Andrey Moss 

Sorry, but I will never tire of repeating that the roots of every one of my works grow from books, with rare exceptions, and usually I try to express myself in my own words once the work is finished, but not in the case of my latest project, titled Wanda. In addition to the main source of this project, namely Venus in Furs by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, this time I decided to give the floor only and directly to the images and poetry that accompanied me at that moment. Not because I had nothing to say, but simply because whatever I write will pale in comparison to my own source of inspiration. After all, for each of the images in this work, even at the stage of their preparation and before they were taken, I chose certain lines.. lines from my most and probably only favorite volume of poetry -

Agreement between Mme. von Dunajew and Severin von Kusiemski.

Severin von Kusiemski ceases with the present day being the affianced of Mme. Wanda von Dunajew, and renounces all the rights appertaining thereunto; he on the contrary binds himself on his word of honor as a man and nobleman, that hereafter he will be her slave until such time that she herself sets him at liberty again.

Alas, poor Muse, what ails you so today?

Your hollow eyes with midnight visions burn,

And turn about, in your complexion play

Madness and horror, cold and taciturn.

Green succubus and rosy imp - have they

Poured you both fear and love into one glass?

An attentive viewer may notice a certain consistency between my two most recent works, and they will not be deceived. They will notice the subtle connection between these two completely different historical periods, characters, and stories, which was intentionally created. This connection between humans and divine providence captures the moment when a person, most often a woman, unites with their divine essence, becoming a chosen one, a weapon of God, to administer justice, whether in the form of a marble ancient Greek goddess or blindly following divine voices. It is always interesting how we, as men, use female images to punish ourselves for our consumerist and other attitudes. Perhaps this is why, unsurprisingly, the goddess of justice has a female form. It is hard to believe that this was a random mockery of the male gender. Perhaps we want to see judges in female guises, imagining them as our mothers, but such thoughts lead us to completely different areas..

In my two most recent works, I have placed a special emphasis on justice in a female form. Whether it is about the independence and freedom of an entire nation or the triumph of vengeance and honesty in the case of a single soul. In this context, I have had the courage to contrast divine providence with pagan mockery. However, I am merely continuing a concept that was established during my second collection eleven years ago and remains relevant today. This concept, inspired by

The infinitely long, incredibly frosty and immeasurably snowy winter has finally given way to spring light. And after five months spent in the company of impenetrable darkness and loneliness, my studio, or rather monastic cell, was finally filled with this hopeful light. For me, returning here is comparable to recovering from a seemingly incurable disease.

After I was forced to suspend my work last September, I decided not to immerse myself in pity and sadness, but to devote this time to restoring not only my mental health, but also to repairing my own house, so it's not surprising that because of my meticulousness and tediousness, this process dragged on for such a long time.

Cloisters in former times portrayed on their high walls

The truths of Holy Writ with fitting pictures

Which gladdened pious hearts and lessened the coldness,

The austere appearance, of those monasteries.

In those days the sowing of Christ’s Gospel flourished,

Muse of my heart, of palaces the lover,

Where will you, when the blast of winter blows

In the black boredom of snowed lights, discover

A glowing brand to warm your violet toes?

How will you there revive your marbled skin

At the chill rays your shutters then disperse?

Sanctified by the flickering candlelight of Baudelaire's poetry, this year is suddenly coming to an end, dedicated to a woman who once appeared as a white-stone goddess, and when she left, she brought to her knees a pitiful mortal who believed that a woman was just a patent for satisfying his carnal beliefs.. This year is suddenly coming to an end, unfortunately giving way to a more violent one, to the nervous and alcohol-soaked sounds of Poe's prose. There is no more birdsong or candle crackling here, everything is quiet in anticipation of the murder. We are no longer in a cozy and hidden room.. everything here exclaims only one word - revenge..

- Edgar Allan Poe

If you haven't seen Robert Eggers' very first film, today is the perfect day to do so. Besides, this film is straight from the moodboard of my next project..