top of page

Kateryna Kotelna

Kateryna Kotelna is a Ukrainian artist based in Vancouver. She studied book graphics in Kyiv and later continued her studies in Gdańsk. Kotelna moved to Canada after the war began. She works mainly with drawing and painting, often returning to simple, familiar forms and images from daily life. Her work reflects on memory, home, and the experience of leaving and resettling. She works across paper and canvas, using ink, acrylic, and oil. 


Antique Vase From My Grandmother - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025
Antique Vase From My Grandmother - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025

Q: How did drawing become such a natural way of working for you early on?


A: I believe my affinity for creativity emerged in the early stages because it was a space of freedom, where you are the one who decides how everything will be. Due to my own restraint and problems with peers (I was afraid to talk to anyone), I started channeling this energy into my hands, which simply drew random lines. Over time, I realized that this calmed me down. Later, I also began thinking about social and ritual actions I wanted to capture on paper. This interested me just as much as observing people and questioning why everything is structured the way it is. All of this resulted in a kind of visualization.


Q: What kinds of memories tend to return while you’re making a piece?


A: During creation, I try to separate the professional and personal parts. Therefore, I often just exist in a flow, not trying to think about anything except the process itself and the intuitive sensations of color, space, and form. On this level, I feel how to better realize an idea. From time to time, when my inner critic takes over, I think about the past, often with a sense of shame (I think this is familiar to everyone). In such moments, I go through memories and dialogues with my parents and friends.


Untitled - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025
Untitled - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025

Q: You often work with everyday objects. What makes something worth keeping and working with?


A: Everyday objects contain sacredness. Sometimes we don't notice how the things we use, for certain reasons, become important to us, and we become attached to them. The distance in time and the memory of them make these rituals valuable. So, when we lose the ability to use a favorite cup or eat from my grandmother's dinner set, it evokes a certain nostalgia, and we realize the importance of what was. I feel all of this when I draw simple objects. 


In childhood, I felt lonely, so it's difficult for me to talk about love or warm family memories. But I remember objects I would look at and truly marvel at their beauty. So, I think this is even a shift in focus from the object to the subject; after all, my grandmother's dinner set won't stop loving you, unlike my grandmother herself.


Candle of Remembrance - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025
Candle of Remembrance - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025

Q: Your process includes scanning, tracing, and redrawing. What does spending time with an image like that change for you?


A: Scanning and tracing are a search for an alternative and a departure from the usual canvas and oil paints. I find it difficult when a technique is repeated. But these processes—scanning, printing, tracing—create spontaneity and give more space for experiments, so there's room to explore.


Cherry Tea - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025
Cherry Tea - Paper, acrylic, charcoal, 2025

Q: How has living in different places shaped the way you think about memory now?


A: In Ukraine, every Christmas, families who have lost their loved ones in the war remember them, even leaving an empty chair at the table where the dear person should have been sitting. 

So, when I talk about memory, I mean precisely the memory of a person and the sacredness of such a ritual. Emigration further emphasized my values—the ability to value safety and the fact that my friends and family are alive. Often, this is the only value for me away from home. After the war and emigration, I don't get upset over trifles or things I didn't acquire—it doesn't matter to me anymore. I no longer define myself through material things, but only through the personal history I have lived.


Q: What are you curious to explore next in your work?


A: I believe the word "sacredness" strongly intersects with the theme of memory. It stems from the fact that, remembering something, we want to pay homage to it and create a space where we can come and remember a person or something else that is important to us. This is the next topic that interests me.

 
 
bottom of page