Academic Vandalism.

“Academic Vandalism” might sound straightforward at first, but its essence runs much deeper than it seems. What does this concept truly mean for me as an artist, and why this combination?

Academic painting has always been a part of my life. As a child, I grew up surrounded by the academic works of my grandfather and his collection of Soviet-era artists. My father passed down stories and the basics of drawing and painting, shaping my understanding of art. These influences undeniably shaped my taste and perspective on academic painting. At the same time, I always felt the urge to create something unique—to express myself. 

Graffiti was my first form of self-expression, and it has remained a constant hobby over the years. I’m drawn to contrasts, to breaking rules, and to transforming traditional ideas into something unexpected. But I believe that in order to successfully break the rules, control them, and play with them, you first need to learn them. You must approach the process with diligence; otherwise, you're not breaking rules—you’re simply making mistakes, creating fakes, or producing parodies. 

With academic painting, there is so much to learn and explore. It’s a process of trial and error, and you must keep practicing, even when it is frustrating. You have to study and work as the old masters once did. Before starting most canvases, I sketch the elements I plan to paint. I study tone and color, often exploring different sizes and compositions. This helps me build a relationship with the future canvas.

Some days it flows easily; other days, it’s harder, and the process takes longer. But in the end, after all the emotional effort, I cover my work with spray paint in just a few seconds, transforming a “nice landscape” or a “beautiful still life” into something “destroyed,” “messed up,” or however you might describe it—turning it into a piece of art.

Some might see this as an emotional challenge, and in a way, it is. Sometimes, adding a single line to a canvas in my studio — a perfect, quiet environment — stresses me more than doing illegal graffiti ever could. Yet, I’ve found that I feel much better after adding that final spray of paint. It means the canvas was a success for me — it means I’ve achieved something, reached new goals, and learned something along the way. For me, the act of creating is more about the process than the final result. It’s about studying new rules and gaining knowledge and experience. And if the process is successful, I’m happy to vandalize it — because, in the end, all those rules and the quest for perfection can feel stifling.

The key is that I only “destroy” my own work. I don’t buy paintings from unknown artists at garage sales or antique shops; I create them myself, which gives them a unique and personal value.

Academic Vandalism, at its core, is about freedom — freedom from the fear of ruining what you’ve made, freedom from the fear of failure, and the awareness that you will be criticized and disliked by many.

At its heart, Academic Vandalism is my life story. It’s about blending my past experiences with my present passions and knowledge. It’s a lifestyle. I hope you can feel that too.