Giving a voice to those who can no longer speak

"Purge-_-Acystka-_-Təmizləmə" Copyright Darya Siamchuk

Fear and pain are emotions that have been my companions for too long. I am an immigrant artist, and I long to feel something other than these burdensome feelings. My work is a bleeding response to the loss of freedom, home, and humanity.

My art reflects not only personal experiences but also broad social issues such as oppression and human rights violations. Thus, by creating socio-political art, I express not only my pain and fear but also try to be the voice of those who can no longer speak.

My home, Belarus, has become a large prison, currently holding 1,400 political prisoners. More than 2,000 people have suffered from inhumane treatment within its walls. There are no free media and no civil society organizations. Those who spoke out against the dictatorship in 2020 are now marked with yellow tags, isolated, and deprived of basic necessities such as hygiene products and eyeglasses. They are even forbidden from speaking with other prisoners, condemning them to years of complete solitude. Men and women in detention centers are subjected to the horrors of violence, including rape. Activists like Maria Kalesnikava are tortured with starvation simply because they have become symbols of protest. Maria currently weighs 45 kilograms. These events make us question: can we talk about the diversity and beauty of nationalities when the Belarusian nationality and language are on the brink of extinction?

The number of dictatorships in the world is increasing. Repressions have started in Azerbaijan, similar to the early stages in Belarus, where there is a purge of voices that advocated for a peaceful resolution of the conflict in Nagorno-Karabakh. My friend and ally, Bahruz Samadov, was arrested for his peaceful calls and criticism of the dictatorship. His sympathetic voice for peace has turned into a threat of life imprisonment. Bahruz is a well-known expert on the South Caucasus region, who has been publicly advocating for a peace agreement with Armenia for years. He is a graduate of the Central European University and is a PhD candidate at Charles University in Prague. My last message sent to him remains unread. Not knowing when, or if ever, he will be able to read it, I feel immense pain.

We live in a world where the number of dictatorships is increasing, with events in Belarus and Azerbaijan being just two examples among many. It is difficult to combat violence and cruelty through art, but our peaceful protest shows that we adhere to European values and value human life above all.

My art becomes my means of resistance and hope to be heard. The themes of emigration and loss of freedom, though seemingly tiresome to the global community, are not just “themes” – they are real human stories. These are lives that deserve to be heard. Through my art, I aim to draw attention to these stories, to remind us of the foundations of humanism on which European society is built, and to ask: are we truly sensitive to the pain of others? Belarus, Azerbaijan and many other countries have lost their voice. Who is next?

I write this article with great hope that my art, bleeding from pain and fear, will find resonance. According to the theory of art, which states that art should raise questions, foster empathy, and facilitate social change, exhibition viewers face uncomfortable questions about solidarity, humanism and sensitivity to others’ pain. But perhaps it is time to show it in life.

We live in times when sensitivity seems rare, and the ability to love is almost a revolutionary act. Nevertheless, these qualities make us human. In conclusion, the art I create is a protest against the “total purge” cleaning the world of sensitive and loving people. This is my way of showing my love and sensitivity.

Darya (Cemra) Siamchuk is a Belarusian artist in exile, currently based in Warsaw. Her work has been exhibited throughout the region. Learn more at: https://cemra.art/

Art, Azerbaijan, belarus, repressions