INTERVIEW Soobeen Woo
PUBLISHED 03. FEB 2025
Slava Romanov is a data artist and multimedia developer based in Bremen, working with generative graphics, interactive installations, performances and auditory displays. His background in human rights and data journalism drives him to combine activism, art and technology. By investigating language, socio-political processes, and immersive interaction, he aims to balance chaos and orders and challenging perspectives on memory, perception, and collective narratives.
// What inspired you to participate in LICHTROUTEN this year?
I was intrigued by this year’s theme of ‘new energies’ and how LICHTROUTEN situates light-based art in a region known for its industrial heritage as well as its natural environment. I’d been following previous editions of the festival, impressed by the variety of artworks – some of which I’d seen at other festivals – and felt that Lichtrouten would be an excellent platform to share my exploration of ephemeral visuals and immersive experiences.
// How do you think your works connect with the theme of LICHTROUTEN or with other works in the festival?
In my practice, light functions as an energy carrier, and a single flash can leave powerful, if temporary, traces. This process of illumination and abrupt disappearance resonates with the core idea of ‘new energies’: the notion that energy, like light, can be turned on and off, making us aware of the impermanence and transformation of any environment.
// How do you expect your work to be received by the audience, particularly in the context of a festival for the public?
I plan and adjust the user experience in advance, considering choreographed timing, intensity of flashes and spatial flow. My work often alternates between slow, almost meditative moments and sudden bursts of strobe-like images. It’s always fascinating to see how people react – some may instantly recognise shapes or associate them with personal memories, while others may need time to process. Not everyone’s expectations will be met immediately, but I hope the experience will linger in their minds and cause them to think long after they’ve left the installation.
// Has your participation in LICHTROUTEN provided you with new inspiration in your work process or as an artist?
I often work in abandoned or in-between spaces (Zwischennutzung) to highlight transitions and liminality, and being part of LICHTROUTEN has given me a deeper insight into the historical and industrial layers of the region. This context encourages me to refine how light can reveal hidden aspects of a site’s identity and inspires me to integrate local narratives more thoroughly into my artistic approach.
‘After (Fleeting Retention)’ explores the ephemerality of visual memory through flashes and afterimages. What do you hope the audience feels about the transience of memory and sensory experiences?
I’m deeply interested in how memory never remains an exact, static record, but constantly mutates into overlapping, fading layers. By using short, intense flashes and original negatives – material that once captured the direct imprint of light – I want to evoke a sense that even at the moment we try to ‘grasp’ an image, it has already begun to vanish. The audience may feel that no perception can be fully captured: what remains is a blur, a trace, but never the pure original.
// Analogue elements like a slide projector have been combined with digital LED technology in this work. How does this technical approach contribute to the message of the piece?
I regularly juxtapose analogue and digital media to spark a dialogue about how ‘old’ and ‘new’ coexist in shaping our perceptions. Here, a vintage carousel projector is retrofitted with ultra-bright LED components, merging a once entirely mechanical device with modern controllability. The tension between the projector’s original optical design and the hacked LED system underscores the intersection of past and present – reflecting how our memories overlay technological shifts onto familiar frameworks.
// How did you intend to manipulate the audience’s visual perception through the interplay of intense flashes of light and darkness? Do you think this rhythm strengthens the message of the work?
Yes, the pulses of light are deliberately unpredictable, so that the viewer cannot fully anticipate each flash. This creates a real-time narrative of attention, where the pause and the sudden burst have equal weight in shaping how we see. The rhythm underlines the core idea: that we never really ‘capture’ an image, but only experience it in fleeting intervals, with the darkness resetting our eyes and preparing us for the next, ephemeral imprint.
// The spatial arrangement and sound layers are said to enhance immersion in ‘After (Fleeting Retention).’ How do you hope these elements influence the audience’s memory experience?
Enlarging the projected image to fill an entire wall heightens the impact of each flash, turning it into a more intensified visual event. Here I am referring to the work of photorealist artists from the 1970s who reproduced photographic images – portraits and landscapes – on a grand scale, as if playing with the moment of ‘magnified authenticity’ that photography contains. I also prefer to place such work in liminal or transitional spaces – places that carry their own echoes of past uses. Coupled with a subtle, atmospheric soundscape, my hope is that viewers will sense a temporal displacement and become more aware of how memories form, fade and reappear in these in-between states.
// The title ‘Šūtum’ means ‘south wind’ in Akkadian. What inspired you to choose this title?
As I experimented with UV light and materials that only briefly retain traces, I was drawn to the metaphor of wind – transience and erasure. As a historical lingua franca, Akkadian underpinned important legal codifications such as the Code of Hammurabi, and learning about its cuneiform system fascinated me. Šūtum’ symbolises both a linguistic and temporal wind that carries ideas away and returns them unpredictably.
// The temporary appearance of cuneiform on stone is highly unique. What message were you hoping to convey through this approach, and how does the symbolism of ‘disappearance’ play into your work?
I wanted to reflect on how even enduring civilisations or legal codices can fade into obscurity, just as cuneiform once dominated communication but is now largely forgotten. The fleeting glow of cuneiform on stone echoes our cultural shifts – what once seemed immutable or eternal can be swept away, only to reappear in fragmentary forms.
// Why did you choose to reference the Code of Hammurabi and the talion principle? How do you think these ancient laws and cuneiform speak to contemporary society?
Hammurabi’s laws sought to codify notions of fairness, retribution and punishment – concepts that still resonate, albeit in evolved forms. The principle of talion (‘an eye for an eye’) symbolises a raw, direct justice that recurs throughout history, even as modern law seeks to move beyond such direct retribution. By referring to ancient cuneiform and these early codes, I want to question how society reinvents or discards certain legal frameworks over time.
// Both ‘Šūtum’ and ‘After (Fleeting Retention)’ focus on themes of impermanence and ephemerality. How are the concepts of ‘disappearance’ and ‘transience’ interconnected in these two works?
Both works show how initial perceptions or codifications – whether visual or legal – inevitably change with each recollection or revision. In ‘After’, the original negative dissolves into an afterimage, never quite the same, while ‘Šūtum’ shows how a once dominant legal code can disappear from collective memory and yet reappear in a new guise. Disappearance and transience unite them: nothing is permanent, everything is subject to the eroding hand of time.
// Both works place importance on audience interaction and response. How do you perceive it when the audience’s reactions transcend or differ from your initial intentions?
I find such divergence both inevitable and enriching. If someone is confused or even dissatisfied, it can spark a new dialogue. Observing people’s spontaneous reactions to shifting light or slow transformations adds new dimensions beyond my original plan. In ‘Šūtum’ some tried to photograph every stage of the cuneiform glow, whereas in ‘After’ this will probably be impossible given the speed of the flashes – so each piece encourages a different experience that goes beyond my original plan.
// What possibilities or limitations did you discover while working with ultraviolet lasers, photochromic pigments, and slide projectors?
The biggest practical concern is safety and clarity: disclaimers about strong flashes or laser beams need to be in place. Darkness is essential to the effect, but visitors need safe navigation and disclaimers about intense flickering. From a content perspective, care must be taken when handling original negatives – many of these materials are fragile or require permission. Despite the allure of ephemeral imagery, these media present logistical and ethical complexities that shape the way I create my installations.
// What are your plans for future projects or your artistic activities?
I intend to further explore materials with ‘memory effects’, building immersive pieces that incorporate subtle, shifting imagery. I’m also exploring collaborations in performance, where my aptitude for generative visuals and data-driven processes can merge with live, atmospheric productions. Ultimately, I aim to continue bridging historical references with experimental lighting technologies – exhibiting worldwide and continually reimagining how ephemeral moments impact our collective and individual memory.