Nika Nuova - Art in the Traces of Memory
- ARTISTIC HUB MAGAZINE
- Mar 27
- 6 min read
MILAN | ITALY
The past never rests. It lingers in objects, in the wear of materials, in fabrics that remember touch. Nika Nuova doesn’t create from nothing. She discovers, assembles, listens to the stories materials hold and shapes them into works that pulse with time. Her art isn’t about form alone. It’s a layered composition where emotions and history intertwine.
From industrial design to artistic installations, her journey has been about breaking free from function in favor of expression. Her works are not passive objects but meeting points of past and present, rough and delicate, raw material and quiet emotion. By repurposing not just textiles but memories, she raises a question: how many past lives can fit into a single work of art?
In this conversation, she reveals how she selects materials, why form and feeling must remain inseparable and how her art explores femininity and the passage of time that shapes us.
Your artistic journey started in the world of fashion and industrial design, but over time, you fully dedicated yourself to textiles and the creation of unique artworks. What was the turning point in that transition, and in what ways has your background in design shaped your approach to art today?
Design is also art as well, but it’s subject to certain industrial rules, here it is important to consider the cost of production, for example. You are not as free in your expression. I used to enjoy arguing with the environment to achieve certain forms in products, and to bring them to people in their homes. But gradually I became interested in moving away from everyday objects. That's how my first installation came about – wings created out of plates, it was very decorative.
Besides, I already had a feeling that I should move in this direction, that I had stories to tell, to create something whole out of pieces of memories. The large amount of material that I had left from different periods of my life also kept me busy. I wanted to give them a second life. This is how my path as a textile artist began. In general, at the beginning of my journey I used only materials with a story. It was an important part of my work, I used one story to weave another. Everything came together in textiles: the ornament itself is a story, my contact with this material is another story. Different colors of fabric are a given, you can't mix them, you can't dilute them, they already set a certain tone and emotion, they carry certain information. Working with all the given notions I create a new notion.
And it seems to me that this makes my task more complicated on the one hand, but on the other hand, it brings it closer to the realities of life. This is exactly how we live our lives, encountering someone else's ideas and thoughts and giving them new meanings.
Working with recycled materials often involves objects imbued with personal histories, from family garments to newspaper clippings. How do you choose your materials, and to what extent do the stories they carry influence the final outcome of your work?
I like materials that already have a history, they carry additional meanings, illuminate the work from new angles. And the viewer can see all of this in my work if he or she wishes. For example, consider vintage materials that silently tell their own story within the framework of mine.
I generally like the aesthetics of old fabrics very much. But they demand a new reading. Such a peculiar musical cover. Old things take on new meanings and sounds, and we can see this layering. Small pieces of vintage fabric give an unusual new sound to the modern work, like classical instruments, emphasizing the concept even more.
The piece Anxious Joy explores the complexity of emotions, blending childlike happiness with the weight of adult responsibilities. How do you translate emotions into textiles, and in what way do texture and color help convey them?
For me personally, textile equals emotion. Mankind has accumulated so many patterns in textiles, so many textures that project an immediate emotion right away. It's like the taste of a certain product, it's already there, we can only experiment and highlight that taste.
Anxious Joy combines so many pieces of my history that are dear to me, the whole work is imbued with them. There are parts of my grandmother's dresses with amazing ornaments from the 40s. It's hard to see such ornaments in new materials nowadays. There are also elements of my dresses, and they are also presented in fabric patterns that are hard to come by now. This gave me additional colors and possibilities to convey the emotion that was important for me to show.
While textiles remain your primary medium, you have also experimented with other materials and techniques. What drives you to explore beyond textiles, and how do you decide which medium best expresses a particular idea?
For me, it's a matter of continuous search. I certainly like textiles as my main material, they are my colors, my language. But today there is such a variety of possibilities. I don't think I need to limit myself. I study, I listen to myself, I try new things, I see how it sounds to me, how it is perceived by the viewer. It's like choosing ingredients, it all depends on what we want to get at the end.
Art, in your view, cannot be strictly categorized as male or female, yet femininity is consciously expressed in your work. How does this dimension manifest in your pieces, and what role does it play in your artistic expression?
Oh, this is my favorite topic. It has a certain duality and a double message: it is shouted about a lot and loudly, but at the same time it is not very appropriate to talk about it.
I think women and men have different perceptions of the world. Not in general, it's about the details of aesthetics, what each of us pay attention to. For example, what women emphasize and what is important to us, men often overlook and downplay the importance of it, and it is devalued by the society further down the line. It turns out that to be important and meaningful you have to accept men's rules of the game. I don't agree with that. Looking ahead, I will say that I am working on a project that will illustrate this idea very precisely. I hope that in the future humanity will discuss this topic without unnecessary nervousness, but with interest. Now not even all my girlfriends agree to this, in a safe space, because still, there is a feeling of walking on the edge.
A strong visual impact and a compelling idea are both essential in your work. How do you achieve a balance between aesthetics and concept, and has maintaining this equilibrium been a challenge throughout your artistic evolution?
The idea is certainly important. But for me personally, aesthetic is essential. It seems to me that today the art world is tired of pure concept. Anti-aesthetic has been popular for a long time, and our eyes have gotten a bit tired. Aesthetics can be different, but it has to be there. We are gradually returning to works that you can look at, that you want to look at and not turn away from.
And the most interesting thing is that again nature becomes a source of inspiration for this aesthetic. Of course, the work should tell something, communicate with the viewers. The conceptual part has not disappeared. Photography hides the moment, design subordinates aesthetic to everyday life. Art is distinguished by this fragile communication that touches the deepest layers. It is an internal dialog, perhaps an argument, perhaps a complete acceptance, but it is not a form subordinated to industry, regardless of the instrument of expression.
Dedication and discipline define your creative process, as you actively cultivate inspiration rather than waiting for it. How do you envision the future of your practice, and are there new themes, techniques, or materials you are eager to explore?
At some point in life, a person returns to their childhood, to their youth, or in other words, revisits a lot of things that have already passed. At least, that's how it seems to me. I am grateful that I have had many different experiences in design, and in life overall. And now is the time to explore again with a new angle the topics that interested me before, such as women's issues, or life in general, which we live in so many different ways. And to translate these thoughts and experiences into my art with new meanings.
Nika Nuova’s work is never still. It shifts with time, with light, with the gaze of the observer. Her pieces do not demand attention with instant impact. They invite it, drawing us in, allowing us to find ourselves within them.
Her precision in material choice, her boldness in exploration and her unwavering commitment to aesthetics make her an artist who refuses compromise. In an age of speed and surface, she reminds us that art requires patience, that traces matter and that materials, like people, carry stories worth hearing.