In art, the dollar has long ceased to be just a banknote: it can signify power, fear, freedom, vanity — or personal independence. Elena Grokhovitskaya chooses the latter interpretation. In her works, monetary symbolism transforms into a conversation about character, and painting moves beyond the frame — onto silk scarves and clothing. We met with the artist to talk without advertising formulas: can one create art about success without becoming a hostage to beautiful promises, where does a painting end and a brand begin, and what does a collector actually buy.

Elena Grokhovitskaya — work from the money series
Photo: Elena Grokhovitskaya's work

— In your art, money appears almost demonstratively. Weren't you afraid that the viewer would see this as too straightforward a gesture?

— Straightforwardness doesn't scare me if there's a second layer to it. Money is an image that is instantly read, but each person fills it with their own experience. For one, it's freedom; for another, anxiety; for a third, a measure of responsibility. I'm interested not in the currency symbol itself, but in what happens to a person near it.

— So your "money paintings" are not about wealth?

— Not about wealth as a display. Rather, about the ability to create and manage resources. I perceive money as a consequence of movement: labor, decisions, perseverance, sometimes risk. Therefore, in my works, it is the energy of action, not a promise of easy luck.

— But in social media, art about money easily turns into a talisman of success. How close is this territory to you?

— I understand why viewers want to see a personal symbol in a painting. Art has always been imbued with additional power — memory, protection, hope. But for me, it's important not to promise a magical result. A painting does not replace actions. It can remind a person of their intention, gather attention, create the mood of a space. Its strength lies in the meaning that arises between the work and the owner.

— When did the idea of "Paintings on Clothes" emerge?

— From the desire to remove the distance between art and everyday life. First, there were silk scarves produced in Italy. I liked that the image ceased to be static: it changed with gestures, fabric, light. Then came the idea of swimsuits with original monetary symbolism. For me, it's not about transferring a picture onto an item, but a different way for the artwork to exist.

— Where, in that case, is the line between art and fashion?

— I'm not sure that this line needs to be guarded today. Something else is more important: does the author's thought persist when the medium changes. If an item becomes just a souvenir, the idea disappears. If it continues the artistic language, a full dialogue arises. I want clothing not to illustrate a painting, but to carry its internal tension.

Elena Grokhovitskaya — author's work
Photo: Elena Grokhovitskaya's work

— You call painting the core of all experiments. Why?

— Because the most honest part of the work happens in the studio. There is no audience, no reaction, no sales — there is the canvas and the need to make a decision. Painting disciplines. It doesn't allow you to hide a weak idea behind packaging. Everything else — scarves, clothes, collaborations — makes sense as long as it's connected to this primary experience.

— Your public image contains many words about ambition. For an artist, is ambition an advantage or a danger?

— Both. Without ambition, it's difficult to endure a long journey, especially when the result doesn't come immediately. But ambition becomes dangerous when an artist starts creating not a work, but proof of their own significance. I try to return to the question: is there energy in the artwork that a person who knows nothing about my status and achievements will feel?

— And yet, you emphasize professional recognition: membership in the Union of Artists of Russia, academician status at the European Academy of Natural Sciences, the Geometria Awards 2025 prize. Why does a contemporary artist need accolades?

— Accolades don't make a painting stronger. But they mark stages of the journey and remind of responsibility. For me, the professional environment is important as a space of demand. The courage to experiment must be based on craftsmanship, education, constant work — otherwise, provocation quickly becomes empty.

— Your works are in private collections and museum funds. What changes at the moment the work leaves the studio?

— It ceases to belong solely to my concept. In the collector's home, the painting gains a different biography: new light, space, people, events. I like to think that the artwork continues to live without my control. Perhaps that's when it becomes truly complete.

— Today, the word "investment" is used by almost everyone who sells art. What does it mean to you?

— I approach it with caution. An artist should not promise price growth — the market is more complex. Investment value is formed gradually: from the quality of the works, the recognizability of the language, the author's consistency, exhibition history, collector interest, and professional reputation. But the primary reason to buy a painting should still be personal: you want to live with it.

— So, aesthetic pleasure is more important than calculation?

— They don't have to argue. Aesthetics attract, meaning retains, and the author's story can enhance the value of the work over time. But calculation without an emotional connection turns art into a number. A good collection always tells about the person who assembled it: about their taste, intuition, ability to see something before others.

— What should a person feel when they look at your painting?

— There is no single correct reaction. But I resonate with a feeling of inner focus — when the work not only decorates the wall but also returns a person to a sense of the scale of their own capabilities. It doesn't tell them, "You will definitely achieve success," but asks the question, "What are you willing to do for it?"

— You create art about strength. Is there vulnerability in it?

— Without it, strength would be decorative. The desire for success is almost always accompanied by the fear of not succeeding, of losing control, of not being significant enough. I am interested in precisely this contrast. A bright, confident image can hide a very personal question — and perhaps that's why it resonates.

— How do you see the development of the "Paintings on Clothes" project?

— I want to turn it into an independent artistic line: with limited editions, collaborations, and exhibition projects where painting and fashion will converse as equals. At the same time, the reproducibility should remain meaningful. It is important for me not to dissolve the artistic gesture in endless production.

— And what question do you ask yourself today as an artist?

— How to maintain freedom when a system starts to form around my work — collectors, projects, recognition, expectations. Success offers opportunities, but at the same time suggests repeating what has already worked. It's important for me not to become a hostage to my own brand recognition.

In Elena Grokhovitskaya's art, the symbol of success is not a final point, but the beginning of a conversation. Her paintings do not so much promise wealth as examine the price a person is willing to pay for their own self-realization: with attention, discipline, risk, time. Perhaps this is why the dollar sign in them works not as an advertisement for a beautiful life, but as a mirror of desire — bright, attractive, and not always comfortable.