My name is Ekaterina Evsikova. I was born on May 20, 1973 in Moscow.
My childhood and youth was unremarkable. I received a comprehensive classical education in the fields of drawing and painting; I know ancient techniques in the applied arts; I have skills in the sculptural arts.
I took my Master’s degree at Moscow State Stroganov Academy of Design and Applied Arts and the Moscow Institute of Architecture.
In the mid-1990s, under the pressure of circumstances, I entered the advertising industry. I worked in advertising agencies and largest Russian publishing houses.
In 2009 I left the advertising world, freeing myself from constant stress and office routine, and started working for myself as a freelance designer on Russian and European projects. I was involved in the creation of jewelry, household products and architectural design.
I participate in the Aquilo3D project to create technology that allows the artist to sculpt intuitively and as freely as possible in three dimensions (Aquilo Sarl., Luxembourg).
I’m a member of the Russia Union of Artists; a member of the Partnership of Artists and Art Designers of Hungary; a member of the Association Internationale des Arts Plastiques (UNESCO partners).
In 2012, in a completely unexpected manner, and for no apparent reason, I started the Release.
It was a need. Material things were literally choking me; I was drowning in abundance, excess and consumerism and felt the need to clear the space around me.
I spent two years maniacally getting rid of unnecessary objects – first, little things like clothes and cosmetics, then larger and larger things. By 2014, I owned a small, rationally designed and austerely furnished apartment, a small car and a minimal set of clothing. That’s all.
I had been living for some time in Luxembourg and I was planning to stay there, but… man proposes, but God disposes. In 2015 I got ill. The damp air in Luxembourg was bad for me, so I started moving between there and Hungary, which heals me.
Around this time, I felt the need for artistic expression. I recorded my impressions of the mysteriously hazy nature of Luxembourg in a series of graphics (watercolor, drawing ink, pencil) that I called Reflections (2015–2016).
In the modern world, it is impossible to commune with nature without becoming aware of the huge amount of garbage everywhere. I began to draw the things I found: all sorts of wrappers, pieces of plastic, lost or abandoned objects. This garbage upset me because of the obvious harm and danger it represented, but at the same time its unusual aesthetics fascinated me. I started collecting the garbage and handing it over to be recycled. Some items that especially impressed me, I kept. I admired these pieces of garbage, played with them, made compositions using them. They became Plastic Still Lifes.
Works of art from the series Plastic Still Lifes I and Plastic Still Lifes II have been exhibited in shows in Moscow, Budapest and Amsterdam.
Since the beginning of 2017, a number of apparently random incidents and people have combined in the most improbable way, as though in a theatrical production in which Fate itself prepared the stage and drew the characters. This chain of events, both tragic and happy, eventually led me to a moment of Bifurcation. My Great Adventure began.
This experience, which I am still trying to understand, is reflected in my work Investigabiles viae Domini (God works in mysterious ways), 2017– (unfinished).
In the spring of 2018, I took a spade and dug several square meters of wild land by hand to physically exhaust and distract myself. Then I turned the land I had dug into a flower bed. I did all the work on it – hoeing, planting, watering, caring for plants – by hand all year round. It was a way of praying for George, a patron of the arts and a family friend, who was no longer with us, and also for all of us who remained.
In the course of this meditative practice, my relationship with time changed. I experienced timelessness. So, peace arrived. I expressed my thoughts and feelings in the form of a livre d’artiste (artist’s book), since George was a passionate collector of such publications – Continuitas (2018).
Since that time, on April 30th each year I sow flower seeds. Throughout the growing season, I take care of the flower garden bed, photograph all events that take place around it, and paint the flowers. On October 5th, I collect seeds and prepare the flower garden bed for the coming winter.
I intend to cherish Continuitas and the Memoria flores flower gardens until I no longer have the strength to do it.
The year 2019 was tranquil, without any scary events: an ordinary year, even a good one. Nevertheless, despite my apparent wellness, inside I kept feeling anxious, uneasy, full of gloomy forebodings; melancholy haunted me, exhausted me. I could hardly find the will to do anything, but I continued to record what was happening around me. I understood the importance of my studies, and yet the picture stubbornly failed to add up…
The pieces of the puzzle came together in 2020: MMXX.
The year turned out to be special. All hell broke loose: abnormal weather and rare natural phenomena; I lost relatives and friends from Covid-19. I accepted all these apocalyptic events, internally calmed down, and continued with zeal the sacred service in the flower garden.
I kept a diary to record my feelings and thoughts and came up with some images and ideas. This story is posted in detail on Instagram: @continuitatem.
At the end of summer I came out of what must have been a trance, and realized that I was engaged in my Magnum Opus (an alchemical term meaning “great work”) – what Carl Gustav Jung would have called the harmonization of consciousness and the unconscious. I explored this until the end of the year. It became a diary and a guide book.
My work does not end – I am still experiencing the Wonderful Adventure.
I contemplation. I listen. I adopt. I think.