And more likely to the younger generation of it, because, in my opinion, the fundamental difference between conceptualist generations lies in the relation to emptiness. The elder generation differs in an intention to fill the Void, whether it is the replenishment of the absent by prescribing his (viewer) comments [4], ironic patches to the broken ideology, the premise 'white = empty' [5], empty as a reflection of the transcendent [6]. Younger generation of conceptualists (worked in 1990’s) is famous for theirs 'kolobkovost', slipping-away (from any precise interpretation), so that slipping-away excludes the possibility of filling in. They felt the emptiness in the absence of ideology even more clearly, but the desire to fill it in or replace it with something more hopeful is no longer read by the viewer or reader. The desire is gone, because impetuous and chaotic filling / displacement of the void leads to its rooting. Emptiness is not always an absence, it can be understood as an 'empty sign', as the overflow of concentrated absence from area to another, as objects placed randomly and out of place. Emptiness is more total than man, more total than art, it is also the last refuge of history. But you can work with emptiness.
Firstly, 'The Blossoming Moss' is a story of a mythological scientific discovery. According to D. Frankstein, czechoslovak scientist Helmut Luchinsky discovered an amazing quality of moss —blossoming. Yes, delicate flowers sprout through the unsightly swampy surface. It took a whole his life to come this discovery, however, he died in obscurity (which again sends the viewer to the displacement of swamps from discourse), his archives were accidentally found by the artist. Since then, she has been integrating blossoming moss in the urban area by drawing on the walls of houses with graffiti depicting these same flowers. This act is both a therapy that acts as an alternative to the more and more impulsive displacement of moss / abandonment, leading to its inevitable rooting, and rehabilitation of the swamps, rethinking and re-discovery of them.
Let us compare: repressed and silent oil, which can rise up as restless ancestors [6], and swamp moss has not got a rhizome, butblossoms with a flower, has found rhizome and post factum has given it tothe moss. Image of substance from restless ancestors is a part of postmodern tradition with its quotation, cultural layers, borrowing and exploitation of the same images, while the flower is inherently hieroglyphic. It is a general concept, capable of accommodating in its beautiful simplicity opposite meanings [7], the flower, like Friendship (without quotation marks), and Love, and poster slogans (NB. the blossoming moss itself, drawn by Frankstein, resembles several carnations, thanks theyare not red) is rehabilitated by modernity with its postirony and new sincerity. To claim «moss blossoms» is a bold and unambiguous statement, despite the fact that the artist does not hide the mythological side of the work ('The Blossoming Moss' was exhibited for the first time in Museum of Artificial History in Moscow Darwin Museum outside of social media and urban area, where one of the explications clearly spoke of the myth of Luchinsky [8]). The flower blooms, unfolds under the sunlight — this is also a kind of disclosure of the hidden (hidden in swampy soil), but not forced disclosure, not even the disclosure from the outside. The Hidden, which has become True in the hieroglyphic sense, reveals itself.
Posthumanism, which has dominated the discourse of the Russian art scene for the past few years, has been seen as a symptom of great disillusionment with a person as a subject, an attempt to discredit him to the end, often unsuccessful attempts for any actor to climb to claim the number one throne, to split his artistic and human Ego, unable to bear responsibility and the pressure of emptiness. It is fascinating, that the rare example of the transmission of discourse to a fictitious human character is precisely 'The Blossoming Moss'. Frankstein's prediction is optimistic — flowers sprout from the moss, which were previously studied by a forgotten scientist. The artist takes the side of moss and flowering with ease, cause of hertirednessto worry. This, combined with the scientist-pioneer returned from oblivion, gives a strange effect: the recognition of emptiness and the departure of a small person not as a compromise of mutation into a cyborg, neural network and other forms of escapism, but as a natural order of things — departure, death. But this death, in turn, is not the end, but only the beginning, because, contrary to the common sense of science, the special moss of Dunya Frankstein blooms.