Never lose the joy. Art isn’t something you choose — it’s something you must do. The best artists live the longest, not because of genetics, but because their work keeps them connected to the pulse of life. Hold on to that feeling.
As a part of our series about “5 Things I Wish Someone Told Me When I First Became An Artist” I had the pleasure of interviewing Maria Gvardeitseva.
Maria Gvardeitseva is a London-based multimedia artist who explores themes of identity, memory, and the female experience. Transitioning from a successful career in other fields, she has established herself in the art world with exhibitions that challenge conventional perspectives and invite introspection through immersive installations, video, performance, and sculpture. Gvardeitseva has showcased her work in solo and group exhibitions across the UK, Latvia, France, and Italy, and was a finalist in the national selection for the Belarusian Pavilion at the 59th Venice Biennale in 2022.
Thank you so much for doing this with us! Can you tell us the story of how you grew up?
My childhood was shaped by significant transitions. Having been born in the Soviet Union, my earliest memories are rooted in that era. When the Soviet Union collapsed, I found myself in a completely new world, witnessing perestroika and Belarus’s independence. The Chinese saying, “May we live in interesting times,” perfectly describes my childhood.
Since I was five years old, I’ve always wanted to be an artist. I remember insisting to my parents that they submit my application to an art lycée after seeing my neighbour apply. However, at that age, children were expected to have some basic drawing skills, which I lacked. Because of this, I wasn’t accepted, and even though I felt devastated, my passion for art never faded.
I kept drawing and dreaming of becoming an artist. At 15, I began studying in an art studio, and at 17, I received a scholarship to the Wrocław Academy of Fine Arts. However, I chose not to pursue art professionally, as I couldn’t see a clear path to financial stability.
Can you share a story with us about what brought you to this specific career path?
As I mentioned earlier, I decided not to pursue a career as an artist when I was 17. At that time — and throughout my life — I had two main passions: art and writing. I loved working with words. By then, I had already published a book of short stories, so it felt natural to pursue a different creative path — focusing on journalism, and PR. I chose PR and built a successful 16-year career in the field.
Then, eight years ago, everything changed. I attended the Venice Biennale for the first time, and the experience was transformative. The moment I entered the Biennale, I felt like I had come home — to myself and my true calling. I had only one question: Why am I doing anything other than art?
It was a profound realization. I immediately understood everything around me, as if no explanations were necessary — I simply belonged. That moment sparked my return to art. Just two months after returning from Venice, I held my first solo exhibition and created my first installation. Everything unfolded quickly from there. I closed my PR business and fully devoted myself to being an artist.
Can you tell us the most interesting story that happened to you since you began your career?
In 2021, I participated in a national selection process to represent Belarus at the Venice Biennale. Although I had only been actively practising as an artist for a few years, I pushed forward and became a finalist with a nomination in place. Plans were already in motion for my participation in Venice.
Unexpectedly, however, I learned that my nomination had been revoked due to political reasons. Around the same time, I had an exhibition running at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Minsk, which focused on themes of isolation, COVID-19, and knitting as a method of self-reflection. Just like my nomination, the exhibition was also shut down for political reasons.
This has been one of the most striking and defining moments of my career — a story that not only reflects the challenges I’ve faced but also the harsh realities of working in a politically charged environment.
What are some of the most interesting or exciting projects you are working on now?
I am currently preparing for the publication of my book, Five Minutes Bedtime Stories, with the Italian publishing house Skira. Available for pre-order, it is set to be released in the coming months. This project blends storytelling and visual art, intertwining my fairy tales with my illustrations.
The book is a deeply personal reflection on breakups and divorces. It features 12 fairy tales based on real stories of women from diverse backgrounds. Having gone through a divorce myself, I wanted to explore how different women experience and navigate this life change. While traditional fairy tales end with “happily ever after,” few address the emotional process of separation — despite divorce being a common reality, as seen in Eurostat’s 2022 data.
To accompany the book’s release, I am planning performances in Milan, London, and New York, bringing its themes to life through live artistic experiences. I am incredibly excited about this project, as it continues my artistic exploration of gender, identity, and power dynamics.
Beyond this, I am constantly working on various exhibitions and travelling across Europe to showcase my work.
Who are some of the most interesting people you have interacted with? What was that like? Do you have any stories?
I’ve had the honour of befriending Elena Kostyukovich, a renowned writer and translator best known for bringing Umberto Eco’s works from Italian to Russian. She is also the author of Food: Italian Happiness, a book officially associated with Expo 2015 in Milan.
One of the most profound pieces of advice she gave me was that we shouldn’t fear complexity. In fact, people often define each other through the challenges they’ve faced — whether through reading intricate texts, navigating difficult life situations, or interpreting complex art. This perspective has deeply influenced me, teaching me to embrace complexity rather than shy away from it.
Where do you draw inspiration from? Can you share a story about that?
Inspiration, for me, comes from everything in my life. Any element of my daily experiences can spark creative energy. I believe one of the most essential qualities of an artist — and the essence of artistic practice itself — is the ability to observe and trace connections between seemingly unrelated things.
I’m fascinated by how life unfolds, revealing unexpected, paradoxical links between concepts, objects, and people that initially seem disconnected. These observations are at the heart of my artistic process.
This can happen anywhere — on the street, in conversations, or through reading. When something intrigues me, I go deeper, researching, reading, and speaking with people to expand my understanding. Over time, these intellectual and emotional connections evolve into visual ideas. More often than not, these images come to me on their own — persistent, almost demanding to be realised — until I bring them to life through my work.
How have you used your success to bring goodness to the world?
I don’t see myself at the pinnacle of success in the art world yet, but I believe artistic practice is inherently political — and that must be acknowledged. Art remains one of the last strongholds of freedom in an increasingly structured, matrix-like world. As an artist, I feel a responsibility to highlight critical social issues, bring attention to them, and engage people in meaningful conversations.
Coming from Belarus, my Eastern European background deeply shapes my work. Almost everything I create carries a political dimension, addressing the struggles of Belarusians, the challenges women face, and societal attitudes toward issues like divorce and feminism. These themes aren’t just personal; they reflect larger systemic realities.
Art has the power to provoke, question, and inspire change. While I may not yet define myself as ‘successful’ in the traditional sense, if my work sparks thought, encourages dialogue, or gives voice to the unheard, then it is already making an impact.
What are your ‘5 Things I Wish Someone Told Me When I First Started’ and why?
1. Time in art is nonlinear. Unlike in business, success in the art world has no clear trajectory — it can take years, even decades. There’s no rushing it, no fixed formula. The only thing that matters is to keep going.
2. Forget shame. Knock on doors. No one will open doors for you unless you make yourself heard. Stay quiet, and you risk becoming a good but forgotten artist.
3. Follow your instincts, not trends. The market shifts, but your passion should stay constant. Don’t chase demand — create what gives you butterflies in your stomach.
4. Find your people. Art can be incredibly lonely. Surround yourself with fellow artists, curators, and peers who understand and support your practice. You’ll need them when the hard days come.
5. Never lose the joy. Art isn’t something you choose — it’s something you must do. The best artists live the longest, not because of genetics, but because their work keeps them connected to the pulse of life. Hold on to that feeling.
You are a person of great influence. If you could inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the most amount of people, what would that be?
If I had significant influence in this world, I would create my party — or perhaps even a church: “The Party of Hedonism”. And I have a feeling it could become the most popular movement on the planet, surpassing conservative, liberal, and green parties alike.
We live in systems designed to keep us in predefined structures, making us tick boxes and follow expected behaviours. In the process, we lose connection with ourselves, a higher source, and the simple joy of existence.
But what if we remembered why we are here? We are not just here to work, produce, and conform — we are here to experience pleasure, embrace joy, and feel the beauty of life. That, I believe, is our most fundamental purpose.
If I had the power to start a movement, it would prioritize pleasure as a path to peace. Through joy, we could break free from the structures that confine us. A world where people are truly happy is a world that no longer seeks destruction.
We have been blessed that some of the biggest names in business, VC funding, sports, and entertainment read this column. Is there a person in the world, or in the U.S., whom you would love to have a private breakfast or lunch with, and why?
I think it would be Martha Stewart. She is a woman I deeply admire — not just a brilliant businesswoman but the architect of an entire empire. She has faced challenges, made mistakes, fallen, and risen again. Like me, she is a migrant and “never quite belonged.” Yet, she created something extraordinary — a world of her own, centered around home, lifestyle, and the art of living. I truly respect the scale of what she has built and how her vision has shaped an entire industry.
What is the best way our readers can follow you on social media?
You can follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn and my website https://mariagvardeitseva.com/.
This was very inspiring. Thank you so much for joining us!
Maria Gvardeitseva: 5 Things I Wish Someone Told Me When I First Became An Artist was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.