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20 years

One Very Tall Tree and Four Wings

Anastasia Rybakova
July 18 — August 17, 2025
Gallery "Triumph"
At the center of the new project is the artist’s distinctive method, based on working with personal memories and sensory perception.
The Triumph Gallery presents a solo exhibition by Anastasia Rybakova titled One Very Tall Tree and Four Wings. At the center of the new project is the artist’s distinctive method, rooted in working with personal memories and sensory perception. The exhibition draws on Rybakova’s childhood experiences connected to a dacha near Krasnoyarsk, where she spent her summers and from which she dreamed of leaving for the city. The project brings together graphic works and installations made of textile, wire, and found materials.
Midnight Evaporation of the Glowing Souls of Bats in the Middle of a Summer Dacha Plot, 2003
2025
Primed plywood, colored pencil, varnish
100×100×4 cm
Midnight Evaporation of the Glowing Souls of Bats in the Middle of a Summer Dacha Plot, 2003
2025
Primed plywood, colored pencil, varnish
100×100×4 cm
The Triumph Gallery presents a solo exhibition by Anastasia Rybakova titled One Very Tall Tree and Four Wings. At the center of the new project is the artist’s distinctive method, rooted in working with personal memories and sensory perception. The exhibition draws on Rybakova’s childhood experiences connected to a dacha near Krasnoyarsk, where she spent her summers and from which she dreamed of leaving for the city. The project brings together graphic works and installations made of textile, wire, and found materials.
The exhibition space unfolds as a sequence of episodes—"shelter," "fears," "ritual," "preparation"—which fragmentarily describe a path toward an unrealized escape. In this new project, Rybakova’s visual language shifts from "animated" flowers and plants to photorealistic sketches based on fragments of both warm and тревожных childhood memories. Repeated, densely crosshatched images of trees become a tool for reconstructing an environment that is at once unsettling and alluring, filled with childhood fears, fantasies, and a sense of freedom. Installations and objects become part of a playful narrative where the artist’s personal stories coexist with more universal elements of childhood experience.
Unfortunately, Some Branches Turned Out to Be Too Flexible
2025
Primed plywood, colored pencil, varnish
100×100 cm
Unfortunately, Some Branches Turned Out to Be Too Flexible
2025
Primed plywood, colored pencil, varnish
100×100 cm
The exhibition space unfolds as a sequence of episodes—"shelter," "fears," "ritual," "preparation"—which fragmentarily describe a path toward an unrealized escape. In this new project, Rybakova’s visual language shifts from "animated" flowers and plants to photorealistic sketches based on fragments of both warm and тревожных childhood memories. Repeated, densely crosshatched images of trees become a tool for reconstructing an environment that is at once unsettling and alluring, filled with childhood fears, fantasies, and a sense of freedom. Installations and objects become part of a playful narrative where the artist’s personal stories coexist with more universal elements of childhood experience.
Although every summer comes to an end and children are taken home from their "exile," the feeling of abandonment and insufficiency often lingers for years. Two decades later, Rybakova returns to these motifs, creating fragile constructions from wire and fabric—an attempt to realize a long-deferred flight. From this elevated perspective, images of an inaccessible city emerge, with playgrounds and the figure of a mother, which the artist transforms into intimate and deliberately naive graphic works. For Rybakova, childhood amnesia becomes a tool for reassembling memory and a means of gradually reconstructing the illusion of freedom.
From the Fin series
2025
Paper, colored pencil
25 x 25 cm
From the Fin series
2025
Paper, colored pencil
25 x 25 cm
Although every summer comes to an end and children are taken home from their "exile," the feeling of abandonment and insufficiency often lingers for years. Two decades later, Rybakova returns to these motifs, creating fragile constructions from wire and fabric—an attempt to realize a long-deferred flight. From this elevated perspective, images of an inaccessible city emerge, with playgrounds and the figure of a mother, which the artist transforms into intimate and deliberately naive graphic works. For Rybakova, childhood amnesia becomes a tool for reassembling memory and a means of gradually reconstructing the illusion of freedom.
Made on
Tilda