In a concealed basement near Kyiv’s Maidan Square, Ukrainian street artist Maxim Kilderov has created a profound testament to human resilience amid conflict. His unconventional exhibition, assembled from the visceral remnants of battle, serves as an organic archive of Russia’s ongoing invasion of Ukraine.
The space contains a haunting array of artifacts: rocket launch tubes stand adjacent to a Russian intelligence officer’s personal diary; captured military uniforms drape darkened walls; thousands of vibrantly colored unit patches create a mosaic of military identity, defiance, and dark humor. For Kilderov, who survived 55 days under Russian occupation in Nova Kakhovka, these objects constitute crucial evidence that transcends official war narratives.
What began as a personal collection in his home has evolved into a comprehensive repository featuring captured documents, passports, helmets, weapon fragments, and specialized military equipment. Among the most poignant items is a smartphone pierced by shrapnel that saved a soldier’s life, alongside personal effects like soldiers’ drawings and partially consumed cigarette packets.
Kilderov’s distinctive artistic style—doodle-like calligraphy concealing symbols and resistance messages—permeates the exhibition. A centerpiece is his 5-meter painting titled “55,” an intricate maze of colored lines and symbols representing each day of his occupation experience, during which he organized underground aid networks and documented life under Russian control.
Since fleeing westward, Kilderov has expanded his mission, creating military patch designs, transforming battlefield debris into art, and converting rocket tubes into Bluetooth speakers—donating most proceeds to Ukrainian military units. His Kyiv basement has become an organic gathering place where soldiers contribute new artifacts and stories, continually expanding this raw documentation of Ukraine’s lived reality.
As Ukraine enters its fourth winter of conflict, Kilderov expresses concern about diminishing social unity despite the ongoing emergency. His deliberate wearing of a red MAGA hat during interviews serves as ironic commentary on Ukraine’s precarious dependence on foreign aid that could be withdrawn without warning.
The artist ultimately plans to formalize the collection into a museum that concentrates emotional impact within a single immersive space, rejecting traditional museum formats in favor of immediate, powerful confrontation with war’s human cost.
