
In 2018, I was invited to curate and coordinate a cultural performance for a diplomatic function at the National Gallery of Australia, at the request of the Embassy of Ukraine and on the initiative of Christine Syvenkyj-Bailey. The performance was created primarily from Christine Syvenkyj-Bailey’s private collection, with additional contributions from the collections of Sonia Mycak and Roxolana Mishalow. I am deeply grateful to them for their generosity and trust.


This project was far more than event coordination — it was about giving history a voice. Every costume, ornament, and movement carried memory, identity, and meaning. My role was to carefully weave these elements into a coherent narrative that honoured tradition while allowing it to live and breathe in the present moment.
I oversaw the entire creative and organisational process: selecting traditional Ukrainian costume elements, sourcing authentic garments and objects from private collectors, and recreating historical headpieces and jewellery where originals could not be used. I wrote the presentation script to guide the audience through the story, and designed all visual and printed materials — from slides and banners to invitations, gifts, and calendars — ensuring a unified visual language throughout the event.
Behind the scenes, the work was equally intricate. I coordinated models and assistants, managed the careful transport of costumes and artefacts from Sydney to Canberra and back, and balanced countless logistical details so that, on the day, everything felt effortless and dignified.
What emerged was not simply a performance, but a living expression of cultural memory.







Knowing your tools deeply — how they behave, how they age, how they respond to light and heat — changes the way you work and the confidence with which you make decisions. During my time at Azur Studio in Kyiv, we took part in a number of art trips across Europe, visiting paint and medium manufacturers directly. These experiences were invaluable. Being able to ask questions about materials from the people who created them — the chemists, designers, and technicians behind the products — gave us insights no manual or catalogue ever could. Who could know the materials better than those who developed them? Along the way, we also participated in workshops with local designers who introduced us to the full potential of different gels and pastes, transparent and opaque paints, and specialised products for textile decoration and pseudo stained glass. We explored techniques for creating patina, working with gilding, and layering surfaces in ways that expanded both technical knowledge and creative possibility. I often find myself missing those times — being surrounded by like-minded professionals, travelling, learning, experimenting, and talking endlessly about what we loved most: paint, surface, and decoration. Those journeys shaped not only my technical approach, but also my respect for materials as active partners in the creative process.

My journey with oil painting began in year 7, when I was studying at the State Secondary Art School in Kyiv, Ukraine — a highly selective school that required passing three entrance exams in painting, drawing, and composition. It was there that we transitioned from watercolours and gouache to the timeless medium of oils. I’ve always loved this classical medium. Oils have a long and rich tradition in fine art, and I’ve admired their depth, luminosity, and the way colours blend so seamlessly on the canvas. Working with oils teaches patience and reflection — they dry slowly, giving time to build layers with care and intention. I feel incredibly fortunate to have received proper academic training in the classical use of oils, alongside in-depth knowledge of anatomy, linear perspective, perception principles, and art history. That foundation continues to shape how I see and create today, allowing me to appreciate not only the technique but also the discipline and history behind every brushstroke.