Buy Valerian Iakubovski a coffee

For an artist, a situation like forced emigration is not a
problem to solve in pursuit of comfort but an obligation to seek and speak about the truth, to dig for deeper answers:
systemic, philosophical, and aesthetic. Art is an effort. To stick to the truth in the age when it has no value.

My name is Vladislav Valerian Iakubovskii. I am an artist, photographer, and writer from the swampy north, where the rivers are deep, the seas are frozen, the forests are thick,
and silence still wins out over the noise of the engines.
I was forced to flee my native land to avoid being killed, being made to kill, or being silenced.
I now wander through places that will or will not welcome me, if only for a short time.
Oppressors have taken away my home, irreversibly ruined my health, and killed someone I loved. And my art has become integral to my struggle.
Art is an effort. To stick to the truth in the age when it has no value.
I use abstract and meditative, deadpan and symbolic photography (analogue and digital), text, and video art to confront what I consider evil.