Anastasia Pilepchuk

Art

Anastasia Pilepchuk

8 June 2026

Art

Anastasia Pilepchuk

8 June 2026

Q: Every mask begins somewhere: a material, a feeling, an image. Where does yours begin?

A: My masks begin with an intention, but never with a fixed shape. I’m drawn to the wavering feeling of anticipation, that moment before something fully appears. Once I plant the seed of an idea, the ritual of making begins. The process slowly reveals the form through repetition, attention, and interaction with the material.

Q: You make everything by hand, slowly, layer by layer. Does the time scare you or set you free? And how long does one mask take?

A: Time doesn’t scare me at all. My practice is actually about slowing down. Today it’s becoming harder and harder to focus, observe, and create with intention. The world feels increasingly fast, overheated, and overstimulated. I try not to enter that race. Instead, I work softly, thoughtfully, and slowly.

I think the viewer can feel this. People stop, look closely at the details, and sense the amount of time and care embedded in the work. The duration of each mask varies, but they all carry accumulated attention.

"Time doesn’t scare me at all. My practice is actually about slowing down. Today it’s becoming harder and harder to focus, observe, and create with intention."

Q: You work with ceramics, plaster, metal and deliberately avoid 3D printing and AI. What does the human hand do to a material that a machine cannot?

A: There are artworks that completely hypnotize you. You stand still in front of them and can’t do anything except look. I’ve never experienced that feeling with work made by a machine.

A machine can replicate form, but it cannot transfer presence. It cannot leave behind tension, tenderness, obsession, care. It cannot whisper to the material or create that perfect imperfection that makes an object feel alive.

Image: Igor Pavlov

Q: You came to Berlin and stayed. What does this city give artists that other cities don’t and what is it still missing?

A: I don’t have a huge amount of experience living in other cities, but I love Berlin for its awkwardness and openness. It feels like anyone can find a place for themselves in this forest of people and ideas, as long as they don’t get lost while searching for it.

At the same time, I often meet people here who seem disconnected or overwhelmed, wandering through the city with burned-out eyes, pulled in too many directions at once without choosing one. Berlin gives freedom, but it can also amplify uncertainty.

Q: Are there any particular places in Berlin you love going to for art, food, entertainment, exercise, or learning something new?

A: Nature replaces most forms of entertainment for me. I would choose a walk by the canal over a croissant in an expensive café any day. My version of exercise is running at night under the stars.

As for art, Berlin has so many incredible galleries and artists that it’s hard to choose specific places. Usually, I go to see a particular artist rather than a gallery itself.