Venera Kazarova (www.venerakazarova.art) is a contemporary artist whose practice merges costume design, performance, and visual art into a singular, immersive form of expression. With roots in traditional costume design, she reimagines garments as medium for storytelling and emotional resonance, using them less as functional attire and more as sculptural, performative tools. Her interdisciplinary work draws from psychology, nature, and dreamscapes—creating artworks that blur the lines between fantasy and reality, art and life. In this interview, .ART explores Venera Kazarova’s vision of costume as a language, her pursuit of beauty in contemporary art, and the power of performance.

DK: Can you tell us how your journey as an artist began? What first drew you to costume design, and how did that evolve into performance and visual art?

VK: It’s hard for me to say exactly what drew me to it — working with costumes and becoming a clothing designer was never really a choice; it was a calling.   

Since childhood, I was fanatically obsessed with sewing (and I’m not exaggerating), embroidering, and drawing. I genuinely couldn’t understand why I had to go to school or do anything else in life when all I wanted was to sew. I can say that nothing has really changed — it’s still the same for me. Why? I don’t know — it has just always been that way. However, over time I began to feel that a costume, for me, is not only something that can be worn, and not just a form — it’s an artistic statement.

At some point, working solely with shape and texture was no longer enough. I felt a deep inner need to express emotions and tell short stories — while still staying within the same field: costume.

DK: How would you describe your practice today? What roles do costume, performance, and visual storytelling play within your artistic identity?

VK: My artistic practice today lies at the intersection of costume, performance, and visual storytelling, that is exactly what defines my artistic identity at this moment.  

DK: What does a typical creative process look like for you — from idea to realisation? Do you begin with a concept, a material, a dream? 

VK: Usually, everything begins with an emotion I’ve experienced. Any emotion I feel — fear, anxiety, excitement, tenderness — immediately takes on a visual form in my mind. Whatever I go through ends up being reflected in a visual-performative shape.
 I make quick sketches in my notebook, often accompanied by short notes or phrases, and later I bring them to life.

DK: You’ve mentioned that your costumes began to “speak” to you, evolving into stories and concepts. Could you elaborate on this transformation and how it influenced your shift from traditional costume design to performance art?

VK: At some point, I began to feel that the costumes I was creating carried more than just aesthetic value. I realized that they held conceptual potential — a capacity to convey meaning. Uncovering this potential marked the beginning of my transition into performative practice, as well as into stop-motion filmmaking. 

DK: Many of your costumes are crafted from paper and exist solely for a single photoshoot. How does this intentional impermanence influence your creative process and the narratives you aim to convey? 

VK: Paper is fragile, impractical, and completely impermanent. I’m drawn to this sense of fragility that paper-based objects carry. For me, they are a clear proof that fragility can exist in this world — and that it has value. 

DK: Dreams and the subconscious play significant roles in your work. How do you translate these intangible experiences into tangible visual forms, and what is their significance in your storytelling?

VK: Subconsciousness and dreaming are very important to me — firstly, because these motifs were extensively explored by the Surrealists, and in a way, I consider myself their follower. Secondly, because dreams possess incredible imagery and metaphorical power. It’s simply amazing how they convey events or feelings, how reality gets turned inside out in  them, balancing on the edge of delirium. 

DK: Flowers frequently appear in your work. Could you discuss the personal and artistic significance of floral motifs in your creations?

VK: The flower is a metaphor for strength and beauty — after all, they can grow even through asphalt. For me, it’s a kind of constant of beauty in a world full of violence and chaos. 

DK: You aim to “rehabilitate beauty” in contemporary art, challenging the notion that beauty lacks depth. How do you balance aesthetic appeal with conceptual richness in your work?VK: I don’t know if there is a real balance here or how successful I am at achieving it — I simply create what I personally feel the need to create. That balance is not the goal in itself. 

DK: Your use of materials like paper, plastic utensils, and vintage items is distinctive. What draws you to these materials, and how do they contribute to the narratives within your performances?

VK: I create my works using whatever is at hand or catches my eye. Sometimes I look at something — like a set of polystyrene eggs — and realize that if I paint them red and make them move, they become my anxiety. And that’s the best material to express it. The choice of material is always intuitive, and it’s usually something simple. I like to speak about complex things in simple ways. 

DK: You’ve chosen to locate your online presence within the .ART domain — a decision that not all artists make. What drew you to this choice, and how do you see your digital presence as part of your overall artistic identity?

VK: When it was time to create a new site, I couldn’t think of anything else except .ART.