A Collection That Chose Me : Where Drevo Began

Some collections I don’t “create.” They reveal themselves and chart their own path. Drevo did that. It asked for honesty, for patience, for faith in small miracles. Every landmark FAINA collection has a birth story; Drevo’s is stitched from lost clay walls, real hands, and a house that shouldn’t have survived—but did. And as Drevo took shape, more strange and beautiful things happened. I’ll share those next.

Drevo is one of those collections that chose me and decided how it wanted to come into the world.

From the start I knew the story had to be real—no staging, no gloss. The patterns had to come from archival documents. The people in our photos and film had to be real people, not models. And the house needed to be an authentic home with wall paintings—not a museum reconstruction. Without that honesty, nothing would resonate.

How did we create it

Finding that house nearly broke us. We searched for months, lost hope, and were moments from settling for a museum. Then, just days before the shoot, a miracle: a call about a home that had “appeared” out of nowhere, tucked far from roads and people. Its survival felt impossible; the wall paintings were exactly as we found them—unpolished, breathing, intact. When we entered, Drevo seemed to clear the dust and reveal what was still alive inside.

I wanted to show continuity—the passing of hands and memory from grandmother to mother to granddaughter. For the shoot I searched for a young girl and an elderly woman. We never expected them to resemble each other, yet when their portraits were placed side by side, the same eye shape appeared, the same softness, the same energy—as if one person across time. Another quiet miracle. During filming, the young woman suddenly began to sing. It wasn’t planned. Her voice was so pure I couldn’t hold back tears. Later we learned the grandmother also sang beautifully. Again, a living thread between generations.

That day I felt—once more—the strength of Ukrainian women, and the importance of trusting instinct. The grandmother invited us to share her homemade fruit liqueur with such warmth that everything in me said say yes, but we politely declined. She smiled and said, “Then the road back won’t be easy.” And it wasn’t. The way home was long and rough, as if the land itself were reminding us that hospitality and intuition are also part of the story.

Rooted in ancient beliefs, the Ukrainian home was always more than a physical space. Every surface held meaning. Symbols were not decoration but protection. Patterns were not aesthetic but alive. With simple tools and intuitive hands, people inscribed care into their walls, infusing domestic space with strength, memory, and hope. Our ancestors lived in connection with nature; bodies, dwellings, land—everything belonged to a unified whole. Through embroidery, painting, and weaving, they brought meaning and spirit into their surroundings.

about the collection

Drevo carries many layers and stages. It began with my fascination for the minimalism of Podillia’s wall painting, and then, as if guided, it led me deeper into this region—into archives, field notes, and fragile drawings that captured what clay walls could no longer hold. The collection features 18 metal panels inspired by traditional wall paintings, with patterns sourced from ethnographic records and reinterpreted in contemporary form. Most panels center on the Tree of Life—vitality, rebirth, continuity. Around it, floral elements appear throughout, evoking beauty, abundance, and the energy of life within the home.

These motifs once had specific placements and meanings. Some were painted above windows—like the pattern from Kochubivka, where two birds face one another, a quiet expression of harmony and care. Others adorned ovens—such as those recorded in Dmytrushky—filling the heart of the home with warmth, both literal and spiritual. A circular motif from Hererzhenivka, now reimagined as a round metal panel, features a ring of hooked forms—abstract and enduring. Each panel carries the name of a real woman whose painting lives in the archives, honoring the line of hands that kept these symbols alive. These were acts of animation—rituals that gave life to space. Drevo brings these gestures back into our interiors as carriers of memory.

I believe a room is more than a reflection of its owner. It can collaborate with us—protecting, energizing, inspiring. Drevo is about interaction and connection, bridging past and future through objects that carry presence and intention. Where the original paintings on clay faded with time, the engraved metal panels preserve this language in a lasting, architectural form—a modern-day talisman resonating with both memory and modernity.

"Our grandmothers and great-grandmothers knew how to wake a home. Their creative, feminine force carried them through the weight of daily life. Wall painting was their quiet ritual—a moment to pour in energy and patience. That act of painting was both a path inward and a way to animate the room with living energy: they wove a piece of their soul, their hopes, beliefs, and strength into the walls—and it worked. I want that act of enlivening to live in our present, even if in a new form, so that anyone can bring into their interiors the symbols and love encoded in each motif—once lost in clay, now etched in metal." Victoria Yakusha

about the material

Each panel is crafted from stainless steel—a durable, modern material chosen for its permanence and clarity. Unlike repoussé, which is traditionally worked on softer metals, Drevo is engraved into solid steel. The motifs, based on ethnographic drawings, are transferred by hand with sharp tools and a steady grip. It is tactile and deliberate; the material allows no shortcuts. One mistake, and the entire piece may need to be redone.

This work asks for balance—between fragility and strength, instinct and control. Every mark carries the tension of its making. In this, Drevo is both artifact and gesture: a slow, intentional invitation to live with meaning.