Les Jours Maudits
2014, in Ukraine. In the city-centre of Kiev, in the confined space of an engraving studio, some pupils come to consult the Master. Protected from the outside world, this is where Vladimir devotes himself to teaching precise lines, in between cups of coffee. Time seems suspended here, while fragments of the present infiltrate the workshop: the sounds and images of the revolution that is rumbling on Maidan Nezalezhnosti (Independence Square) get this far, against the will of Vladimir, who is reluctant to recognise that his country’s history may influence his life or his work. And yet, the fine line of his pencil represents all the violence of the past, of the present and perhaps already a future war, which explodes. Artem Iurchenko also studied in this workshop as one of Vladimir’s pupils. For him, to come back here with his camera means creating a breach, opening a door, initiating a movement. He circulates between the interior and the exterior, from the frozen décor of the studio, haunted by still lives, to the constantly reconstructed scene of the barricades on the square, then the departure of its conscripts towards Donbass.