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Host: Marat, hello. First of all, let me congratulate you on this project finally being realized. I remember we discussed your concept back in October. How much time elapsed from the initial idea to the final execution of the project?
Marat Guelman: Nearly a year. The thing is, the initial concept was born, and I contacted the Jewish Museum in New York. They suggested I dig into the archives myself; it wasn’t as if someone prepared all this data for me on a silver platter. Therefore, when I held my exhibition in New York, I went to the museum, spent time in the archives, and returned with what you might call a treasure trove—57 artists. Currently, the number is higher, because it wasn't only individuals of Jewish descent who emigrated from Moldova. Right now, there are 60 artists.
Host: Marat, aside from archival research, were there any trips across Moldova? Did you perhaps interact with the artists' families? And were there any discoveries that occurred precisely "in the field" rather than in documents?
Guelman: No, after all, we are primarily discussing artists who lived in the last century. Therefore, this is unquestionably archival research. Moreover, this work is just beginning: a group of volunteers has already emerged in Paris—centered around a Sorbonne student—and in America. The latter is actually a native of Moldova who retired and is now ready to dedicate his time to expanding my archive, but in terms of depth rather than raw numbers. Meaning, traveling to the museums where their works are housed, speaking with art historians, and perhaps negotiating exhibitions. This is merely the beginning of the work.
I believe that into this ongoing debate—is Moldova ready to become part of Europe? Does it have something to offer Europe? Or questions like, "We understand why we need Europe, but why does Europe need us?"—into this debate, I wanted to introduce the names of these individuals who have already made a significant contribution to global art. That was the central idea of the project: to recount the narrative of these artists and demonstrate the specific contribution of Moldova to European fine art.
Host: Absolutely true. Yes, there are several layers here. First, you are entirely correct—to demonstrate that we were already part of the global process and that we are returning to Europe after a period of Soviet captivity, rather than arriving as newcomers. But down the line, the actual process of integration will commence. What does the process of cultural integration entail? It means hundreds of micro-institutions in Moldova must establish links with hundreds of micro-institutions across the globe. And that is the most challenging task. Usually, nothing is worse than diplomatic cultural projects. They are consistently exceptionally dull—an embassy organizing an exhibition, and so forth. What is required are living contacts between interested cultural institutions. Through these artists, we gain a network of museums worldwide that are genuinely interested in cooperation.
I hope the second phase will mark the launch of this integration process. Furthermore, it must be said that today, contemporary Moldovan artists require a certain degree of support to move forward. We possess artists today who could seamlessly fit into the European context, and they will move forward, but within the framework of an existing tradition, so to speak.
Incidentally, the first major milestone of this kind was likely the opening on the 7th in Venice. Moldova's first official participation in the Venice Biennale progressed exceptionally successfully. It featured a project by Pavel Brăila. All the experts concur that it was one of the finest pavilions. And on June 15, at Art Basel, we are exhibiting four Moldovan artists: Mihai Țăruș, Victor Guțu, Tatiana Fiodorova, and Tudor Zbârnea. This alignment of parallel processes—the promotion of contemporary Moldovan artists on one hand, and the reclamation of what already existed on the other—should generate a genuine cultural momentum. In art, it is highly critical when Moldova suddenly appears in different locations simultaneously for diverse reasons.
Host: You labeled this project a personal contribution and a personal returning of a debt of honor to Moldova. Why explicitly a personal debt of honor?
Guelman: You know, I reclaimed my citizenship four years ago and throughout this entire period, conventionally speaking, I have been attempting to return—even though I currently reside in Berlin—return in the sense of participating in the country's lifecycle. It commenced with a conceptual attempt. I drafted a development strategy because territory development through culture is my specific competence and profession. I started with that, but rapidly comprehended that Moldova is a country where a private individual's cooperation with the state frequently leads nowhere. It isn't because the individuals in office are wrong, but it just turns out that joint actions or collaborative projects between the state and a private citizen do not materialize easily. One can debate the reasons endlessly, but that is irrelevant right now.
I realized I must focus on projects that depend strictly on me. The first project was making a gift to the national museum, which was exceptionally well-received by both the museum and society. I realized that this is the correct track—one shouldn't attempt to teach the state how to operate correctly. Let it operate as it does, but one must execute independent projects that rely on no one else.
This debt is real in the sense that for a long time, I effectively forgot that I was born in Moldova; I was swept up in a global career. I am fundamentally one of those radicants I write about. I put down alternative roots, then further roots, and then more roots. But when the aggression commenced and I returned to reclaim my citizenship, I resolved that I must offer something in return. As it turned out, Moldova assisted me immensely—my foundational curiosity toward everything was born precisely in Chisinau when I grew up there. I simply hadn't attached significance to it previously. So by executing these private initiatives, I am returning my debt of honor.
Host: To me, personally, your project feels like a narrative about artists, or rather about how a small nation, Moldova, can be an organic component of global culture. What does this project represent to you? We have a unique opportunity to ask the author directly: what is Moldova itself to you, and who emerged as the primary discovery among these Moldovan artists?
Guelman: You know, it seems to me that in the contemporary world, we are beginning to avoid the word "primary." A decentralized, network-driven landscape is far more comprehensible. I want to say that for me, the discovery inside this project was the French dimension. Out of the 60 artists, they are scattered across various countries individually or in pairs—whether Brazil, Canada, or Latvia. But three nations account for cleanly more than ten artists each: Israel, America, and France. I broadly comprehend why Israel and America became hubs—those were the destinations where Jewish emigrants relocated, and so forth—but Paris. That is highly fascinating. Therefore, my initial astonishment in this project was the realization of what a vital role Moldovans played in Parisian artistic life.
Naturally, adjacent to us sits Romania, which produced Constantin Brâncuși. But for me, this was the primary revelation. And because Paris is conceptually closer to me than New York or Tel Aviv, I intend to develop this specific theme independently—the relationship between Moldova and France. Integration into the world at large is a vague abstraction, whereas a relationship with a concrete nation is a tangible handle you can work with. Therefore, I think my subsequent step—we will observe how things unfold at Art Basel—will be an attempt to establish a permanently operating cultural initiative in Paris linked to Moldova. A sort of cultural hub that would unite artists, perhaps in cooperation with the sons of Dina Vierny.
This fact was known prior to my research, but it is critical that all Moldovans know it, not strictly professionals: one of the paramount, pivotal figures of the Parisian cultural renaissance was Dina Vierny. She was a highly influential gallerist who effectively bridged generations. She enjoyed a very long life; in her youth, she was acquainted with Aristide Maillol and Matisse, and late in life, she worked with contemporary non-conformist artists like Erik Bulatov. She bridged not only territories but eras. She was born in Chisinau; she hailed from Chisinau. The Dina Vierny Foundation is currently managed by her sons. We will endeavor to render these relations between France and Moldova far more visible. That will likely be the subsequent phase. Since I am traveling to Paris shortly for a major exhibition, I intend to leverage that situation to launch this work.
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Host: I think that could turn out to be a highly successful project, especially since Constantin Brâncuși commands immense popularity in Paris; his exhibitions draw a vast audience of Parisians and the French public as a whole. Will there be a presentation of your project inside Moldova, for instance, in Chisinau? Is a meeting anticipated?
Guelman: Likely, yes, but conventionally speaking, I am currently occupied with the presentation in Europe. I discussed this project with the new Minister of Culture; they are aware of it. Consequently, if an initiative materializes, I will execute it with pleasure. Another matter is that I think it might be wiser to do it slightly later. Initially, I will present this at international conferences, and the roster will expand in the process.
In fact, I am stating this for the very first time; it is an exclusive for your program. Three days ago, I published this list, and two days ago, I was sent a file: Mikhail Larionov, one of the foundational stars of the Russian Avant-Garde, hailed from Tiraspol. He was born in Tiraspol. I harbor immense hope because alternative figures have begun to emerge. I think that over this period, first of all, the list will expand, and it will expand via unexpected revelations like Mikhail Larionov. I consider this an immense value for us. And he didn't simply leave—what I write about is this shuttle-like movement (chelonost). The reality is that while Russian artists who emigrated severed ties completely, Moldovan ones returned. Late in life, Larionov returned to Tiraspol and worked there. This shuttle-like movement represents a shared cultural fabric, a unified cultural matrix. It is highly fascinating. Furthermore, for every single artist, I want to compile high-quality visual material. Conventionally speaking, I want to arrive in Moldova with a completed concept for a book album, rather than just a website—a beautiful, well-published art book where people can study the works of these creators.
Host: Did the Ministry of Culture express interest in this project? Did the Minister of Culture offer assistance in the subsequent realization of the project? After all, this is an essential project for the entirety of Moldovan culture, which isn't exceptionally popularized inside Moldova itself.
Guelman: I told you at the very beginning that because I maintain a skeptical stance toward the Moldovan state apparatus—I love them, I assist them, but I remain skeptical regarding their capacity to execute things—the Minister expressed interest, but frankly speaking, the matter did not progress beyond that expression of interest. I will be satisfied if they simply organize a presentation. When I made the donation to the museum, the Ministry extended its gratitude at the opening and essentially refrained from interfering, which is already a positive thing. After dealing with Russia, you are simply glad when people don't interfere. You feel that perhaps state participation isn't even necessary, because its involvement consistently manifests as a sequence of pitfalls. But it must be noted that the current new Ministry performed exceptionally well at the Venice Biennale; they successfully mounted a project. This demonstrates that they desire to execute things, but in my case, that hasn't materialized yet. My earlier conclusion that Moldova lacks robust cultural institutions and institutions of memory is not merely a conjecture; it is the reality we inhabit, unfortunately.
Host: You know, I would put it like this: generalization is a sin. One shouldn't generalize, or at least not always. Certain components operate, certain components fail to operate, and some operate at half-strength. But I harbored hope that ahead of Moldova's EU accession, everything capable of serving as Moldova’s calling card—like this project—would command close attention. There is still time.
Guelman: This will likely sound like a layman's question on my part, but you described the artist as a traveling individual. Within such constant motion, how is this identity and allegiance to Moldova preserved at all? If an artist is effectively trained in Paris, they are already embedded within an alternative school and alternative cultural practices, right?
Guelman: Yes. This must be studied. The reality is that paradoxically, because they occasionally return, these maternal roots are never severed. The ivy puts down new roots, but the old ones remain functional. I can see it using my own trajectory as an example; I had a sensation that I had detached myself completely. I relocated my mother away from Chisinau in the year 2000. From that point on, whereas previously I traveled once a year simply to visit my mother, after 2000, I didn't visit until the recent events. But when I returned, it turned out a vast number of these Moldovan traits remained active within me.
Furthermore, ever since my Moldovan origin was actualized, the individuals who work with me continuously—staff, artists, partners, family—are constantly identifying these traits in me. So, naturally, it is highly fascinating. Granted, I am not a scholar to provide a academic answer, but I can state that it exists, that these links are functional, and our task is to manifest them. Perhaps the task of more analytically minded individuals is to attempt to describe these links, name them, and provide an answer to your question.
One must bear in mind that I operate primarily as a doer. For me, this project was unusual because I typically manage, direct, make decisions, organize, communicate, and speak, but I do not write texts. Text authorship is not my primary profession, for instance. Therefore, for the sake of this specific project, I resolved that I must execute it myself, that it cannot be delegated—because through the course of this research, I will become a genuine Moldovan myself, meaning not just a passport holder, but a authentic one. I experienced this; it coincided with multiple personal milestones in my life. It is immensely valuable to me. Through this project, I can now consider myself a Moldovan without quotation marks. Previously, yes, I was born in Moldova, but in reality, I am of Jewish descent, residing in Berlin, with a cultural center in Montenegro and a museum in Perm. Currently, I have removed the quotation marks from my Moldovan origin and can discuss it cleanly.
For instance, I used to endeavor to refrain from criticizing what transpires inside Moldova. I fundamentally believed it was none of my business, that the individuals on the ground are the ones handling it. I can assist with certain things and refrain from assisting with others, and that’s all. But currently, I possess a far closer perspective; I consider myself entitled to speak about what transpires in Moldova as a citizen of Moldova.
Host: Can it be stated that your project is a narrative concerning individuals exactly like yourself, and that it represents entirely your idea, your initiative?
Guelman: Yes, exactly; you highlighted that precisely. I even faced a temptation to position myself as the 58th or 60th artist on the list. At a certain juncture, that will likely transpire. For now, I resolved not to obscure myself. Yes, unquestionably. Take those statements circulating in the Kremlin claiming that Moldova's election, the election of Maia Sandu, was pulled off by Moldovans residing outside of Moldova. Those are empty words, in reality. But it was critical to demonstrate that Moldovans residing outside of Moldova remain Moldovans. And we are ready—look: I made a gift to the museum, I organized this project. In the contemporary world, we can participate in the life of Moldova even while residing in Berlin, and remain full-fledged citizens. That thought of yours is highly vital to me in this project.
For me, the presence of works in museums was critical—meaning recognition within alternative contexts, right? It turns out that we look into the world as into a mirror. And very frequently, we recognize inside a country those who have been recognized outside its borders. Yes. Therefore, this criterion is vital to me. The reality is that throughout the last century, art was bound to the fact that artists interacted, wrote shared manifestos, and established movements. It was highly critical to me what communities they participated in. Yes.
And thirdly, there are certain artists who relocated to America, yet remained explicitly artists from Orhei, and their subject matter remains centered on Orhei. There are such cases. Conversely, there are artists who shook off their past and launched a completely new life—genuine avant-gardists.
Host: My list contains both categories. Because a segment of them emigrated along with their homeland and, while one cannot claim they explicitly glorified it, they at least developed their perception of art, which they received while in Moldova, on foreign soil. That is fascinating. Meanwhile, another segment, conversely, developed something completely novel. When you glance backward, the pivotal criterion of significance is a kind of survival bias. Those who are insignificant are simply unknown to us. In all likelihood, there were not 60, but perhaps 560 of them. But those 60 who survived managed to remain within the profession, entered local museums, and established their own schools of followers. For instance, a Moldovan in Canada established an entire movement—a school of Canadian abstraction remains as his legacy. Those who survived, those who manifested themselves—they are the ones who are significant.
Host: Does your project possess a future? Perhaps some collaborative projects with Moldovan musical figures? After all, Moldova is renowned not strictly for fine art and painters.
Guelman: Yes. Regarding music, the prospects are immense because Moldova is inherently a musical nation. I learned recently—the Vice Mayor of Venice and I were speaking, and I noted to him that a country called Moldova exists, and this year marks its first official participation in the Venice Biennale. He looked at me and said: "What do you mean, 'a country exists'? In Piazza San Marco, there are three of the most famous cafés in the world, and an orchestra performs adjacent to each one." Anyone traveling to Venice is practically obligated to drink a cup of coffee at one of those three cafés, even though it is exceptionally expensive. He told me that at all three cafés, the performers are graduates of the Chisinau Conservatory.
Host: Wow.
Guelman: Exactly. The same applies to Vienna: two leading opera singers are from Moldova. So today—I don't know how it was in the past—I think music possesses grand prospects. It simply requires someone who understands the domain to take charge of it.
But as for my project, I have now established contact with the Sorbonne; we agreed that for students, this will serve as an archival research term paper—examining those Moldovans who exerted an influence in Paris and New York. My concept is to deepen the research. The project will likely expand on its own organically, though not very rapidly. I hope I have executed a substantial volume of work and located the majority of the artists. But in terms of depth—acquiring more information about them, locating their works, and perhaps organizing exhibitions. I think this pursuit will easily yield enough work to occupy my children as well.
