhibition — but it was an important one.















In 2018, I was invited to curate and coordinate a cultural performance for a diplomatic function at the National Gallery of Australia, at the request of the Embassy of Ukraine and on the initiative of Christine Syvenkyj-Bailey. The performance was created primarily from Christine Syvenkyj-Bailey’s private collection, with additional contributions from the collections of Sonia Mycak and Roxolana Mishalow. I am deeply grateful to them for their generosity and trust. This project was far more than event coordination — it was about giving history a voice. Every costume, ornament, and movement carried memory, identity, and meaning. My role was to carefully weave these elements into a coherent narrative that honoured tradition while allowing it to live and breathe in the present moment. I oversaw the entire creative and organisational process: selecting traditional Ukrainian costume elements, sourcing authentic garments and objects from private collectors, and recreating historical headpieces and jewellery where originals could not be used. I wrote the presentation script to guide the audience through the story, and designed all visual and printed materials — from slides and banners to invitations, gifts, and calendars — ensuring a unified visual language throughout the event. Behind the scenes, the work was equally intricate. I coordinated models and assistants, managed the careful transport of costumes and artefacts from Sydney to Canberra and back, and balanced countless logistical details so that, on the day, everything felt effortless and dignified. What emerged was not simply a performance, but a living expression of cultural memory.

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.