2 August 2023 For the regime in Russia she is a foreign agent, for the West an activist artist. Although Victoria Lomasko abhors that description. Together with five other female illustrators, the Russian is part of an exhibition at the Brussels Comic Strip Museum and a Canvas documentary.
With a suitcase and Dwarf, her cat, Victoria Lomasko (44) fled her homeland in March last year. To the Russian government, it seemed like she was making a foreign trip, but she knew better: this was a flight.
Reasons too much. Since she walked along in a protest march in 2012 and recorded how people felt as an artist, she has spoken out more and more clearly about the regime. “That year, police launched a brutal provocation in it and attacks on political opponents also increased.”
“Even at the time of the pandemic, I lived with permanent anxiety. The border was closed, and without Western vaccines we couldn't travel to Western countries anyway. At the same time, the regime increasingly enacted new laws and civilians were arrested more frequently. I saw lives destroyed. Not a day went by but I asked myself the question: 'When is it my turn?'”
With the help of the Brussels production house Clin d'Oeil Films, she mapped out her journey through Kyrgyzstan, Istanbul and Paris to finally arrive in Brussels. There Clin d'Oeuil would follow her two years for the six-part doc Draw for Change.
ACTIVISM?
Armed with ink and pencils, she showcases the small dark sides of society that Russia likes to hide from the rest of the world. She sought her interlocutors in all walks of life. From godly old women, young skinheads, sex workers, people in detention camps, persecuted and/or scared LGBTQ people to striking truck drivers.
She comes on her way when the terms 'artist-activist' and 'graphic journalist' fall. 'I took some journalism courses and thought for a moment that I was a 'graphic journalist' like Joe Sacco, but have too much respect for that profession to describe me that way,' she begins. But while learning to appreciate that description in the meantime, she can't help but 'completely disagree' with the term 'artist-activist'.
“Being an activist means being part of a community, a kind of subculture. However, an artist must be completely independent, no one can impose 'right' and 'progressive' ideas on an artist. You know, when the war started, activists had the idea of either just telling about Ukraine, Putin's plans or how we would like to see his Russia converging. But I am an artist who sees ordinary people survive in difficult circumstances: poverty, discrimination, war, dictatorship, sanctions, ...”
CONFLICT OF GENERATIONS
On social media she was therefore at odds with activists who felt that she could no longer show her work 'because I am Russian'. She blows. “Those people are crazy. Art is always above policy, real art is not an illustration of political news from today's newspaper. When I create, I think how the public can feel the work after five, ten, twenty, a hundred years.”
Today's Russia describes them as a conflict of generations. “On the one hand, there are the people who grew up with the Soviet trauma; completely isolated, convinced that the causes of their economic and personal circumstances are due to the West. On the other hand, a critical generation lives that is ashamed of the war but doesn't know what to do.”
She also says that before the war, most of the Russians were still apolitical. “Yet believe that everything is going well, even that there is a democracy. Friends of mine also thought I loved drama when I said it was getting too dangerous for me. But I already knew: take one step towards political or social life and you will be beaten, imprisoned or even raped, tortured and murdered. Whether that's going to a meeting, whether you're speaking out against authorities, organizing an LGBTQ festival or protesting against the destruction of a park for the benefit of a client, ...”
RISKY RETURN
In the absence of a visa, her return to Russia becomes riskier every day. She acknowledges that the Russian regime shows just a little less interest in graphic artists 'than for musicians and actors with a large audience.' But now that her books are increasingly being translated, interviews worldwide are increasing and the documentary Draw for Change is about to have its international premiere, it - dixit Lomasko - is becoming more dangerous. 'Because in that documentary I speak a lot about Putin and his regime.'
And there's another thing they won't appreciate in Russia, she says: her imposing painting The changing of seasons in the Brussels GC Nekkersdal, a three by seven-meter work that refers to the well-known Russian monument The Motherland Calls. That honors the heroes of the Stalingrad war, but Lomasko poured a hefty anti-war sauce about her adaptation of it. “I know that right now everyone who returns to Russia is being monitored. A click on Google is enough to see that painting or excerpts from Draw for Change looming. How can I ever go back?”
