1. ­čÄÂBLAKE AND LISTOPAD­čÄ (concert)

In the chronosynclastic swirl of the evening, love and disappointment found a place to dwell. Bass, a contrapuntal backdrop, thumped out a new-wave elegy in the interstices of skewed rituals. Classic tracks, liberated from the tyranny of nostalgia, plunged us into a swirling vortex of distorted sound. It was a sonic parallel universe where pain and pleasure pirouette. The abyss? It gazed right back, a silent participant in this electronic entropy.

2. ­čÄŚ´ŞĆSTUS COLLECTIVE­čÄŚ´ŞĆ(conversation)

We spoke to STUS collective, a band of activists bound by a singular cause: to support communities brushed aside and forgotten. They weave camouflage fabrics for the frontline, reel in funds, and run auctions. Their fight against violence is not one waged with iron and fire, but with compassion, social vitality, and a creative spirit. The spirit of their patron, Vasyl Stus, resonates in their mission. A poet, a dissident, a man who faced the brunt of the Soviet regime, he found himself confined, only to meet his end under the harsh weight of the regime.

3. ­čÄÇNOURA TOUFACHE­čÄÇ (lecture)

Her performance lecture was a digital art wonderland, with cute archive images of soldiers splashed across the green screen, her charming artwork whirling on a pedestal. The lecture, “KAWAYOKU INCEPTION,” was a dive into ‘kawayoku’ – a new term for ‘buriaku’, or violence. She spun a tale of cute violence – bulletproof vests with cat ears, a dainty nail on a trigger, connecting cuteness, eroticism, and gun-fanaticism. The battlefield is an arcade, weapons are playthings! From the bond of a ‘waifu’ to a gun-wielding soldier showing a bit of skin, she presented a captivating, if disconcerting, cuteness-violence puzzle based on her massive 30,000 image collection, a snapshot of a virtual subculture caught between kawaii and kaboom!! ­ččöź­čÄÇ­čÄ«­čĺľ­čôŞ

4. ­čÄĄYANA ILO­čÄĄ (concert)

Her voice, an experimental algorithm, mutated with digital and organic elements, manifesting into audible utopias. But these utopias, desolate in their starkness, hummed with the anxiety of a world where violence is as omnipresent as the air. It’s in the silent shouts, the whispers that strike like thunder, in the very architecture of sound itself. And the visuals, as if fragments of a shattered future, oscillate between cosmic landscapes and subatomic worlds, revealing a utopia bathed both in distortion and an eerie clarity.

5. ­čÄžEDGHAR SET­čÄž (hybrid set)

To give us a a respite from the intense, Edghar started slowly and spacey. He painted a sunset at the UKRAiNATV studio with a balearic, acidic palette. Quickly, though, he flipped the switch, dropping electro bombs and driving techno into the mix, once again summoning chaos from calm.

6. ÔŤô´ŞĆEU ROPAÔŤô´ŞĆ(performance)

The stage morphed into a theater of bodily sacrifice, the knife a pen sketching violent glyphs onto bare skin. The participants, willingly stripped of anonymity, gathered in a circle, and etched their backs with symbols. Then, as the blood dripped down their bodies, they kneeled against the white cloth in a tableau of silent suffering. From the speakers, hornets buzz, their tiny wings beating against the cries echoing from a time of war. Symbols, once wielded as weapons, were now exposed in a visceral critique of corporeal exploitation. Aggression met pity, a dangerous dance of inhumanity and compassion. Here, the dissection was not a literary device, but a literal embodiment of their cry against genocide committed by the ruZZians.