belrus
  • 2024
  • 2023
  • 2022
  • 2021
  • 2020
  • 2019
  • 2018
  • 2017
  • 2016
  • 2015
  • 2014
  • 2013
  • 2012
  • 2011
  • 2010
  • 2009
  • 2008
  • 2007
  • 2006
  • 2005
  • 2004
  • 2003
  • 2002
  • 2001
  • 2000
  • 1999
  • 1998
  • 1997
  • 1996
  • 1995
  • 1994
  • 1993
  • 1992
  • 1991
  • 1990
  • 1989
  • 1988
  • 1987
  • 1986
  • 1985
  • 1982
  • 1977
  • 1976
  • 1974
  • 1972
  • 1971
  • 1970
  • 1969
  • 1962
  • 1960
  • 1958
  • 1956
  • 1954
  • 1953
  • 1952
  • 1937
  • 1932
  • 1930
  • 1927
  • 1925
  • 1921
  • 1920
  • 1919
  • 1912
  • 1891

2024

2023

2022

2021

2020

2019

2018

2017

2016

2015

2014

2013

2012

2011

2010

2009

2008

2007

2006

2005

2004

2003

2002

2001

2000

1999

1998

1997

1996

1995

1994

1993

1992

1991

1990

1989

1988

1987

1986

1985

1982

1977

1976

1974

1972

1971

1970

1969

1962

1960

1958

1956

1954

1953

1952

1937

1932

1930

1927

1925

1921

1920

1919

1912

1891

eng Translation Pending Review

Giants

Ilya Sprindzhuk 2022 – 2023
Sculptures. Plaster, old bedding, branches from Vitsula river.~320 cm high each figure

Articles on KALEKTAR

Giants is a series of sculptures made from old bed linen soaked in gypsum and fallen branches collected along the Vistula River and the Polish-Belarusian border. Fabric associated with sleep and the body, and branches carrying traces of the landscape, reflect themes of memory and transition.

Monumental yet hollow, the works are sarcophagi without fixed form. They invite touch, but inside they remain open — spaces waiting to be filled with new stories or memories. Over time, each piece decays and slowly settles back into the landscape that shaped its material presence.

The project reflects on cultural memory and political erasure — on moments when biography, language, or origin are suppressed. These sculptures are containers, not portraits. They resist the finality of gravestones, which signal that a return is no longer possible, and instead remain open to what might still come back. Giants refuse to be forgotten: even as they decay, they endure as traces, keeping the space between past and present open. It is not their emptiness that invites return, but the persistence of their form — an open structure able to hold any story, personal or collective.

This process reflects my interest in how memory survives erasure: not as a fixed monument, but as a fragile, living imprint that can be reclaimed and reimagined across time.