Julia Belova's works operate at the interface of spirituality and physicality, tradition and rupture. In “Monstrum Sacrum”, Orthodox and Catholic symbolism merge with an unusual choice of materials that emphasises transparency and brilliance. The eponymous monster's role as either threat or protection, foreign or familiar, remains open. Belova explores the boundaries between power and vulnerability, visible form and hidden meaning, and demonstrates how Baroque opulence can be reinterpreted through a queer lens. In an interview with curator Andreas Hoffer, she discusses these contrasts.

What does your “Monstrum Sacrum” represent? Is it the 'inner monster' within us, or a hostile force?

Both. For me, the monster is fascinating because of its complexity. It embodies the foreign, inspiring fear through its otherness while also seeking acceptance and experiencing deep loneliness. It can also represent something demonic: a distorted image of power and strength that should serve good but instead unleashes destructive forces.

The church is a symbol of home and refuge, yet a dangerous monster lurks within. You never know if it's on your side. These collective inner states of fear and uncertainty also characterise the current global political situation.

It is important to me that everyone discovers for themselves the emotions that the monster triggers: fear, aversion, sympathy — or perhaps even empathy? After all, the church is a place of reflection, where you can develop a personal relationship with the incomprehensible.

What role does the Orthodox Church play in your life and work?

I have mixed feelings about Orthodoxy. On the one hand, it is part of the mentality I have inherited, giving me a strong connection to my culture of origin. However, I am also critical of it because of its absolute patriarchal structure, and the way it is exploited by the state for political purposes.

In this project, I have used Orthodox and Catholic angelic symbolism to create a bridge between two different worlds — a bridge that, in a sense, also represents me, as I combine the cultural heritage of two different worlds.

What is it about the opulence of the Baroque that fascinates you, and what significance does being queer have for your art?

I call my artistic approach 'queering Baroque'. The Baroque is patriarchal and hierarchical by nature. I rethink its physicality by dissolving gender boundaries and creating androgynous-looking beings. I often emphasise and reinforce the female physique within the Baroque formal language, bringing it out of its supporting role and into a central position.

I am also interested in exploring queer sexuality through the lens of the Baroque, particularly in relation to its historical heterosexuality, which was not always convincing, even back then. You can find numerous sculptures like this in Vienna.

This approach is very significant to me as I am a queer person myself, and I come from a background in which homosexuality was historically a taboo subject. This has awakened in me a desire to explore this topic more intensively.

What is new about “Monstrum Sacrum”? In what ways does it differ from your previous works?

I'm using new main materials. Previously, I only used metal for the internal structures of larger pieces and worked with textiles on the outside. For “Monstrum Sacrum”, however, I used transparent silicone to create open areas and make the metal as visible as possible.

I have worked with steel before, but never to this extent or with aluminium elements. I like the silvery sheen of the aluminium and how easy it is to work with because it is so soft.

Working with silicone was a big challenge for me. At first, it was very daunting to approach this material. Consulting a specialist in such materials, my colleague Katerina Sokolovskaya, helped me a lot.

Using latex was also new to me in this sculpture – I hadn't worked with it before either.

I chose materials that were as different to each other as possible and that create a wet sheen and the appearance of different liquids, which enhances the ambiguity of the monster.

Overall, it was important for me to step outside my comfort zone and experiment with new techniques to re-evaluate my approach to working with space. All materials were deliberately chosen in relation to the colours and textures of the church, to both support and contrast with them.