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When I was a young child, all-inclusive vacation tourism just arrived on the Russian market. My city was full of travel agencies offering new destinations, such as Turkey, Egypt, Thailand, Maldives... very quickly, I started dreaming of going there, on those paradise-like holiday sites, with excessively big pools and unlimited food.

My family (two adults and one child) could afford going to Turkey or Egypt once a year in the summer for 10 days by the year 2005. This is the first time I boarded a plane and crossed the border of The Commonwealth of Independent States.

One thing strikes me about those trips today — I was terribly afraid of going out of the resort into the city, I was scared of the locals, I was absolutely not ready to meet a different culture. There was absolutely no importance as to where I was. It could've been any region of warm climate. All that counted, was all-inclusive, fuss-free time, heat and sun, clean private beach and comfortable bedding.

If we trust the hashtag #paradise on Instagram, it is a place by the transparent blue waters, under the palm trees, somewhere hot and filled exclusively with white people.

The etymology is very interesting — the word has made quite a long road from its original signification, which was literally « walled enclosure ».

Vacation culture may be far from the myth of the Garden of Eden, but it does have common traits.

I feel like vacations are always a walled enclosure in the middle of the year of work, labour and active participation in the capitalist system. Otherwise, it’s not a vacation.

Since I was a child, I was fascinated by travel agencies. The agents were basically people selling dreams. Behind their desks, they were sending people off to paradise. The money is the limit.

By the age of 12, I had a huge folder of hand-drawn hotels and resorts. Each page listed the facilites available. I was drawing everything I could dream of and everything my parents couldn't afford: water slides, tropical bungalows, a-la-carte restaurants and spas. One of the most important criteria was the swimming pool. It had to be grand. Enormous. Seemingly, my idea of paradise smelled of chlorine. Ah, and as I said earlier, water slides were mandatory.

In July 2021, I fractured my clavicle during my vacation in Sicily. On a water slide. Violently.

Makes me question all of my childhood dreams, really. One thing I know, I won't ever go to an aquapark again.

The whole idea for the project came from a visit of an abandoned Sanatorium in Sochi, Russia. Built in 1936, its opening happened in an environment of governmental tyranny. The whole ideology behind sanatoriums in the USSR was based on a rewarding experience for the hard-working proletariat. Architecturally, geographically — a soviet worker was supposed to have a royal experience while on vacation. Working hard all year long to then expect to see the seaside if lucky.

Seeing such a palace abandoned really sparked an unsettling feeling — while members of my family were victims of political repressions, whose labour was used in camps, other people were coming to this place to get closer to the nature, surely experiencing a form of social elevation, privilege, and satisfaction of the political regime.

I tried to connect the feeling I got there to my current reality, understand my relationship with vacation, labour, travelling and dreaming about travelling. The times and contexts change — politically and economically — but the idea behind the access to a warm, pleasant climate and a certain level of comfort is still the main reward for our work, our engagement in the capitalist scheme.

Welcome to the =I will be listening to seashells when I get back from work= research dump.

This webpage will be continuously updated from 12.11 to 5.12 with images and texts.

Follow the progress.

Special thanks to Gennadiy Khmelnitsky, Nathalie Spaulding as well as the curatorial group of Sticky Flames

On the 13th of November 2021 I've performed a small activation of my installation.

See pictures below:
(credits Charles Rouleau)

...and some more pics from the visitors. I've made a small dollar sign out of wet sand and i've been drinking out of a seashell-shaped vase, that served as an ash tray during the vernissage.

Thanks to JB and Laura for the snaps.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is one of the moving powers for the working force.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is a myth because happiness does not correlate directly with vacation at all.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is another selling point for services and goods, a motor for the economy.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is discriminatory.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is white.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is neocolonialist.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is capitalist.

"The myth of vacation happiness" is upsetting.

I am getting rid of the myth of vacation happiness.