"Station 1" / sculpture

Part 1

Emerging from the studio in the morning, I developed a habit of looking toward the opposite mountain, to the spot where a white dot gleamed. If everything remained unchanged, then all was well. If the cube was not visible, yet hadn’t been demolished, the issue lay in its surface—the "husk" of its coloration. This realization gave birth to a more strategic concept unfolded in time. The cube began to live a diverse life, periodically changing its "clothes" into ideological or simply pop-culture guises. While accumulating various revelations in the form of inscriptions and drawings, the cube did not merely receive; it disseminated info onto the external bandwidth of mass media and the grapevine. The Internet was just beginning to spread in Kyiv, accompanied by the screech of low-speed modems. Social networks did not yet exist; perhaps that is why people hadn't yet lost the habit of communicating by writing texts on walls, doors, and other objects.

Thus, three properties of the cube were defined: Provocateur, Communicator, and Archivist.

If, for example, the cube was painted pure white, it functioned as an open-access 3D notepad for communication. Red, naturally, provoked people—especially those of the Christian faith. Several articles were published, such as SATAN'S ALTAR ON THE HOLY MOUNTAINS. The article concluded with the phrase: "The Satanic 'altars' are ready. Whose blood will be spilled upon them? A dog’s or a human’s?" Or, at the end of an article titled What Devilry is This!, one could read: "The Satanist despises the crowd of gray philistines, mediocrities capable only of dully consuming the chewing gum supplied to them by the media. The Satanist possesses no herd instinct. He rejects Christian moral principles. He is an anti-Christian."

Another legend was invented when the cube, set against a pink background, was strewn with red hearts. I didn't save the newspaper, but in brief, it went like this: "Once, a castle stood on this mountain, and the Princess, in secret from her husband, would meet her lover at the cliff’s edge. One day, the Prince tracked his wife and saw them kissing and embracing. Consumed by jealousy, he shoved them off the mountain with a running start; they fell and perished. And now, the Lovers' Cube has been installed in their memory." And so on.

We were, of course, aware of the existence of "public art" in the world—a practice not yet established here at the time. However, in our case, the object to this day generates interactions and reflections completely distinct from commissioned, formal displays in public spaces. It acts as a "romantic magnet," continuing to propagate all manner of fables to this very day.

To be continued ... >>>

Konovalov I