The Dead Pool Won’t Ripple

A minimalist stack of used cartridge cases visualizes the fragilities and fortitudes of the LGBT+ community and the pro-militarist discourse in today’s Ukrainian reality. The work is based on the tragic story of an activist from Odessa, who was the owner of Tema, a legendary Odessa nightclub. He went to the front as a volunteer when the military actions started in the East of Ukraine, and never came back.
The constituent cartridges have a tendency to scatter upon firing—chaotically covering the ground, trudged upon, left to rust. In vertically piling the cartridges, Karabinovych transforms something deemed expendable into something intrinsic. Casualties assume a new, vertical, towering formation. Though each cartridges are cast from the same mould, they each retain subtle differences in color and texture.
In short, each cartridge has its own skin—a skin that shines, a skin that camouflages, a skin that catches the light just so.

I grew up in a building on the corner of Pushkinska and Zhukovska Street. The first gay club in Odessa, the iconic Tema, was several blocks away from my family’s apartment, on the corner of Pushkinska and Derybasivska. Another was directly across the street from it. They were like Romeo and Juliet.

Actually, I don’t quite remember which club was the original. Perhaps it was Chornomorets.

I’ve only been to Tema once. By the entrance was a quaint gypsum angel. The interiors were unremarkable.

Tema’s owner fought in the Anti-Terrorist Operation. He was killed on his way back from the East.

This story captivates me.