I was born inside the potato. It wasn't a matter of choice. My family was ex- tremely poor - and all they had in the fridge for the first New Year's Eve of my life (the 31st of December is the most important day of the year for all Soviet people) were a few potatoes. The potato is dull, common and simple - yet crucial to every Russian. It's a means of existence. Potatoes can easily sur- vive the whole year, until the next season - when Russians celebrate the late spring arrival of the young potatoes as a new hope, as evidence of rebirth. Meanwhile, the mid-winter pale roots, which grow out of the old potatoes, subtly speak for themselves, as a memento mori. O Batatodromo is a cave, a dugout, a hideaway, an air-raid shelter built of real potatoes. They remind you of stones, and it is undoubtedly dark and cold inside, yet this is a cave where everybody can take refuge and feel safe. The visitors are welcome to access O Batatodromo after covering their heads with aluminum basins-turned-hats - both for their own safety and in order to make them part of the Potato Saga.
Medium: SLS printing in powder polyamide, ABS plastic, pigmented aerographic hand
Limited edition: 5 + 2 AP
Size: 49.0 x 53.0 x 35.0cm