It is not very often that Central Asia appears on the cultural map of a world where ethnocentrism, as a universal category, remains the defining characteristic of a dominant ecosystem, whose hegemony still leans toward the West. But given the pluralism that characterizes the art world and the growing recognition that non-Western art has garnered in the global market over the last three decades, inclusivity has become a value due to the desire for discovery. The assertion of identity that corresponds to resilient nationalisms that do not yield to new imperialisms, reinforcing their borders in all hemispheres, has been and continues to be a response to the vulnerability of nation-states in the face of the force of a cultural and political globalization that the market has progressively imposed on every continent.
Language, culture, and identity, and the geographies with which they correspond, play a fundamental role in defining their limits, in the opposite direction to that of economic imperialisms, which have fostered both the expansion of diasporas and migrations and the displacement of centers of interest from east to west and vice versa, or from the global south towards a north that practices a new imperialism and different modes of coloniality associated with power. Saodat Ismailova (Tashkent, 1981) is an Uzbek artist, considered by ART ASIA PACIFIC as one of the six artists of 2025, along with Shilpa Gupta (India), Ayoung Kim (South Korea), Fucking Kim Gala (Colombia/South Korea/USA), Ho Tzu Nyen (Singapore) and Tuan Andrew Nguyen (Vietnam/USA, Joan Miró Prize, 2024). Her presence on the international scene and her artistic practice have earned her this recognition for a contribution that has been matched by numerous awards such as the Art Basel Award which has been awarded to him for his work this year, also as a result of the numerous exhibition projects in which he has participated, the latest of which took place in the Àngels Barcelona gallery, first at the fair LOOP Barcelona (2025) and then on to its street space Pintor Fortuny. Her presence in the city, thanks to this gallery, is what prompts me to write this. The artist closed out last year having participated in fifteen group exhibitions and five solo shows, and she will inaugurate 2026 with her first solo exhibition in the United States, while also preparing the projects she has already confirmed for the coming months.
Saodat Ismailova She belongs to the first generation of post-Soviet artists from Central Asia, which not only provides context for her work but also introduces unavoidable circumstances directly related to her biography. Central Asia is a vast territory that was part of the former USSR (Union of Soviet Socialist Republics) until December 30, 1991, two years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, following the resignation a month earlier of Mikhail Gorbachev, the architect of the USSR's collapse. Gorbachev had implemented perestroika and glasnost between 1985 and 1991 before the Union's dissolution. These policies involved, respectively, the restructuring of the USSR's economic and industrial system to establish a market economy within 500 days and the opening to the West, a process that was to be accompanied by increased transparency in government institutions and the recognition of citizens' rights and freedoms. What some internally interpreted as the collapse of the USSR, and the failure of Gorbachev's policies, led to independence for the fifteen socialist republics that had been part of the Russian colonial empire during the 20th century. From the Baltic and the Mar Negro Extending to the Pacific Ocean, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Estonia, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Latvia, Lithuania, Moldova, Russia, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Ukraine and Uzbekistan constituted the Soviet Union, led from Moscow, through a single administration that was the guarantee of its maintenance until 1991.
I cannot consider the artistic practice of Saodat Ismailova Separated from a history that is not only theirs, their family's, or their country's, but a history we share, or should know we share, from the Cold War to the present day, despite the ignorance or lack of interest still so prevalent in the West regarding this part of the world. Especially since Western postcolonial studies tend to focus on the great European colonial empires and their colonies throughout the centuries. XIX and XX, making an exception for practices associated with colonial power such as that exercised in the USSR for more than a century through the successive governments of Lenin (1917-1924), the architect of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics; Stalin (1924-1953), author of the reign of terror that ended the lives of all those he considered traitors, and still the subject of dramas such as those narrated in the latest film by Olivier Assayas, The Wizard of the Kremlin (2026) or in Two Prosecutors (2025) of Sergei Loznitsa. If Khrushchev (1953-1964) then tried to undertake the de-Stalinization and opening of the USSR to the West, Brezhnev (1964-1982) had to halt the process initiated by his predecessor due to pressure from the opposition, and it was not resumed until Mikhail Gorbachev, in power between 1985 and 1991, made a decisive commitment to reforms in the political and economic spheres, launching an unprecedented liberalization that precipitated the collapse of the USSR.
The Uzbek theorist and feminist Madina TlostanovaTlostanova, a professor of postcolonial feminisms in the Gender Studies department at Linköping University, is an essential figure in the field of Cultural Studies as a researcher of coloniality. She focuses on the globalization of a phenomenon that is not exclusive to Western colonial powers and its persistence in countries such as those in Central Asia, even after their independence. For her, it is necessary to distinguish between postcolonial studies as a product of the Anglo-Saxon world, primarily the history of relations between the British Empire and its colonies, and post-Soviet discourses concerning the disappearance of the USSR, without Russian imperialism having vanished, thus marking, in some way, Russia's relationship with its former colonies. Tlostanova, in turn, differentiates historical colonialism from current global coloniality, insisting on the need to continue questioning the relationship between the post-Soviet, post-communist, post-socialist, and postcolonial eras, and denouncing the exercise of imperialism. (imperiality) which is revealed in the multiple cultural and political paradoxes derived from the post-socialist social transformation.
The extensive mention of Madina Tlostanova Here, crossing his theoretical work with the artistic practice of Saodat IsmailovaThis is due to her significant contribution to understanding a body of work that interprets a world in transformation without renouncing its past, its history and traditions, and that acknowledges the subordination to which it surrendered from the Russian Revolution of 1917 until the independence it achieved in 1991 after the disintegration of the USSR. Tlostanova offers an insightful reading of both the imperial past of the USSR and the subsequent changes in Central Asia, taking into account both the current situation and the circumstances that shape the future of the new nation-states and their respective nationalisms. Postcolonialism and Postsocialism in Fiction and Art: Resistance and Re-existence (2017), as in What Does it Mean to be Post-Soviet? Decolonial Art from the Ruins of the Soviet Empire (2018), and in A new Political Imagination Making the Case (2020), which he wrote with Tony Fry, Tlostanova It analyzes the role of culture in a transforming world held hostage by its past, but at the same time, in which younger generations want to build a future without denying their history.
The interest it arouses Saodat Ismailova This is due in part to his own contribution, not only to interpreting the world he comes from, but also to recovering ancestral traditions as assets or elements of strength for change. The curator Sorin BrutReferring to contemporary Kazakh artists, he points out that they are transforming deeply symbolic national traditions into powerful contemporary expressions of the reconstruction of an erased identity. This, he argues, stems from the fact that Soviet colonization consisted of severing the former Soviet republics from their national past. Russian was the official language and the most effective instrument for exercising the colonizer's power, segregating the peoples over whom it was imposed from their native culture and thus unifying them through the coloniality of language. The phenomenon is characterized by the equivalence between linguistic imperialism and the racialization of the population, whose subalternity is a consequence of the exercise of colonial power since its inception, as evidenced throughout history by Spanish imperialism, Anglo-Saxon imperialism, and all others. Ismailova roots her artistic practice in the exploration of this denied past, both within her family, her country, and the Central Asian region, whose fate she cannot remain detached from. Her narrative begins with what is closest to her, with her immediate experiences and what she has seen or been told, reclaiming tradition as the origin of her stories. These are stories she weaves primarily with moving images and archival footage, intertwining them and making them mirror one another, thus extending the continuity of her work through multiple combinations and intersections of the elements and resources she employs.
The statement I compete with Time which provides coverage of the artist's exhibition in the Galería Àngels Barcelona (from 15.11.25 to 31.01.26) brings together three significant projects, Her Right (2020) 18,000 worlds (2023), y Time's Tail (2025), which maintain a clear connection with each other and with all her work. The expression "competing with time" explicitly questions the physical nature of time, linked to a continuous movement that we cannot stop or avoid. Perhaps one way to respond to time's hijacking of all that exists is to question the complex relationship between I and Time, or I and we and the World, because we are also time, and the human condition cannot be dissociated from duration. I compete with time when I believe I can alter the movement of time, and I compete with time when I incorporate the past into a continuous present. Among the actions that have repercussions on the I-Time relationship, the artist uses the archive and activates it by resignifying it. For her, the archive contains a repository of images that evoke ancestral knowledge and that are essential to consider in order to reclaim the existence of a past closely linked to the memory of a country and a region to which an identity now belongs, an identity that remained erased for almost eight decades of the last century. In the archive, he finds original before-and-during images that reveal what we have been, what we are, and what we want to be. Much of his work is preceded by research in archives he has consulted both in his own country and abroad, particularly in the EYE Museum in Amsterdam, one of the venues where she has exhibited her work. But also of the legacy of her father, a filmmaker and photographer who studied in Moscow and shared his family's interest in cinema. The artist is aware of her predecessor's contribution to the path she has followed from the beginning, articulating archival images with her own captures of landscapes and figures. Film and video share in her work an initiatory experience with the moving image, allowing us to discover in all her constructions how to modulate the rhythms of time and the alternation of landscapes, mirages, scenes, and figures. "I compete with time," he says, "sometimes trying to speed it up, sometimes doing the opposite. Yet time marches on, indifferently making the days disappear."
His work is a permanent duel with time, between two rivers, the Anu Darya, one of the longest rivers in Central Asia (2539 km), whose course crosses Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, until it flows into the Mar of the Aral Sea; and the Syr Darya (2200 km) which runs through Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Kazakhstan, also flowing into the Mar of Aral. The riverbed of these two rivers and their respective tributaries blends seamlessly with the passage of time and the impact of the flow on the surrounding environment. In her work, the artist makes us see both the need to recover or retain the past and to consider the future made possible by the gravitational force of its characteristic movement. As can be seen in works such as Her RightThe sum of archival images, still or moving, alone engenders a narrative that adheres to the montage of sequences captured or retrieved from her own or others' archives. The montage is often equivalent to a fluid writing of landscapes and figures that alternate like detached poems, more akin to fragments that break the rigid structure of the paragraph than to linear writing, despite the circularity it fosters in her narrative. But her origins have also left, and continue to leave, their influence, linking the relationship she claims to have with time to the spatial dimension she identifies with the place and places of a personal geography where her life has unfolded thus far. Her Right It incorporates numerous images of the women of her country, which she recovers to make them exist against the erasure of those cultures that have been denied in the navel of the world.
This work is directly related to Her Five Lives (2022), 13', continuing the themes of gender, whose importance she does not question, but rather, on the contrary, projects throughout her work. Covering a period of her country's history from 1925 to 2015, the five chapters or parts into which this work is structured reconstruct the history of women in this region of the world known as Central Asia.They are a victim of patriarchy (1925-1936), A Machine of Communism (1940-1960), A Thawed Womanhood (1960-1985), A Perestroika Libertine (1985-1995) y A Confused Independent (1996-2015). The historical periods invoked to identify a type or model of woman are related to eras and lifestyles in which she is represented. Whether or not they coincide successively with the governments of Lenin, Stalin, Khrushchev, Leonid Brezhnev, and Mikhail Gorbachev, the artist adopts woman as the protagonist and heroine of a developing society, whose subordination has not ceased, even when her incorporation into working life as a workforce equivalent to that of men was interpreted at the time as a symbol of the USSR's modernity and the country's industrial development, as well as a sign of gender equality, when in reality she was yet another victim of the political power that Russia exercised over its respective republics. Saodat Ismailova, however, does not stop in 1991, but goes through another twenty-five years of the history of a seemingly free woman, asking what has happened since independence, during the process of nation-state building in the countries of Central Asia, and how the condition of a violated and vulnerable woman has improved, whose identity she believes must remain linked to her past, because she needs to have her own history that belongs to her and that she must value.
In fact, denouncing gender-based violence is a recurring theme in Uzbek and other Central Asian cinema for some filmmakers, both men and women, who, in the process of nation-building, consider it essential to end abuse, harassment, forced marriages, and inequality. This also applies to the situation of migrant women who face multiple challenges stemming from physical violence, labor exploitation, and human trafficking. The Kazakh director Sergei Dvortsevoy, after the ten years of silence following the success of tulpan (2008), carried out ayka (2018), a very different film in which she sought to give visibility to this migrant woman through the figure of a Kyrgyz mother who emigrates to Moscow while pregnant. After giving birth in a Russian hospital, she abandons her newborn son and flees unseen in search of work to pay off her debts to the loan sharks who pursue her wherever she goes. With nowhere to take refuge in a cold, hostile, snow-covered city, facing loneliness, silence, and powerlessness, her survival is threatened, and the victim finds no way out of her situation. A heartbreaking portrait of a universal woman whose story transcends the urban landscapes where it unfolds, as seen in other productions from the region that break the silence surrounding the subjugation of women, such as Madina (2023) by the Kazakh director Aizhan Kassymbek, Bride Kidnapping (2024) by the Kyrgyz director Mirla Abdykalylov, rehearsal y Unhappy Groom (2023 by the Uzbek director) Khusnora KuzmatovaAlong the same lines, Happiness (2022) from Kazakh Askar Uzabaez It deserves special attention for the way it addresses sexual and domestic violence, and how this violence is passed down from parents to children, in a chilling tale where happiness is merely the name of a cosmetics line sold by its protagonist, a successful influencer who, in her private life, is a victim of the abuse and chronic mistreatment of an alcoholic husband. For its director, it is a film based on real events that demonstrates how the victims of gender-based violence embody the collective image of a problem that should not be silenced, as is so often the case. In March 2024, the Kazakh director Rinat Balsabayev presented the documentary Gorgon, Produced with UN support, this documentary addresses gender-based violence and how it manifests, featuring testimonies from victims themselves, whose stories reveal tales that are never fully told. Experts on violence against women join their voices with those of the victims in this documentary to highlight a reality that, like all violence, must be stopped, regardless of how it is perpetrated.
En 18,000 worlds (2023), the narrative brings together numerous voices and images that break apart to give way to sequences that unfold one after another over the course of 30 minutes at a breakneck pace. They gather landscapes and figures that transport us through time, alternately to a past and a present, composing images drawn from a personal and external repository of her archives. The 18.000 worlds she speaks of are part of a universe about which the artist offers clues so that we can understand the extent to which Uzbek culture values a past and ancestry that no one has been able to take away or erase, and which she now reclaims for Uzbek identity by drawing on the wisdom of the ancestors. The quote she takes from From Shihab al-Din Suhrawardy“Bustan al-Kulub”, he says apropos: The entire universe, the 18.000 worlds of light and darkness, are degrees of irradiation and radiation of the Luz primordial that shines everywhere, remaining immutable and eternally the same.
The artist also describes the creation of this work, explaining the process by which she uses such a significant narrative and what her intervention entails. At the beginning of the process, she considers how to write the text she believes should accompany the visual narrative and how to simultaneously organize the archival material in her possession. I decided to start editing, she says, cwith the material I recorded at the Nukus Institute of Archaeology in 2017. Then I remembered my video about the connection of color with a person's inner state, which I made based on the ideas of Najimetdin Kubra, philosopher of color, mystic and collaborator of Suhrawardy. And then, she recalls that images of old Tashkent embroideries came to mind, which she says she often works with, because they are considered astral and symbolize the cosmos. This reminded me again of the idea of a circle, which seems static because it never stops moving. With this background, the artist believed she was ready to embark on the voyage. I use his words, through these worlds.
I prefer not to rewrite or interpret what she adds below to further document this work, because I understand that it is more interesting to hear what she says. It all started with my great-great-grandfather's manuscripts Abdul-Aziz Turkestoni, These were the sources the artist relied on to conceive this project, which ultimately became an essential reference point for her understanding the origin of the world we live in as part of the universe. This is evident in her readings. This is hinted at in the text that is read throughout the film. For example, when the voice says that people will preserve these worlds despite the external changes taking place in the world. For me, these 18.000 worlds don't refer so much to different geographies, cultures, and histories, but to different ways of feeling, experiencing time, and existing. His discourse continues to shift the narrative towards observations that he does not want to stop making and that, nevertheless, perhaps it is not clear why this allusion here on the one hand to modernity, and on the other to the suppression of difference. Modernity, colonialism, and patriarchy lead to a certain "rational" norm that results in the suppression of difference. I find this problematic, which is why I see 18.000 Worlds as a talisman meant to preserve diversity and breadth of thought, and to allow for the existence of other ways of understanding life. Tolerance, in the broadest sense of the word, must be the norm to facilitate coexistence among ethnicities and religions that can be understood as a reflection of so many other worlds, like those that make up this vast universe she is reclaiming, just as other artists and filmmakers are currently doing, not only in her country but throughout Central Asia, whose work we should pay attention to, given the value of their significant contributions. The landscapes and figures of Uzbekistan and the Central Asian region from which she comes are a priority for the artist, and this explains one of the reasons for her success. All the locations in her videos and films are found in these often overlooked yet simultaneously familiar geographies.
Time's Tail (2025) follows the same line of work rooted in an ancestral landscape where the ancient Silk Roads once ran, and where borders were as nomadic as its inhabitants, from multiple ethnic groups who have coexisted for centuries in the region. After independence at the end of the last century, these borders were seen as the threat of an intractable conflict, due to the arbitrary border design implemented by the USSR to control the vast tracts of occupied and unoccupied land in the region that best suited its interests. The horses of Central Asia and Mongolia are robust and accustomed to traveling long distances, in addition to other uses such as warhorses, hunting horses, workhorses, long-distance riding horses, and fast horses used primarily for sport. Each type has its own name according to this classification. tulpar, budan, duldul, jorgo y kara jorgo, cited previously in the same order. Equestrian culture in Central Asia and Mongolia is as old as its domestication more than 3500 years ago. The use of horsehair as material for Time's Tail It is no stranger to popular traditions or the typical crafts of the region, where it was used for the veils that covered women's faces and that usually accompanied the traditional tunics or paranjas that covered their bodies from head to toe. It was also used as mattress stuffing, or for making carpets and for some musical instruments such as the kulkobyz, A bowed instrument, very typical of the Turkic world, with which shamans entered a trance. Time's Tail, The artist brings together veils made from horsehair, from her personal collection, along with a screen made of the same material, as a further application of the veil itself. Onto this screen are projected the faces of women who could have been covered by the veil, but no longer need to be. For the artist, the history of the veil is inseparable from the history of women in the region up to their emancipation, echoing the landscape of the Central Asian steppes that her horses have traversed since ancient times. Endless steppes swept by the wind, an image of a universal time specific to the region. As if participating in one of the most popular games of this extreme geography, she says she is competing with time, recovering legends of the past in one way or another, to weave them into the present for the sake of personal and collective transformation.
The major exhibition he held in the Pirelli Foundation Hangar Bicocca in Milan between September 2024 and January 2025, perhaps the most ambitious project he has undertaken to date, A Seed under our TongueIt brings together most of these landscapes, where the aridity of the desert contrasts with the steppe vegetation and the horses that inhabit it. The physical geography of the place prevails over the human geography, revealing the impact of the climate and natural phenomena on its ancestral cultures. The project's title is a message, the meaning of which she discovers in the cinematic narrative she creates in Arslanbob (2023-2024), where the artist chooses a popular legend about the origins of the world's largest walnut forest more than a thousand years ago. The story begins with the young ArslanbobA disciple of Muhammad traveled in search of a heavenly place on earth. While exploring a valley in Kyrgyzstan, nestled between the plains of Fergana and the Chaktal mountains, he believed he had found it. When he informed Muhammad of his discovery, he told him that the aridity of the soil needed to be compensated for with some vegetation. Muhammad then sent him seeds of various fruit trees, which eventually spread across the land. This is how the walnut trees that made the valley famous grew, and thanks to this miracle, Muslims consider it a sacred place. There are, however, more or less coinciding versions, but with many variations, as can be seen in the one narrated by the artist herself. It begins with the moment a date seed was placed in Arslanbob's mouth, thus making him the bearer of a message that no one can take from him, until he delivers it to a mystic who became an icon of the native cultures of Central Asia, Akhmad Yassawi, considered the founder of Arslanbob's walnut forest. The date transforms into a walnut in his mouth, where it remains until the mountain receives it and it becomes the great walnut forest of present-day Kyrgyzstan, whose veneration demonstrates the value of its bearer's commitment. Khoja Ahmad Yasavi or Ahmed Yesevi (1106-1166) was the first Turkic poet, an ascetic, and a Sufi mystic who had an enormous influence on the development of Sufi orders throughout the Turkic-speaking world, and the author of Book of Wisdom.
The date seed placed under the tongue is a crucial element in the transmission of narratives that carry testimonies resisting loss and form part of the collective memory. This transmission guarantees permanence against disappearance by making it possible to share information and knowledge that belong to popular culture and form part of the identity of those to whom they belong. However, oral transmission, from generation to generation, often alters the narrated events, making it very difficult to know which of the known versions is the real or the most truthful. When exploring sources and documents related to this legend, which date back to Muhammad on one hand and Alexander the Great on the other, it is impossible to know, especially from a distance, whether comparing them can lead to any certainty about which one is convincing. But the forest exists, and it is the largest in the world; the walnut trees exist too; and folk wisdom has contributed its knowledge of this place for centuries, where the therapeutic and hallucinatory properties of the trees' fruit have given its mountains, and the two waterfalls that cascade from the summit, a deeply symbolic interpretation deeply intertwined with the identity of the region's inhabitants. The walnuts are harvested every year in September and are the region's greatest source of wealth. Another version begins with One day, the Prophet Muhammad and his companions sat down and ate dates. One of the dates fell from the plate, and the Prophet heard a revelation: “This date is for the Muslim Ahmad, who will be born 400 years after you.” The Prophet asked his companions who would pass this date to its future owner. No one volunteered. The Prophet repeated the question, and then Arystan Bab replied, “If you pray to Allah to grant me 400 years of life, I will give him the date.”
In the newly opened exhibition at the Swiss Institute of New YorkOn January 21st, the artist presented with Mandate (2026) the final chapter of this epic tale about the gestation of this sacred forest, whose therapeutic and hallucinatory properties, derived from the fruits of its trees, have imbued it with a spiritual symbolism whose transmission carries a great responsibility. The protagonist this time is a young man, Amanat, who belongs to the artist's own generation, and who evokes Arslanbob as he wanders through the walnut forest, gathering nuts until he falls asleep beneath the trees. In his dreams, he ascends to dreamlike visions that make him a participant in the stories told in folk legends about a landscape and its figures that explore his identity. It is said that through him, the figure of Arslanbob reappears time and again in the dreams of Kyrgyz and Uzbeks in the form of a tiger, traversing the human, animal, and spiritual worlds. In Ismailova's work, the forest is considered a place of geopolitical and economic importance, but also a dreamlike space inhabited by the ghosts of the past. During Alexander the Great's campaign in East Asia, walnuts were believed to have healed a group of wounded soldiers, prompting him to bring back the seeds and plant them throughout Europe. Following the formation of the Soviet Union, ethnogenesis projects reshaped the region's cultural identities, contributing to persistent tensions between nomadic Kyrgyz and settled Uzbeks. Ismailova's film protagonist was born just after the collapse of the Soviet Union, in a new era of renegotiated cultural belonging. Today, access to revered sites such as caves and waterfalls is blocked, as unknown forces seemingly vie for power in the region.
Saodat Ismailova She studied at the Tashkent Art Institute and at Le Fresnoy, the French National Studio of Contemporary Arts, when she was about to turn 34, the age limit for applying for a residency at the center. She currently lives between Paris and Tashkent, and her work is not only a reconstruction of the human and environmental landscapes of Central Asia, but also a celebration of the identity of its inhabitants and, especially, the legacy received by new generations. In 2021, she founded the group Davra To encourage the development of the local art scene, along with the implementation of other private initiatives, which are contributing to the visibility of artists and works that were previously generally unknown. In 2022, she received the Eye Art & Film Prize in Amsterdam, and last year she was also awarded the Art Basel Awards 2025 in the emerging artist category. Ismailova has held solo exhibitions throughout Europe, such as Abyss Between Two Mountains, at the Museum Amparo, Puebla, Mexico; Melted into the Sun at the Batalha Centro de Cinema, Porto (2025); A seed under our tongue at the Hangar Biccoca in Milan (2024); Double Horizons, in Le Fresnoy (2023) and 18,000 worlds at the Eye Film Museum in Amsterdam.
Among the collective exhibitions in which he has collaborated are the Asia Pacific Triennale of Arts (2024), the Shanghai Biennale of Arts (2024) curated by Anton Vidokle, the Diriyah Contemporary Art Biennale curated by Uta Meta Bauer (2024), the Sharjah Biennial of Arts (2023) curated by Hoor al Qasimi; The Milk of Dreams curated by Cecilia Alemani, 59th Venice Biennale (2022); Documenta Fifteen, curated by the Ruangrupa collective, Kassel (2022); and many others. In 2024, she presented Melted into the Sun in the Nebula exhibition at the Fondazione in between Art and Film during the Venice Biennale. Her work is in the collections of the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam, the Centre Pompidou, TBA21, and the FRAC (of Marsella), the Tate Modern and the Almaty Art Museum, among other public and private collections.
By Menene Gras Balaguer, dDirector of Culture and Exhibitions Casa Asia and the Asian Film Festival Barcelona
