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.

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.