Sasha Slepchuk was born and raised in Yekaterinburg, Russia. She has been living and working in Cyprus since 2016.

Her practice focuses on states of transition: memory, loss, transformation, and the fragility of human experience. Her works explore processes of rebirth, where change intertwines with emotion, personal experience, overcoming limits, and openness to the new, reflecting on how transformation shapes our perception of the world and ourselves.

She studied graphics and animation and holds a Specialist Diploma from the Ural State Academy of Architecture and Arts (2007–2013). Although her career began in animation, Sasha is a multidisciplinary artist working with painting, collage, glass, and ceramics, creating complex, layered pieces.

In my practice, I return to the finitude of human existence, to death and non-being as inevitable conditions of life. I am interested in approaching these states not through fear or anxiety, but through curiosity and awe: the exhilaration of coming close to oblivion, of remaining beside this unknown, sharing a room with infinity without explaining it or bringing the question to a close.

For me, making work is a way of returning, again and again, to the present through thoughts of death and its inevitability. Paradoxically, these thoughts bring me back to the sensation of being alive, to the beauty of life, and to the profound freedom that can come from the meaninglessness of existence.

My choice of medium is often intuitive and develops alongside the idea itself. The same image may move from drawing into glass, an object, animation, movement, or sound while retaining its essence. I do not try to provide answers or lead the viewer toward a particular conclusion. What matters to me is shifting attention toward what usually remains outside the everyday field of vision: non-being, the immense stretches of time before and after us, and the brief moment within which an enormous inner space unfolds – a space into which I invite the viewer. I create a place where one can pause and encounter this sense of awe. What it becomes for each person – fear, longing, beauty, or an intensified sense of one’s own presence – remains open.

I approach these contradictions as questions I may never be able to resolve. I know I will not find a final answer to what life, death, and non-being are, yet I continue trying to come closer to them. The search itself becomes, for me, a way of living.