Some artists speak through colours, others through form, but with Liudmila Davydenko, it’ something more - something beneath the surface, beneath even the layers of paint she so meticulously applies to her canvases. I first came across her work at an exhibition in Vienna, where her paintings, rich in texture and introspection, seemed to hold something unseen, something just out of reach. I knew then that I needed to understand her process, to see her world through her own eyes. Our visit to her studio in Lviv was planned after a long working session with my co-founders. It was a chance to engage directly with an artist whose work had left an impression on me. When we arrived, the setting was unexpectedly cinematic, her studio was nestled inside an old Soviet industrial building, its long, dimly lit corridors stretching endlessly like something out of Kubrick’ The Shining. There was a strange stillness in the air, a kind of suspended time, which somehow made the vibrancy of her paintings even more striking. Stepping into her workspace, I was immediately met with the scent of oil paint and the quiet discipline of an artist deeply immersed in her craft. Liudmila belongs to a generation of artists for whom patience and precision are second nature. Her early training as a sculptor is evident in the way she approaches her paintings - not as flat compositions, but as something three-dimensional, something that carries weight and substance. She doesn’ simply paint; she constructs. Every piece undergoes an intricate layering process, sometimes up to eight layers deep, giving the final work a sense of depth that feels almost geological, as if revealing different strata of meaning.

Some artists paint. Some sculpt. But Dasha Tsapenko grows her art. I remember the first time I encountered her work, it wasn’ just visually striking, it was revolutionary. It blurred the line between creation and cultivation. Dasha doesn’ see herself as the sole author of her works; instead, she collaborates with nature itself. Her textiles, garments, and installations are not merely crafted, they are nurtured. She prepares the foundation, then steps back to allow fungi, fibres, and microorganisms to shape the outcome. What emerges is something completely unique - art that breathes, evolves, and ultimately becomes part of the world in a way that traditional works never could. Her studio is unlike any I’ seen before. It’ not just a workshop, it’ part textile lab, part microbiology station, part experimental farm. A place where science and creativity intertwine seamlessly. She works with living organisms, primarily mycelium, the vast underground network of fungi that connects trees and plants beneath forests. But here, in her hands, mycelium doesn’ just connect nature, it creates. It grows into textiles, forming intricate patterns and textures, embedding itself into the very fabric of her art. It’ a process that is at once scientific and poetic. The unpredictability of working with living materials means that no two pieces are ever the same. She carefully prepares the ground, sometimes weaving or sewing textiles in a particular way to encourage the fungi’ growth in a desired form. But the final result? That’ left to nature.

Mykhailo Piskur (b. 1995, Ukraine), is an artist an artist who splits his time between Rivne and Kyiv. Piskur’s work is centred around themes human relationships, self-belief, and the diverse positioning of individuals in society. A recurring concept in his art is internal stigma, which he explores through simple, almost naive imagery. His style evokes a childlike perception, marked by sensitivity and a quest to uncover the good in every person.

In her studio practice the artist mixes painting, drawing, sculpting, collage and raw forms of etching such as monoprinting and woodcut. Always finding beauty in the unconventional and with a keen interest on recycling waste, don´t be surprised to find her digging in garbage at construction sites or "treasure hunting" at the beach for objects and materials that catch her eye and meet some of her ideas.She's most inspired by everyday life, people and nature, with maybe the sea in the spotlight; but her previous experiences in live, childhood memories, loss and a consequent "joie de vivre" that coexists with a certain melancholy also tend to appear on many of her work. Constantly playing with colour and texture in this hide and seek game, her pieces often reveal a sense of calmness, peace and light when finished, although many times there are emotional storms and chaos in the under layers. Her work comes many times as calming and enlightening to her collectors.