VERONIKA BLYZNIUCHENKO: «Beauty is my form of resistance»

Veronika Blyzniuchenko / Photo from personal archive

SHORT PROFILE

Name: Veronika Blyzniuchenko

Date of Birth: July 16, 1996

Place of Birth: Kharkiv, Ukraine

Profession: Artist, Master’s degree from the Kharkiv State Academy of Design and Arts

Veronika Blyzniuchenko is a contemporary Ukrainian artist. She works in a unique signature technique, incorporating gold leaf or gold paint into her watercolor and oil pieces to emphasize the sacredness of the images she creates. Her main artistic ambition is to craft a beautiful visual universe. Today, we are publishing a conversation between the artist and Zhanna Kryuchkova, Editor-in-Chief of huxley.media.

As soon as our online conversation with Veronika Blyzniuchenko began, beautiful music started playing. «Sorry», Veronika said, «I’m working at the Basilica da Estrela in Lisbon, and there’s a service going on right now behind the wall of my room». These sounds gently filled the space of our conversation. It felt as if the atmosphere itself was setting the tone for our talk.

Zhanna Kryuchkova: Veronika, today’s meeting is special for me. I’ve been following your work with great interest for a long time, and recently, I purchased one of your pieces. I’m eagerly waiting for it to arrive physically, but it already lives in my heart.

Veronika Blyzniuchenko: Thank you so much.

Zh.K.: I’ve never done an interview before accompanied by the sound of a church choir. How did it happen that you’re working in such an extraordinary place — right inside a basilica in Lisbon?

V.B.: It happened completely by chance. One day, while walking around Lisbon, I went up to a viewpoint overlooking the basilica and garden. At that moment, I felt as if the place was calling me. Interestingly, just a couple of weeks before that, I had started working on a series of paintings dedicated to stars — deep, dark blue pieces, yet filled with light. And then I learned that the basilica is called Estrela, which means «star» in Portuguese. Such a striking coincidence.

Zh.K.: So the symbol appeared in your art even before you knew about the place?

V.B.: Yes, exactly. And I saw it as a sign. Later, when I visited the basilica, I immediately imagined that an exhibition could be born there. I shared my idea with a curator, and together, we went through a long process of approvals with the basilica’s administration to make the project possible.

Zh.K.: What is the very first creative memory you have from your life?

V.B.: I was born an artist. Since childhood, I had a hard time adapting to the conventional school system, and I suffered greatly because of it. But that experience made me strong and resilient. I’m grateful to everyone who’s been in my life — especially for the love and support of my family.

Zh.K.: And who are your parents, Veronika?

V.B.: Above all, they are incredibly loving. My childhood was filled with support, warmth, and creativity. My father is an incredibly creative person. Although he’s an engineer and has worked in the construction business with my mother all his life, he is a musician at heart.

He plays the piano, guitar, and accordion and easily takes on any creative task. I often asked him, «Dad, what would you be if you could choose anything?» And his answers always reflected a deep longing for freedom and creativity.

My mother is his partner in both life and work — they’re like one whole. She was always there for me, especially in childhood — nurturing and supporting me. I graduated from music school with a focus on piano and vocals. Music, like love, was a part of our family.

Zh.K.: Which artists inspire you?

V.B.: I’m inspired by artists who combine skill, soul, and a unique vision. I admire Matisse’s freedom, Klimt’s tenderness, Chagall’s spiritual strength, and Leonardo da Vinci’s symbolic depth. But I’m equally moved by anonymous masters of folk, primitive, and naïve art from my native Ukraine — those who create outside the spotlight yet with love, meaning, and truth. I’m also inspired by my own works — as a reminder of my journey and of essence.

Zh.K.: What does a muse mean to you?

V.B.: For me, a muse is an invisible presence that awakens an inner light — a gentle yet unshakable force that inspires, guides, and transforms the act of creation into something pure and elevated, bringing me peace.

My muse is not a specific person but rather a collection of feelings, memories, dreams, and perceptions born from contact with nature, silence, and the mystery of life. Sometimes, the beauty of the world — or even pain, difficulties, and obstacles — becomes a source of inspiration. I always transform them into kind feelings through my art.

Right now, my muse is the flowers I grow myself. Taking care of the garden and observing its changes gives me powerful metaphors for life. And through the example of the garden, I clearly see that we reap what we sow.

Zh.K.: Are there days when the muse suddenly falls silent? What do you do in those moments?

V.B.: Even if I don’t have a specific idea, I keep working. I start with something simple: preparing canvases, priming them, applying varnish or gold — that’s already part of the creative process. Routine actions awaken inspiration. I used to experience such creative pauses during my time at the academy — back then, it felt like pain and a search for self.

But since coming out of that period, I haven’t encountered it again. Over the past three years — in Portugal and before the war — I don’t recall a single day when I wasn’t creating. The muse might go quiet for a couple of hours, but I always find new strength. The key is not to wait for inspiration but to walk toward it.

Zh.K.: Lately, I’ve been thinking more and more that justice without mercy is meaningless. What do you think about that?

V.B.: Very often, when people strive for justice, they can cross certain boundaries and easily end up on the dark side of existence. That’s something I always try to avoid. Instead, I aim to transform pain, difficulties — even suffering — into beauty, into uplifting emotions.

Zh.K.: So, is mercy, in its essence, higher than justice?

V.B.: Yes, that’s how I feel. And my artistic ambition is to create a visual universe that deeply touches the human heart.

Zh.K.: To touch the human heart… After all, the word «mercy» itself contains the word «heart».

V.B.: I imagine people looking at my works even 500 years from now. I want to leave a legacy of beauty, tenderness, and meaning — for my creations to remain rays of light for human souls in difficult times. I want my art to stand as a testament to the tenderness and strength of the human spirit.

Zh.K.: Is there a phrase that accompanies you through life?

V.B.: Yes, the phrase is: «Beauty is a choice». In chaos or in peace, in pain or in celebration — beauty remains my path and my daily choice. It’s also the title of my current project at the Basilica da Estrela and of my upcoming book. For me, beauty is spiritual, aesthetic, and material. It’s a conscious response that I choose to offer the world, no matter the circumstances.

Zh.K.: You say that beauty is a choice. But how can one make that choice when your native Kharkiv lies in ruins? Many artists, during the war, pour their pain onto the canvas in raw and harsh images.

V.B.: That evokes resistance within me. On the first night of the war, I was finishing one of my works and went to bed at dawn. When everything began, I didn’t wake up with fear — my first thought was about how to take my materials down to the parking lot so I could keep painting. I couldn’t and didn’t want to make pain the central subject of my art. Beauty is my form of resistance. It’s not an escape from reality — it’s a conscious choice in favor of humanity.

International Short Story Competition «ODESSSIADA»

Zh.K.: And still, in such tragedy — where did you find the strength not to close yourself off but to keep creating? How did that choice turn into action?

V.B.: I’m convinced that any period, even the most dramatic one, can become a source of strength, lessons, and beauty. At the beginning of the war, I was in Kharkiv, and later, I moved to Portugal — and took on a project at the Basilica da Estrela that seemed impossible in itself: I restored and opened to the public 2,000 square meters of space in a historic building that had been closed for decades.

I had no resources — no government support, no grants, no sponsors. I invested everything I had: my labor, my knowledge, and even my sense of stability. I sacrificed almost everything to help others breathe life into this place. Today, it is open to people — as a place of culture, memory, and new hope. It became a confirmation of my deep belief: each of us is responsible for the choices we make every day.

Zh.K.: The choice of true beauty is impossible without honesty. After all, where does falseness arise — in life or in art? Sometimes, even the slightest untruth, the faintest hint of insincerity, is enough to sever the connection with the Truth within yourself.

V.B.: That’s a very powerful statement. I believe that absolutely everything begins with pure intentions. If there’s something not entirely sincere in your intent, the path may not unfold. That’s why it’s so important to be honest with yourself — then the choice of beauty and goodness becomes your natural state.

Zh.K.: How do you respond when you meet someone with great talent or exceptionally high intelligence?

V.B.: I feel genuine admiration and interest. I enjoy observing, learning, and being inspired. But I never compare my art to the work of others. That’s one of the reasons I don’t take part in competitions, despite numerous invitations.

I believe that my art has its own place in the world — it doesn’t need to compete or be judged. The only competition I accept is with myself. With every new piece, I strive to surpass myself, to go deeper, to grow. And that is enough.

Zh.K.: Have there been times when you turned down a lucrative opportunity? Could you share an example — something you consciously refused because you felt: no, this isn’t mine?

V.B.: I turn down commissions quite often. I can only accept an offer if it resonates with my feelings or aligns with the series I’m currently working on. I can’t work with a theme that feels foreign to me, that doesn’t resonate. It’s easy for me to say «no» when I sense it’s not mine.

I work 14–16 hours a day. That time is invaluable. I can’t give it to something that doesn’t speak to me. I’ve never taken on a project if I felt an internal disconnect because, over the years, I’ve learned to distinguish what is truly mine and what is not.

Zh.K.: You work 14–16 hours a day. What drives you to work so much, almost without pause?

V.B.: I accumulate the energy of inspiration, and if I don’t release it, it starts to get in the way. For me, creativity is a continuous process where everything must happen in its own time. Some works can only be created in a specific moment — not tomorrow, not later, but right now.

Self-discipline isn’t a gift — it’s a daily spiritual practice. It’s a form of personal responsibility: for inspiration, for time, for the ability to share. I’ve never relied on external stimulants — no cigarettes, no alcohol. What supports me are the images of art that have yet to be created.

Sometimes they come in dreams, sometimes they just build up in my mind — like compositions I don’t draw, but live through. I can’t remember a single day when I wasn’t painting or doing something with my hands. A pause, for me, feels like a step backward.

Zh.K.: And how important is it to you where your works end up? Do you follow their fate?

V.B.: I never make spontaneous or random sales. I know almost every collector who owns my works personally — or at least we’ve been in touch on social media. These are people who have followed my work for a long time. I have around twenty regular collectors. They’re not just buyers — they’re my circle, people with whom I share a living connection.

Zh.K.: I recently attended a lecture by an art historian on the topic of artists and gifting their work. One line stuck with me: «Never give your works as gifts. That devalues them». What’s your take on that?

V.B.: I disagree. Of course, every artist has their own position, reputation, and pricing policy, and I’ve been building mine for years. But there are special cases when a work isn’t created for an exhibition or the market — but as a message. Sometimes, I consciously choose not to display such a piece but to give it to a specific person. And that decision can be even more meaningful than a sale. Because true value isn’t always about price.

Zh.K.: What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

V.B.: If you truly believe in yourself — everything around you will start to align with your dreams. And once you gain absolute confidence — many others will believe in you too.

Zh.K.: What do you dream of on a personal level?

V.B.: I dream of living in peace, surrounded by nature, creating freely and without hurry, in an environment where love, art, and truth are at the heart of life.

Zh.K.: What metaphor or literary image best describes modern Ukraine?

V.B.: Modern Ukraine is like an ancient sacred tree with deep and unyielding roots. Even wounded, it stands brave and in bloom. I see the country as a tragic and, at the same time, heroic figure — a silent young warrior woman who, despite the loss, continues to offer the world the fruits of culture, beauty, and hope.

Zh.K.: You compared Ukraine to a tree — what part of that tree do you feel you are? A root, a branch, or maybe a blossom?

V.B.: I don’t feel myself at the top, or at the roots, or at any particular level. My first association is this: I’m like a fine internal nerve, a fiber running through the entire tree — from its deepest roots to its highest crown. Not the bark, not a leaf, not a branch — but something unseen that connects and feels everything from within.

Zh.K.: Today, war is raging, not only in Ukraine. The world is losing its balance, sinking deeper into hostility and division. Do you think it’s possible to forgive the enemy?

V.B.: Yes, the enemy can be forgiven — but true forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting or justifying. For me, forgiveness is an internal act of liberation. It’s not erasing the pain but choosing not to let it control me. It’s the transformation of a wound into wisdom and a step forward without the weight of hatred.

But forgiveness doesn’t exclude justice. It can coexist with the pursuit of truth, accountability, and remembrance. I forgive to remain light, alive, and capable of creating — even in a world that often tries to harden us. I don’t hate people — I reject the system.

Zh.K.: What would you change in your hometown of Kharkiv when you return?

V.B.: My hometown is beautiful and filled with talented people. I had to leave because of the war, but my heart and my family are still there. I believe it’s possible to realize major projects without relying on government funds — and if such resources are used, then with transparency, responsibility, and truth. More than words, I want to inspire through actions and results. And in time, I will bring to life major projects in my city and in my country.

Photo provided by Veronika Bliznyuchenko

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