Ukrainian designers try to put domestic living space in order
Alla Botanova, editor of the Arkhideya [Orchid], Ukraine’s only magazine specializing in architecture and design, made the first attempt to penetrate private interiors in October 2002. The result was that every expert she turned to with the idea of playing with space and submitting works for judgment by the general public agreed despite his or her tight schedule. Some of the participants in the project explained the consent, saying it was “a good opportunity to stir up our swamp.”
“Can you mention a number of interesting events organized to draw public attention to decor?” asks the project coordinator. And she knows the answer. Even though experts insist that Ukraine is experiencing something like a boom in this sphere — meaning that an increasing number of people hire professional interior designers to do their homes — those that do are in no hurry to identify themselves with their interiors. Meaning that everyone else has practically nothing to learn good taste from. Arkhideya, in demonstrating such good taste, often finds it difficult to talk owners into sharing the results of good designer design.
On the other hand, had things been that all bad, there would have been no such journal at all, nor would there have been the second exhibit. The task set then and now remains the same, filling one’s home with objects to make living aesthetically as well as practically enjoyable, while complying with the customer’s individual whims as much as possible, while venting the designer’s own professional requirements and creative inspiration. Yury Ryntovt, one of the company designers, breathed new life in the white expanses of the venerable halls of the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy using wood and wrought iron. It is in objects originating from the nineteenth century, things that seems to have been made by someone other than man, that the author believes the human soul exists. Iryna Dubrovina’s Breakfast for Two has a light touch, like the weightless bridal veil. And of course, it is white and unthinkable without Venetian glassware. Crude wrought iron, the severity of stone, and the lightness of bright scarlet silk — all this is present in Yury Suhak’s abstract Orchid, dedicated to the periodical born that same year. The design, however, appears a natural component of the interior, albeit one belonging to an individual with an expressly unconventional outlook on life.
The Space exhibit, currently on display at the Lavra Gallery is wholly and thoroughly dedicated to the theme of Delight — or to the Habit of Freedom, running parallel and being equal to the project’s concept. Both ideas are manifestly there, even if the title of the exposition remains unknown to the visitor. For Kateryna Borysenko of Kyiv, the time spent exploring and admiring the plants in the hothouse interior created by the author are when one can “hold time still and feel the heartbeat of life” (pardon my using a commercial cliche). To her, it is the dominant sign of beauty and a source of spiritual comfort (The Day will shortly dwell on this subject, which is acquiring a special meaning in contemporary interior design). Mariya Hlushchenko, another contributing designer, was prompted in her theme by Milorad Pavic, a Serbian writer. Her version of filling empty space, echoing his being “happy amongst common unhappiness” means being able to forget that the notion of being petty bourgeois has a negative implication. Surrounding oneself with a great many little mundane joys, like homemade serviettes, quilts, carpets, rugs, hand-embroidered linen is a challenge to those condemning mortals afflicted with this accursed mania. Olena Turianska’s Life Like Art should be interpreted literally; her blissful enjoyment of Indian cushions and the semidarkness of an Oriental tent, that very factor which had once served to unite Eastern and Western cultures, however polarized. Serhiy Stepaniv finds the greatest delight in the luxury of interlocution. It is tranquilizing factor, so the designer believes that a combination of brown and hot yellow dominated by green manifests the presence of a multitude of plants.
“This is the last exhibit in my life” is the phrase Alla Botanova is known by eyewitnesses to have repeated when conceiving and holding the very first and the current project. No one mentions the reason for this statement, but it is safe to assume that she has experienced hardships owing to the clumsy Ukrainian public approach. Actually, the explanation is quite simple. Having funds is great help in bringing a family abode into harmony with those who live there (given the professional designer’s aid). Professionals, however, stress that their absence is no cause to vent one’s emotions. Just as it is no cause for one to display one’s sluggish spirit. Feng Sui, at a closer look, is a science worth consideration. After all, demand begets supply.
The exhibit is open for one and all to explore at the Lavra Gallery in Kyiv before it closes on January 25.
