In Haifa, on a hill overlooking the sea, lives a young painter who carries with her the scars of two wars, one acquired language, and one art that is both a wall and a window.
Sasha Nikitina's story is a story of determination, of pain, and of insistence on creating beauty where others see only fracture.
A painter caught between trauma and beauty
She immigrated to Israel alone out of strong opposition to the war. When the war broke out in Ukraine, she left behind her home and her mother tongue, bringing with her only one thing that could not be taken away from her – art.
Sasha Nikitina is a 32-year-old painter from Haifa, who transforms memory, violence, and old Soviet aesthetics into a delicate weave of colors, lines, and questions about identity, language, and meaning.
Her story is not only a geographical journey, but also an internal one, between Russia and Israel, between childhood and painting, between trauma and beauty.
A girl among painted walls
Sasha Nikitina was born in 1993 in St. Petersburg, Russia, a city of high culture, theater, music, and visual arts. A city that was the birthplace of countless creators and intellectuals.
She grew up between walls steeped in old Soviet culture, where museums, painting, and books were the way to hold on to meaning - even when oppression, control, and fear hid beneath the elegant cultural layer.
From Grandma's Albums to the Light of the Exhibition
From a very young age, Sasha learned what loneliness was and also learned to turn it into beauty.
Sasha was born into a complex and twisted life story. She never met her biological father because her parents separated before she was born. Her mother, who served as a supervisor in the St. Petersburg police, had to spend long hours at work. Therefore, in her early childhood, Sasha was sent to grow up not in her parents' house but in her grandparents' house, in the small and picturesque town of Gatchina, not too far from the big city.
A house noisy with quarrels and quiet with love
The move to Gatchina was not easy, but it was a turning point. The house she grew up in was populated not only with memories and pictures from the past, but also with other characters: her widowed uncle and her little daughter, Svetla, who was almost Sasha's age.
The two of them grew up together, like sisters, but there was no brotherhood between them, only constant friction. It was a house noisy with quarrels and quiet with love, so this silence led Sasha to seek refuge, and she found it in the large picture albums in her grandparents' living room library.
The time when the pencil became a friend
There, between the thick pages of each dusty album, a whole world of imagination and beauty unfolded. With small, soft fingers, she traced the outlines of the masterpieces, without understanding the names of the artists, but feeling well the soul that poured into them. Art became her best friend, her intimate refuge, and her second mother tongue.
Without anyone to teach her, she began to try and recreate what she saw on her own. Not out of a desire to learn, but simply to survive, because that little girl, in her heart, was looking for a place to be. The pencil became a friend, the page a breathing space.
Gatchina, in those years, was burned into her memory as a city of light. "It seemed to me that there was no winter there," she says today, "everything was lit up... the palaces, the parks, the birds... Maybe because inside I was so dark that every sliver of light burned brighter."
Silence as a survival tool
But when she reached school age, Sasha returned to St. Petersburg, to the bosom of her mother. The big city did not await her with open arms, on the contrary. The feelings of loneliness only deepened. Her mother was busier than ever, so the big, cold streets provided dangerous adventures and gloomy scenes of homeless people, criminals, and figures from the shadows.
Little Sasha, the girl who had already learned that silence is a survival tool, wandered around there alone. She was silent and watched, and when she returned home, she wrote and drew.
An artist whose past resonates in her works
Today, Sasha is a creative artist whose entire past resonates in her works. Savita, that cousin with whom she grew up in the shadow of the quarrels, has also become a close friend. About a year ago, Savita also immigrated to Israel and now lives with her husband in Tel Aviv. The two meet often, talk, laugh, and look back not out of pain, but out of understanding what it was and how it all became art.
Sasha's life story is a powerful reminder that sometimes, precisely out of loneliness, roots of creativity grow. Beneath the silences and fears, there is sometimes a girl with a pencil hiding, simply searching for a way to be.
Studies, studies and more studies
At the age of fifteen, she began her studies at the Roerich Art College in her hometown, a prestigious institution that trains young artists in traditional techniques.
Between 2008 and 2013, she acquired brilliant mastery of painting and art teaching studies there. But Sasha wasn't satisfied with technical training; she sought the why behind the how.
The search for the connection between image and rupture, between visual memory and cultural oblivion, accompanied her even as she continued her advanced studies at the Faculty of Painting of the Ilya Repin Academy of Arts in 2021, a prestigious academic institution whose graduates are considered among the most senior in all of Russia.
Between wars, between languages
The turning point in her life came not from the canvas but from reality. With the outbreak of war in Ukraine, Sasha chose to leave the country. It was an action that involved not only personal danger, but also a political statement.
Her staunch opposition to military action, belief in human rights, and reluctance to Russian propaganda made her departure almost a moral refuge.
But it wasn't an easy journey. She set out alone, without family, with only an artistic ID and no safety net.
She chose Israel as her destination not because of her past or relatives, but because she had already started learning Hebrew earlier and because her grandfather always insisted that Russia should be left behind. The language was a crack of light in the political darkness.
A foreign language that is slowly becoming a home
So, just two and a half years ago, she started her life anew in a quiet neighborhood on Wingate Street in Haifa, in a small apartment with a roommate. The balcony became a studio and a foreign language slowly became a home.
She learned to speak Hebrew impressively and now teaches painting to children and adults - not only out of financial necessity, but out of a sense of mission, out of a desire to share what she discovered through painting: that colors can connect even complete strangers.
The studio where she teaches is located in Nesher, and the owner of the place, Inga, receives warm praise from Sasha. With shining eyes, she talks about the kindness of Inga, who is from Odessa, an artist at heart and the mother of four daughters, and Sasha, on the other hand, describes her as a "shrewd businesswoman," sharp and efficient.
About two years ago, when Sasha first arrived at the studio, Inga welcomed her with open arms, with human warmth and a cheerful disposition that left no room for doubt: Here she would find a second home. Since that first meeting, which was so pleasant and encouraging, Sasha has been coming to the studio regularly, teaching there with dedication four to five times a week and maintaining the same personal and warm treatment that she herself received - for each and every student.
The studio in Nesher is not content with just regular art studies: it also serves as an incubator for preparing portfolios for admission to the Reut High School of the Arts and to academic art departments at universities.
Moving to her current apartment in Hadar Elyon
While participating in the "Journey" program held at the Oranim Seminary in Kiryat Tivon, Sasha discovered Haifa. She discovered it slowly and gradually, through visits to the seaside, the city's alleys and its hidden corners. The city, with its raw beauty and simple people, captured her heart. She began to feel at home there and walking its streets became almost as natural as breathing.
At the end of the program and in the face of financial constraints, Sasha, along with three of her fellow travelers, decided to rent a shared apartment in the French Carmel neighborhood. It was a headlong leap into a life of independence, wrapped in a collaborative spirit and a sense of continuing the journey that began among the pine trees of the seminary.
But life, in its unexpected way, continues to change. Couples are formed, and the group that came together around a shared educational memory slowly falls apart.
Sasha, in a quiet but determined move, moved to her current apartment in the Hadar Elyon neighborhood, and there, among the stone houses and the urban landscape, she continues to embroider the Haifa chapter of her life.
From the Carmel to the apartment in the heart of Haifa: Sasha turns over a new leaf – with a new friend,
As mentioned, after some time in the French Carmel neighborhood, Sasha said goodbye to the last of her friends and the sounds of the tall trees to step into a new and intriguing chapter in her life. She did not take this significant step, moving to a new apartment, alone, but alongside a new significant figure who entered her life: Katya, who was a coordinator in the "Journey" program and is now a close partner and safe ground in the transition phase.
Together, the two set out on a search for the perfect apartment, but apparently fate didn't intend to make it difficult for them. The first apartment they saw: a bright and open Haifa apartment, captivated Laban. "It just felt right," says Sasha. "The design, the energy, every corner seemed to be waiting for us to come in."
A personal studio and one stubborn crow
The apartment not only meets the practical needs of the two, but also quickly became a personal and creative space for Sasha.
She was especially drawn to the enclosed balcony, which was lovingly converted into a small studio, a beating heart of creation. Here, in the daylight and in the quiet heart of Haifa, she immerses herself in painting and drawing, weaving lines and colors with ideas, messages and emotional layers. "It's not just art," she says, "it's an emotional translation of experiences, these are my kind of words on canvas."
But the apartment doesn't just belong to humans. An unusual guest makes a point of visiting the kitchen balcony, a black crow with a single white feather on its head, who, like a personal alarm clock, arrives every time the smells of cooking rise from the kitchen. Then he stands on the railing, watching and waiting for a tip. "It seems like he belongs here just like us," smiles Sasha, "he's already part of the landscape."
Thus, between brushes and hot meals, conversations into the night, and visits from one curious crow, a new story of home, friendship, and creation was woven for him.
A Corner of Inspiration: The Old Table That Nourishes the New Dream
Deep in her new Haifa apartment, between the white walls and the open view of the sea, there is one corner that Sasha particularly loves: her work area.
This is not just another standard desk in front of a computer, but an extraordinary item, loaded with memories of others and new promises of her own. It is a vintage desk made of wood and iron, lovingly given to her by the previous tenants, as if an invisible hand had taken care to leave her the exact place where she could think, create, and write.
On this table, which is unclear what has happened to it over the years of its existence, Sasha's thesis for her master's degree in the Department of Creative Arts at the University of Haifa is now being delicately and consistently constructed.
This small island, at the heart of the new apartment, has become a focus of concentration, inspiration, and self-belief. Here she edits, deletes, adds, and reflects… not only on words, but also on the trajectory of her artistic life.
The old tree, which has absorbed decades of thoughts and words of others, now accepts Sasha's personal plans: her dreams, her doubts, and the fragments of her identity as an artist. It is a beautiful encounter between past and present, between an object devoid of consciousness and a young woman seeking to express herself in a multi-layered world of creation.
The dining area as a space of peace, inspiration, and true friendship
In addition to every significant corner in her apartment, Sasha especially cherishes the dining area, located in the apartment's kitchen, as one of her most favorite corners.
This is the place where not only objects close to the heart are concentrated, but also moments of silence, harmony and inspiration. On the old wooden table located there, items with special emotional value are arranged. This, alongside scented candles that are lit every evening.
During leisure time, when the door opens and Katya, her partner in life and creativity, joins her, the dining area becomes a focal point for intimate and rich conversation. The candles spread soothing aromas in the air, which serve as a perfect backdrop for in-depth conversations, sharing experiences, and deepening the bond between them. For Sasha, these moments of shared silence are truly quality time, from which she draws strength and a sense of closeness, and thus an intimacy is created that builds and strengthens her personal life.
This dining area, which may seem ordinary from the outside, is a kind of small sanctuary for Sasha. A haven where the heart, soul, and creativity meet. This corner fills her apartment with warmth, light, and a sense of belonging, and gives expression to the inner depths of her life.
The Beauty of Chaos: The Album That Moves Sasha Again and Again
At the heart of Sasha's personal library, among shelves packed with textbooks, notebooks, and memory albums, stands proudly one book that carries with it deep and unique emotional value: a photo album by photographer Josef Sudek.
The book, printed in contrasting black and white, has become over the years a kind of emotional anchor, a visual reminder of a worldview that does not seek simple beauty, but rather the cracks, the contradiction, the chaos.
Sasha is strongly drawn to Sudek's work, not only for his unconventional photographic compositions, but also for his courageous choice to avoid the conventional and the expected. Instead of "cute" items or ornate images, Sudek photographs forgotten objects, chaotic corners of a crumbling reality, transforming small, neglected moments into resonant works. Sasha, whose life has not been without upheavals, both personal and historical, finds in his work a clear echo of her own life journey.
The album was purchased by chance on one of her trips to Prague, but it quickly became an intimate, almost ceremonial item. She often returned to it, leafing through its pages, finding with each new viewing another layer, another memory, a meaning that had not yet been discovered. Photography for Sudek is not purely aesthetic. It is a way of observation, a way of coping. For Sasha, the album is not just a photo book; it is a mirror, it is an anchor, it is testimony.
The Lens of Emotion: Sasha Continues the Photography Tradition in Her Own Way
Sasha's world is not limited to observation, but is woven through the eye of the camera, through light and shadow, through the encounter between past and present. If it seemed for a moment that her connection to photography was rooted only in her admiration for the works of Josef Sudek, the Czech photographer-artist known for his intimate and inspiring compositions, then this is only the tip of the iceberg.
Sasha herself is a photographer, and in an almost ceremonial way, she collects old cameras that are pieces of the past, each of which carries a silent history within it. She expands her collection slowly and awestruck at flea markets. Sometimes, she says, "with awe and trembling," as if each camera is a gateway to a forgotten realm of unborn images.
With one of the cameras, an antique film camera, she even continues to take pictures today. Yes, in the digital age, where thousands of photos are obtained at the touch of a button, Sasha chooses the long, traditional path, which involves patience, thought, and attention to the moment. The film, that delicate and perishable material, was purchased not far from her home, at the Wizo College in the German Colony in Haifa.
But the investment doesn't end there. Sasha develops her black-and-white photographs herself, just as photographers in previous generations did. She places the paper in her hands into the solutions, eagerly awaiting the slow revelation of the image - as if expanding the boundaries of time and the ability to observe.
A memory from clay: the work that was born in the Oranim dormitory and continues to beat
While Sasha was a participant in the "Journey" program, living in the student dormitories of Oranim College, a gateway to a different kind of art opened for her, one that left a real mark on her soul and hands.
She found herself drawn into the ceramics classes on campus, a place that knew inner peace and manual labor, where she first experienced the quiet yet powerful language of clay.
Between classes, amidst the smell of wet earth and dirty hands, small works were born that she has treasured ever since. But one work stands out above them all. It is a heart made of clay, painted in shades of bright red, which seems to still be dripping, aching, perhaps even screaming from its silence.
"It is the heart that has seen everything," she says of him. "It feels, remembers, absorbs into itself what I have not always been able to put into words." This heart, created from a one-time encounter between a contemporary soul and ancient art, continues to accompany Sasha even today. It is not just an artistic creation, but a living, painful and loving documentation of a formative period. A period of discovery, of daring, of beginnings.
Transformation of meaning
In her final exhibition, currently on display at the University of Haifa Gallery as part of the MFA program, Sasha does exactly what she did in her personal life: takes existing images and transforms them. The exhibition bears an almost poetic title: ""On the street of love, the streetlights are broken." One sentence in which tenderness and pain, longing and heartbreak intersect.
Her works are based on classical painting, on canvas and in oil, but these are only the basis. Sasha treats visual images like a surgeon: she cuts, dissects, seeks to extract from them the meaning that has been attached to them, and to examine what remains when the known story is no longer told. She works with frames from films, with linguistic clichés such as "the crime line continues to grow downwards", "the wailing of alarms", "emergency protection". These expressions are from public discourse that, through repeated use, have become hollow and sometimes even manipulative.
Painting, for her, is not just aesthetics, but is a critique, a subversive act. She reframes the context in which we consume the image, asking the viewer to stop and ask: What am I really seeing?
Love-hate for the aesthetics of an underworld
One of the central questions in Sasha's work concerns her complex relationship to popular Russian aesthetics, and in particular to the crime culture known in Russian as "latnaya." This is a visual culture saturated with kitsch, powerful masculinity, heroic images, nostalgic music, and implied violence. Sasha admits that she is drawn to its visual envelope: to the colors, to the theatricality, to the images reminiscent of gangster films.
But she also understands the danger in it: these are symbols that distort reality, that hide under the guise of "honor" and "tradition" ideas of oppression, toxic genderism, control, and fear.
In her work, Sasha does not directly fight this aesthetic, but rather deals with it as in shadow boxing: through irony, breaking expectations, turning the image upside down.
She does not preach, but rather suggests to the viewer to look again, with a more mature, observant, aware eye. Precisely out of attraction, Sasha creates the space for criticism. This is her way: not to run to the edge, but to dance on the brink.
Painting as survival, teaching as mission
As mentioned, in parallel with her artistic work, Sasha continues to teach painting to groups of children and adults, some of whom are Israelis, some are new immigrants, some are dealing with integration challenges or personal crises themselves. For the students of the studio in Nesher, as well as for her, painting is a tool to breathe, think, imagine. For her, it is not just a profession, but a way to bring about change.
She herself knows what loneliness is, what the silence of an unfamiliar language is, and what it feels like to be an outsider in a foreign culture. But she also believes—and perhaps this is where her greatness lies—that when you teach a child to draw, you are not just giving them a tool, but you are telling them: You are allowed to see the world differently..
The light that remains when everything collapses
The title of her exhibition is no coincidence: "On the Street of Love, the Streetlights Are Broken" is an artistic metaphor, but also a biographical sentence. Sasha Nikitina walks this street every day. The street where there is love, but the light is not always complete. And yet, she lights her own lamp: in a drawing, in a conversation, in a thin line that casts the right shadow. Out of the fracture she creates.
It's not easy for her to define herself. A new immigrant, an artist, a teacher, a woman between worlds. But perhaps that's exactly her definition: she exists on the edge, asking questions, drawing what hasn't yet been said.
The exhibition "On Love Street, the Streetlights Are Broken" is being presented at the University of Haifa Gallery as part of the MFA Master of Fine Arts program, and will be open to the public until July 8.
Haifa on foot and by sound: Sasha's leisure routine
In her free time, Sasha simply loves to walk. She chooses to walk, sometimes for an hour or more, not out of necessity, but out of choice. Often, at the end of a day of study at the university, she walks to her home in the Hadar neighborhood and sometimes even continues to the Carmel Tzarfati neighborhood.
For Sasha, walking the streets of Haifa is much more than transportation, it is a way to observe the surroundings, breathe the air, notice the trees, the buildings, and feel the city. She especially enjoys the green landscape of the Carmel and the sense of space that opens up before her as she walks.
Besides her love of walking around the city, Sasha also makes sure to keep in touch with her friends, some of whom live in Tel Aviv, but many also live here in Haifa. One of the main meeting points for them is classical music concerts, an area to which Sasha is very connected.
Her favorite group in particular is the "Trio Lumina." This is a Haifa trio consisting of three talented musicians, who perform with a wide repertoire that includes classical works, tango, and neoclassical music.
Between walking around the city and listening to concerts, it appears that Sasha's leisure life reflects a deep connection to her environment and the culture that nourishes her.
A touching article about a gentle and special girl.
To a Jew,
Thank you very much for your complimentary response.
I was happy to know that the article touched your heart and conveyed Sasha's unique and high-quality character in a fitting and respectful manner.
For Rachel.
Once again, you have scored with an impressive and delicate description that penetrates and peels away layers of a powerful and talented woman, while at the same time giving a sense of flutter. And through the article, you have also introduced us to other artists and opened a window.
Although in this way the background is supposedly the residence and the objects, this time the surrounding friends and the variety of her activities are also simply ironic and exciting.
Thank you.
To Hannah,
You touched me so much.
Your words enveloped me just as you described. Like good friends who hold and understand without having to explain too much.
Indeed, I am writing from the place closest to me, and once again you remind me of how much power there is in such a personal encounter, especially when what is written truly manages to touch (also) others.
Thank you for opening your heart, thank you for seeing.
It's not obvious, and it fills me up. I like it.
I read it, and I was very impressed by the writing style, sensitivity, and content.
Cheers!!!
Nice.
Dear Nitza,
What a moving response! Thank you for reading, for the kind words, and for the open heart that received what I wrote.
Your impressions touched me and give me a lot of strength to continue.
Great article Rachel and lots of good luck to Sasha, it's really interesting the nature of life, childhood memories, the polarization between these that leads Sasha to express her art. Good luck to Sasha in her future endeavors.
hello Yossi,
Thank you for your complimentary response.
I was happy to read that the article sparked your interest and resonated with you about the different layers of Sasha's story: her childhood, her memories, and the tension between the worlds that accompany her and are expressed so deeply in her art.
I will join in your wishes. Indeed, an impressive and unique path awaits her.
Thank you for reading and for the kind words.