For Yehor Hrybovych, painting is not about perfection—it’s about the tension between control and surrender. Born in 1995 in Kryvyi Rih, Ukraine, Yehor grew up in a city defined by its raw industrial landscape, a setting that naturally seeped into his artistic language. From an early age, he was drawn to the immediacy of creation, where the stroke of a brush—or the spray of a can—could transform a surface into something unpredictable, something alive. His artistic journey began with street art, where walls became both his canvas and his playground. Graffiti taught him to embrace spontaneity, to work with the elements rather than against them. That energy never left his practice. Even as his work evolved from urban expressionism into painting, illustration, and graphic design, it carried with it the same sense of immediacy—of action meeting accident. A graduate of the Faculty of Arts at KNU, Yehor sees his work as an ongoing experiment, a space where order and chaos collide. His paintings are built on layers—thick, textured brushstrokes meet delicate, almost hesitant lines. Abstract forms dissolve into figurative elements, only to blur once more, leaving room for interpretation. His aesthetic is rough, unpolished, and intentionally careless—a visual language that invites the viewer to complete the narrative. One of his defining themes is imperfection as beauty. His works carry a rawness that resists easy categorization. Every drip, every unintended stroke, every contrast between softness and aggression serves a purpose. He is interested in the fragility of balance—the moments where instinct overrides precision. Through exhibitions in Ukraine and beyond, Yehor’s art continues to challenge how we see both chaos and control. His paintings are not just visual statements; they are conversations in motion, shifting and reshaping with each viewing.

That night, I couldn’ sleep. Outside my window, the street lay in pitch-black silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath. In my mind, a scene played out like a film noir—the quiet raised a revolver, cocked it with an ironic smile, and fired a single shot into the sky. Smoke curled, lingering, twisting into shapes. Thoughts exploded in my head, each one a stream of colour racing toward an unseen finish line. They tangled, danced, and in that restless moment, these are the words Eugene said on his creative process. It was then that I understood something, Eugene Pokutnev’ paintings feel exactly like this. I first saw Eugene’ work in Berlin, without knowing his name. His paintings weren’ just compositions of colour - they were movements. They seemed to shift before my eyes, pulling me in, disorienting me in the best way. Later, I learned his secret: ‘-black’ a rare Japanese paint so dense that it absorbs nearly all light, creating an illusion of infinite depth. He orders it from a master in Japan, layering it alongside vibrant colour, bending space itself on the canvas. When you stand before his work, it’ as if you’ falling into the painting, moving between its layers, losing balance for just a second. His journey into art was as unexpected as the effect of his work. Growing up in Dnipro (coincidentally my home town), a career in art was never considered an option. He spent his days sketching intricate patterns but, like many others in his city, he needed stability. So he became a policeman. And yet, fate has its way of rewriting stories. One day, while investigating a burglary, his colleague casually showed the apartment owner some of Eugene’ sketches. The man, a businessman with an eye for art, was so captivated that he made an offer on the spot: “ the police. I’ fund you.” And just like that, Eugene left law enforcement behind.

Tucked away in his studio, a space bursting with pigments and canvases in mid-creation, Artem Andreichuk welcomes visitors with the same vibrant energy that radiates from his work. The walls pulse with colour: lush, unapologetic, and raw. Here, the naked human form is not just a subject but a manifesto. Stripped of status, regalia, or pretence, his figures exist in perfect equilibrium with nature, unashamed, inviting, free. Artem’ journey as an artist is deeply tied to this pursuit of authenticity. Born in 1983, he has remained in Ukraine, shaping his artistic voice amid the ever-changing landscape of his homeland. His fascination with the human body is more than aesthetic—it’ philosophical. In a world layered with masks, he paints what remains when all is shed. Sensual yet unembellished, his figures embody a radical honesty, one that refuses to be confined. Yet, Andreichuk is not just about the body; he’ about the thrill of expression. On another wall, his minimalist works stand in stark contrast to the sensuality of his figurative pieces - youthful, witty, and exuding a rebellious charm. Layers of electrifying colours seem to wink at the viewer, as if daring them to embrace the absurdity and joy of existence. “ should be fun,” he says with a knowing smile, and his art ensures that it is. Beyond the canvas, Artem's creative spirit has always stretched into multiple realms. Music has been a lifelong companion, and as a former bassist for the indie band Blake Maloka, he has translated rhythm into brushstrokes, movement into stillness. His paintings, much like a well-played bass-line, carry an energy that hums beneath the surface; sometimes wild, sometimes restrained, but always present. To step into Artem Andreichuk’ world is to be reminded of life’ fundamental pleasures: skin meeting sun, laughter ringing through colour, rebellion found in joy. His work doesn’ just ask to be seen, it demands to be felt.