Olesya Dzhurayeva

Every existence carries its own story — whether it belongs to a person, an animal, a city, or even a building. These stories are shaped by countless moments: vivid and dull, fleeting and repetitive, extraordinary and ordinary.

For many years, I have worked closely with objects, drawn to uncover the traces of their past. My attention was often captured by everyday items — bicycles, garments, shoes, household utensils. For a long time, I found myself especially focused on cups and plates. I cannot fully explain this attraction, perhaps because they seemed easier to "read". A cup of coffee in the morning — alone or shared. Tea in the evening — quiet or filled with conversation. Each held subtle narratives.

The tradition of still life trained me to observe more deeply — to notice, interpret, and listen. Through it, I gradually learned to sense the quiet pulse of life itself.

Eventually, I realized that the most compelling subject for me was the city I inhabit. For years, I walked the same route to my studio, day after day, across all seasons. Everything around me kept shifting: the weather, clothing styles, car designs, advertisements. The city moved constantly—sometimes loud and hurried, sometimes soft and almost whispering — but never truly silent. One only needs to pause and pay attention to hear it.

That is how I began to explore architecture — as if it were a vast, enduring record of lived experience.
My primary medium is linocut, a technique I have been devoted to for nearly a decade. Even now, it continues to reveal new possibilities, allowing me to express ideas more precisely and to build a deeper connection with the viewer.