About
Aleksandr Gordeev (b. 1994, Kazan) — conceptual artist working with drawing and poetry. His practice is rooted in autobiography, exploring vulnerability, self-perception, communication and the body as a vessel of memory.
With a background in modeling, fashion, and Japanese performance traditions (Butoh), Gordeev uses movement, posture and clothing as tools of expression and communication.
His poetry is informed by the legacy of Russian conceptual and experimental traditions, where the text is treated as an object: not only its meaning, but also language itself—its patterns, its conventionality - becomes the subject of poetry.
Since 2022 he has curated international poetry readings in Russia, France, Denmark, and Germany.
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ExhibitionsSolo
Electrozavodskaya str. 33, b.4, apt. 21, 107076, Moscow, Russia
Rental apartment
Moscow, RU
2024
Poetry Day
Peredelkino
Moscow, RU
2021
Untitled
Betweenwindows gallery Moscow, RU
2020
Group
Into the Soft Light
Sistema gallery
Moscow, RU
2025
Limits of visibility Winzavod CCA
Moscow, RU
2025
One Stop Show,
Commute hub at Blar
Moscow, RU
2025
The Red Book
Nizhny Novgorod State Art Museum
Nizhny Novgorod, RU
2025
Vanishing trick
Peresvetov pereulok gallery Moscow, RU
2025
Isvkusstvo
Szena gallery
Moscow, RU
2024
Dungeons and Dragons Winzavod CCA
Moscow, RU
2024
a-s-t-r-a vol.5
a-s-t-r-a gallery
Winzavod CCA, Moscow, RU
2024
TECHNO(S)CENE
Athens Digital Arts Festival
Santaroza Courthouse
Athens, GR
2024
Essayage
Villa Paradis in residence at La Traverse
Marseille, FR
2024
The Night Is Young
Serene gallery
Moscow, RU
2023
Work in progress
Serene gallery
Moscow, RU
2023
Nur
Digital Arts Festival National Library of The Republic of Tatarstan
Kazan, RU
2023
Angels of The Wonderful World of Dissocia
Galerie Charraudeau
Paris, FR
2022
To embrace and to cry
Sinara Art gallery (Special Project of Ural Biennial) Yekaterinburg, RU
2021
Lines of Thought 2020
CICA Museum
Gyeonggi-do, KR
2020
Abstract Mind 2020
CICA Museum
Gyeonggi-do, KR
2020
Artist Residencies11th Season of Open Studios Winzavod CCA
Moscow, RU
2024
Art FairsBlazar, Independent Artists Section
Museum of Moscow
Moscow, RU
2024
Blazar, Digital Art Section Museum of Moscow
Moscow, RU
2022
Cosmoscow
Lunar Hare Agency Booth Gostinyy Dvor
Moscow, RU
2020
Other projectsCuration and organization of poetry readings in Moscow, Paris, Berlin, and Copenhagen, 2022–2024
PressGrazia Russia
2025
Snob
2024
Buro 24/7
2020
Design Mate
2020
Sobaka.ru
2020
ContactEmail
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Poetry
Summer Draft
If there is no answer for my melancholy
probably there is no melancholy.
I don’t associate a stay in a hotel with vacation.
Pause.
Think of what I just said.
Is that about general design - what hotels are made for?
Or is it just my life speaking back at me?
Some would think I am a whore.
Some would think I am a businessman.
I’m neither, but at the same time I’m both (Law of the Unity and Struggle of Opposites).
When I did a general blood test for sexually transmitted infections,
they asked if I had ever had sex for money. I said no.
I did not lie. I’m too Russian - equals pride.
I’ve always been scared of real intimacy. I’m too Russian - equals perseverance.
What exactly is a summer?
A hotel in Sicily,
a trip,
an ocean view?
A delayed reading of a book
I once judged by the cover?
Catania, 2025
Tumblr BF
How do we develop deep feelings
based only on visual information?
Are they real at all?
Someone said:
“You’re actually so perfect.
Perfect to be my boyfriend.
We would be a beautiful couple.”
Hearing it made me sad,
So I sent them another photo.
Lower angle.
Less clothes.
I touch myself — not out of desire, but out of confusion.
I want to be adored.
I got to be adored - to cite the Stone Roses, that symbolizes the raw, almost obsessive human desire for recognition, love, and identity in a world that offers none freely.
So I take a walk.
I take a dog for a walk.
To see a mountain.
Then a flight to Paris. Then Copenhagen.
Doesn't help.
Am I perfect to fuck someone
to the point they almost say “I love you”?
Or is someone perfect enough to do that to me?
“What I would give to feel you inside,” they said, “looking into each other’s eyes.”
“What would you give?” I replied
“Everything.”
I doubt that, I thought to myself.
Mallorca, 2025
Comfort. As a Concept.
Maybe one day I’ll dedicate a poem
to Arket’s café in Copenhagen Airport.
Maybe that’s exactly what I’m doing now.
It protects me from dead thoughts
that poison my well-being.
With its overpriced organic food,
wooden benches,
and racks of clothes
I don’t intend to buy.
It’s always quiet there,
even though it’s in the middle of a crowd.
Maybe it feels peaceful
because I’m surrounded by garments —
the kind of environment I actually live in.
And there are other spaces.
Like that French production company,
“You Know My Name.”
They treat people well.
Because they know that respect leads to results:
people who feel good
look better on camera.
They associate modeling with vanity.
But wanting to be seen
is not the same as wanting to be watched.
Sometimes I’m not sure
if I want comfort,
or just permission to ask for it.
Comfort isn’t a luxury.
It’s part of the infrastructure
that lets other values function.
I still hesitate
before saying what I like.
Naming what you need
makes it real.
Real things can be dismissed.
Or taken away.
Maybe that’s why I talk about cafés
and wooden benches
and racks of clothes —
as if they could speak for me.
So I explain.
Not to justify.
Just to survive
the moment after I speak.
Postscript (actually the reason I wrote this):
In my family,
comfort wasn’t encouraged.
You didn’t ask for what you wanted —
you waited until it was obvious.
And obvious often came too late.
Comfort meant giving others what you would want.
Which is not the same
as giving them what they need.
I learned early
not to share the things I love.
My peers laughed.
My parents shrugged.
Eventually I stopped showing anyone
what I actually cared about.
Which is also a kind of discomfort.
Not physical — but quieter,
and much harder to fix with furniture.
Even if it’s Scandinavian, neutral,
and framed by wooden benches and racks of clothes.
Maybe it’s cultural.
Maybe it’s a post-soviet trauma.
But where I come from,
expressing a need
felt like demanding too much.
Paris, 2025
What do I think about when I read books on Object-Oriented Ontology and Superstring Theory?
A great question in itself,
if only that were a question.
A hopeless attempt to understand the self,
from an important matter, steer my attention.
Meeting my therapist tomorrow at twelve,
every time it’s a comedy session.
Instead of responding, I laugh -
what’s so funny about depression?
I laugh at the seriousness with which he asks about my life,
it’s such a silly insinuation.
That moment in time when shame takes hold -
I numb myself out - emotional recession.
So thus, I read some intelligent books,
to ease the pain of feeling the strings’ vibrations.
Perchance, the physicists are wrong,
and my existence is tied to no objects at all.
Paris, 2025
identity in motion
i don't know who i am.
however, does it hold any significant relevance?
i mean look at me, look at the length of my hair and my face, look at the shape of my body,
praying every day on a mat
for the clarity, for sovereignty, for variety
projecting away the vanity of mine
and everyone's humanity.
my sun in gemini, i am mutable air
witnessing the unending struggle of the psyche to express explain express
my identity is an expedition bereft of conclusion,
a journey of self-discovery, insight, and resolution,
a pursuit of self-awareness and enlightenment,
an enduring procedure of constant meditation and introspection.
exploring the depths of consciousness can be intense,
as new truths emerge and old ideas lose their defense.
along the way, our tales interlace with others,
weaving a web of stories akin to diagonal patterns.
maybe tomorrow, i find the answers i seek,
as i isolate my soul from my mind and let it speak.
Hamburg, 2023
what am i leaving after myself (except a carbon footprint)
a lonely teddy bear lying on a king size bed
a countless number of words that i’ve ever said
my tabi shoes, i love them much, i’ll count it - one, two, three… oh, it’s six, right, for a pair to each lifestyle i had
i call my life - my main art
the notes on my traumas in my psychologist’s hands, she says it’s all mine, i don’t want it to possess
a small collection of vinyl that i forgot at my ex’s, never had the courage to take it back,
a number of people i convinced to invest in my art, now they are really sad
a sister will inherit an apartment in Kazan
no one ever will know that i see myself as a Faun
no one ever will know who i really am
is poppanda94 all i really am?
pavankirpal
aleksandraleksandrovichgordeev
Moscow, 2022-ongoing
untitled
spanish valley of moses
i got lemons from there
put them next to my archival margiela
like nobody’s business i wake up at 4 am to do my 2,5 hours prosperity prayer
it’s very rare
- to confront the self and be aware
neither the body, nor your possessions, nor you will remain forever
i was, i was not, i am, i am not, i shall be, i shall be not
everywhere
Mallorca, 2022
the alien is enjoined to leave Denmark immediately
it feels like i’m obligated to write when i have a major crisis
it feels like i have to capture the moment of struggle
but in that moment i don’t have anything to say
maybe i cried from the shock and from being enforced to act against my wish
maybe i am sitting here, in the detainee’s room of Copenhagen airport, refused of entry,
strangely for me fully embracing infinity.
yet i still have this lingering feeling of writing it down, making a poem out of it,
shaping this experience with words,
like it happened to the abstract self and nothing to the physical
standing on Danish land, my matter being separated from identifying numbers and symbols
and then there is this poem
where i’m embracing my experience as the most valuable asset
Copenhagen, 2022
untitled
i just want to tell a story of a little boy
he feels that he doesn’t belong to this world
and he is scared af
the only thing he knows is that beauty can save him
but not the superficial definition of beauty
the special kind of beauty that comes from the harmony within
to nurture that harmony is a hell of a challenge
like to open a jar of pickles with french tips, acrylic nails
acrylic protein
acrylic alpha-keratin
one of the strongest biological materials
Moscow, 2022
my life, expressed as emojis
🌱🪆
🥲🏡
🔬🐄🐖🐶🐱
✈️🌎📸🕺🏻🎥🚶🏼
🤡🤷🏼♂️🙍🏼
👤🌫
🧘🏼♂️📚
❗️👨🏻🎨❤️🔥✍🏻📝
👶🏻
🙏🏻
Tokyo, 2021
i love flowers
because they give me joy;
i loved people once
unlike flowers they didn’t give me joy;
so i stopped loving people;
and i fell in love with flowers
but unlike people they can’t love me back;
people i loved never loved me back,
and i never loved people that loved me.
so i chose to love flowers because they can’t hurt me;
except that time when i cut myself with a blade of grass
Tokyo, 2021
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Last Updated 24.10.31