Interview with Daria Morozova
Juliet Kennedy
Tuesday 10 December 2024
Daria is an artist who, through her work, explores the complicated connection between cultures and languages. Juliet had the opportunity to interview Daria to find out more about her influences, her work and her goals.
Daria was born in Tallinn, Estonia, and has lived there her whole life. However, all her family roots are Slavic - from Russian, to Ukrainian, to Bessarabian. Coming from a Russian-speaking family in Estonia, her work explores challenges of identity, focusing on the experiences of Russian ethnicity in Estonia. Namely, language barriers, assimilation, and the emotional struggle of living between two cultures. She draws from both personal and social experiences, intending to show that identity is complex and ever-changing. By mixing abstract and figurative elements, she reflects feelings of connection and isolation.
Growing up in Estonia with Slavic roots, how do you navigate the connection between your Estonian environment and your family’s Russian, Ukrainian, and Bessarabian heritage in your work?
To start, I’d like to clarify that while my Slavic roots are diverse, I feel more closely connected to Russian culture. My mother is from St. Petersburg, as were her mother and grandmother. Until the invasion, I had visited St. Petersburg multiple times, and it remains in my memory as something warm. Slavic culture is incredibly broad and varied, so I feel it’s essential to mention that my work right now mainly explores Russianness.
In my art, I blend elements that are hard to assign exclusively to one culture or another. It’s as challenging to separate them in my paintings as it is within myself. But if I had to, I’d say the Estonian side in my paintings is represented by blue—a color that holds deep meaning for me and in which I feel I currently live. The Russian side, on the other hand, is red: beloved and beautiful but currently intense and complex. For example, my duo of paintings, “awareness” and “rejection”, reflects a period in my life when I wanted to hide my Russianness and the moral exhaustion that came with that desire.
In what ways do your two cultural backgrounds influence your identity? How do you express this duality in your art?
It’s difficult for me to separate which part of me comes from which culture since they’re so interwoven. In 2020, I tried to divide them and always ended up feeling like I was either the “wrong” kind of Russian or not quite Estonian enough, haha. It took me some time to understand that both backgrounds influence me almost equally and are equally important to me. Now, I want to find the shared, relatable aspects within both backgrounds, bringing them together in my paintings.
A good example is how I’ve begun approaching complex themes and emotions through nature. Estonian nature deeply inspires me, and I spend a lot of time in the forests—just as I grew up with Russian fairy tales, where nature often takes center stage, and looking at paintings by Shishkin, Aivazovsky, and Kuindzhi that my mom showed me. Later, I discovered Estonian painters like Konrad Mägi, Aili Vint, Paul Raud, and others on my own. There’s something beautiful in the shared love of nature between both cultures. For instance, in one of my recent works, “Wind blew the wrong direction”, there are pines—trees that feel like home to me both here and there. A forest that will listen to anyone.
I am interested in the video piece, “I would stop being…”, which aims to give a voice to Russian-speaking Estonians. Can you tell me more about it?
Over the past three years, the themes of language barriers and belonging have become central for me. Until university, I didn’t have a single Estonian friend due to the strong separation of communities in Tallinn. I learned Estonian fairly well in school, and when I found myself as the only Russian-speaking student in my university cohort, I made friends and was understood. Still, it took at least six months to adapt to the Estonian slang and fast pace. Studying was more challenging for me than for native speakers, and although my environment was friendly and tolerant, I still felt like an outsider. Even though I grew up in the same country, the cultural context was very different. I’m the first in my family to speak Estonian fluently. All the media I consumed growing up was in Russian and later in English, but not in Estonian. So when my new friends talked about local television stars, I’d just blink and smile without any idea of who they were talking about. This situation might seem tiny but still in it, and all other similar, I inevitably felt lonely. This feeling was one of the reasons I wanted to know how other Russian speakers in Estonia were managing and what difficulties they faced, especially in such a tense time.
This led to my video piece “I would stop being…”. The work has three parts: a performance, narrated stories in the video, and an additional booklet with text. It was essential for me to experience what it would be like to try removing my cultural layer and literally burning it—the performance video reflects this. However, the core part is the anonymous stories and statements by Russian-Estonians about their self-perception as Russian speakers. When I read the stories sent to me by anonymous respondents, my heart broke at the amount of pain they endure. There were so many stories, and they felt so important to me that the ones not included in the video ended up in a separate booklet.
The piece received a range of responses. Some people liked it very much, while others criticized it, feeling it came from a victim’s perspective, which was never my intention. Currently, I’m working on a new exhibition, and this piece is one that will undergo significant changes. I believe I’ve found a very good way to enhance it.
Do you think your art helps to create a dialogue between Russian-speaking communities and Estonian society?
Yes. I think one of the main goals of this series of works was to start a dialogue. I wanted to show an honest side of identity and Russianness, and, for instance, give a small platform for those who have experienced something very difficult but have no one to share it with.
How do you hope viewers will connect emotionally with your work? Do you aim to help them reflect on their sense of identity and belonging?
I feel it’s essential for this theme not just to hang in the air but to be internalized by anyone who encounters my work. I genuinely hope that my works can give viewers a small push to look inside themselves and reflect—about themselves, others, and their place in this complex world.
The topic of identity is broad and challenging. I have been seeing a psychologist for two years now, where we also work through my perception of myself as a Russian speaker. Art is one of my ways of “healing.” Because Russian speakers are almost marginalized, expressing pain related to identity is challenging, if not impossible. So I wanted to create small spaces where anyone with an internal identity conflict—not just Russian speakers—could express themselves. I think it’s essential for people’s traumatic experiences to find a verbal outlet.
At my exhibition “To Become A New” in Narva, I created a small zone with a questionnaire where people could anonymously share their stories. For the upcoming exhibition of same works in Tartu, I plan to create something similar, but in the form of a notebook. Perhaps, when I have enough anonymous stories, I’ll make a publication that brings them together to form a portrait of the self-perception of Russian speakers in Estonia and beyond.
In what ways do you hope your work contributes to a broader conversation about the experience of being a Russian-speaking Estonian?
I think my primary focus is the desire to start a dialogue between Russian speakers and Estonians. My work, as an artist, reflects my experience as a Russian-speaking Estonian, which, in turn, can become part of a broader conversation about what it’s like to live at the intersection of two cultures. In my paintings, I explore questions of identity and belonging and the emotional and cultural transitions I face. I hope my art can help people understand more deeply what it’s like to exist at the intersection of cultural worlds. This is not only about cultural clashes or assimilation but also about the richness that comes from existing within multiple cultural spaces at once.
How can an interested reader engage with your art?
You can easily find me on Instagram by @dariakylm :))
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Images courtesy of Darya Morozova.
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Barbara Dawson
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Aunty Liz
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BETTS
Being a bilingual family (French mother and British father,) living in France I thought your article was extremely interesting . Have you research on bilingualism ? It seems that when the mother is British and the father French and they both live in France their children seem to be more bilingual than when the mother is French and the father is British . This is what we called mother tongue , isn't it ?
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Niamh
Such an interesting article!
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