What sound belongs to which place? In the old painting gallery, there was a detuned piano and a harp, and suddenly my Eastern, post-Soviet upbringing returned. Back then, it was expected for children to learn either violin or piano at the conservatory, regardless of whether there was enough money for daily groceries. It was about sustaining an illusion of high culture from within the working class. I wonder if practicing Rachmaninoff can really move you into a higher class. Here, I began playing piano again.

At the end of those two weeks, I invited my sisters and my mother. We started translating our own family dynamics into movement. The 200-year-old living room had to bend to our arguments, our care work, our attitude. Thank you for following this online and stepping into it with us, even briefly.

Everything we did was rooted in the everyday rhythms of living together. In the evenings, we sat at the table, drank tea, and tried to recall the small reactions and triggers we set off in one another, along with our migration story from Russia in 2001. My mother still believes she will never learn English, even though she built a house in a foreign country. Slowly, the dust settles, and I begin to realize how emotional it was to stage a migrated home in front of an audience, inside a historical upper-class living room. As if you were exposing your most intimate interior, knowing it could be interpreted and judged afterward.

In these drawings, I’m testing an urban landscape that gathers belonging. Recently, a friend and collector asked me, “How can you prevent ‘the wrong’ flags from appearing in a parade?”

Today I’m asking myself: under which flag would everyone actually want to walk? It makes sense to search for symbols that haven’t been appropriated by party politics, while still holding a common thread.

To truly bring all communities together in the city center on 28.08.26, I plan to work weekly with young people in the coming months and connect with self-organized groups—street dancers, skaters, BMX riders… I want to question both the political and aesthetic nature of a parade. I found a beautiful article by María Inés Plaza Lazo about the work of Diane Severin Nguyen. If you’d like to join the parade, write back!