Marina Domogatskaia

Year of birth: 1991
Where do you live: Saigon, Vietnam
Describe your art in three words: Surreal, dreamlike, feminine
Your discipline: Contemporary figurative and symbolic painting
Website | Instagram

Your works often feature women with blue hair and red lips, which you describe as talismans. How did this symbolic language emerge in your practice?

It started almost unconsciously. Blue hair appeared in my sketches as a simple way to mark presence, and I kept it… I love that strange shade of greenish-blue, I used to dye my hair a similar shade. Red lips are a minimal gesture, yet they hold space for femininity. Together, they became my symbolic code.

Marina Domogatskaia | Courage | 2024

Snakes, smoke, and flowing hair appear frequently in your paintings. Do you see them more as protective forces, or as threats — or both?

Both. Snakes, smoke, hair — they all shift depending on how you look at them. A snake can mean danger, but also wisdom and renewal. Smoke can feel suffocating, or like something sacred in a ritual. Flowing hair might be vulnerability, but also freedom and power. I like working with these images because they don’t stay still — they’re always changing, like emotions, — like me.

Marina Domogatskaia | Snake Pit | 2024

Your art balances beauty with unease, vulnerability with resilience. How do you personally navigate these tensions in your life and work?

I often find myself moving between sensitivity and strength, fear and courage. Painting gives me a way to hold these contradictions without resolving them. Maybe that’s what balance really is?

I push myself to do things that scare me — expressing myself in art and sharing it publicly is one of them, and it still feels like a leap into the unknown.

Marina Domogatskaia | Snake Pit Is Sweet | 2025

As a self-taught artist, what role does intuition play in your process compared to formal artistic techniques?

I’m learning to embrace intuition as my main teacher. For me, painting is less about applying formal rules and more about trusting what surfaces — an image, a symbol, a gesture. Intuition makes the work feel alive, like it knows more than I do.

Marina Domogatskaia | Whatever | 2024

You mention being influenced by folklore and contemporary femininity. Can you share a specific myth, story, or cultural reference that strongly shaped your imagery?

I’m drawn to female cultural images that embody duality — like Kali, the Hindu goddess who, despite her fearsome image, represents both destruction and rebirth, or Baba Yaga from Slavic folklore, who embodies the ambivalence of nature and magic.

At the same time, I find it fascinating how contemporary femininity still echoes these old archetypes. Women are often seen as alluring or dangerous, fragile or powerful — usually both at once. In my paintings, I try to capture that tension.

Marina Domogatskaia | Whispers | 2024

Travel and language seem to play a big role in your life. How do your experiences in Vietnam, and your studies of German and Chinese, influence your visual vocabulary?

Learning a language is like slipping on a new lens over reality. German came first — my father taught me, reading Grimm’s fairy tales, and they gave me a taste for beauty mixed with cruelty. I first started learning English from hip-hop songs, amazed by confident artists and dancers, dripping in rhinestones. Living in China opened a whole new world: guóhuà brushwork, incense smoke, mahjong tiles, neon streets. Now Vietnam surrounds me with chaos and brightness, a constant visual explosion. 

I want to fold all of it — languages, places, atmospheres — into my paintings like overlapping layers of memory.

Marina Domogatskaia | Would You Capture It Or Let It Slip | 2025

In your artist statement, you describe your paintings as “psychological mirrors.” What kinds of reactions or reflections from viewers have surprised you the most?

The most surprising responses came to my Snake Pit series. People told me it felt like looking at something forbidden, yet they couldn’t look away. One viewer said it made them think you always have to stay alert, never fully trust anyone — to them, the snakes were pure danger. I love that duality: the paintings are dark yet alluring, seductive yet unsettling. That tension is exactly the space I want to hold.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

TOP