I’m Here
A Project by DOM Art Residence for City Screen Loop 2025
Project I’m here, created by DOM Art Residence for the Loop City Screen, is a three-day show by three artists. They are united by the same phrase voiced with different intonation. The project will take place over three days, from November 15 to 17.
Loop City Screen
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I’m here.
Am I here?
I’m here!
An assertion, a question, and an exclamation - three possible interpretations of the same statement, three ways to declare one’s presence.
This formula seems simple, but it holds a lot inside: the desire to be seen and understood, the necessity to assert oneself, the search for one’s place, and the striving to stay “here and now”. I’m here is both acceptance of the fragility and the power of a statement. The presence might be quiet, but it is strong. It may sound like a doubt or a challenge. But the right to it is undeniable.
DOM Art Residence invited three artists into this conversation: Evgeny Granilshchikov, Katrin Bittl, and Marina Zvidriņa. Their work sounds in different registers, but together it creates a polyphony of identity and presence. Each one has his and her own intonation: an assertion, a question, an exclamation. Together, they transform a simple phrase I’m here into a universal statement about human presence that cannot be ignored.
I’m here is a project about what it means to be here and now: to search for one’s place, to doubt, and to assert, to try different forms. Together, these voices create a multilayered statement where the persona becomes the universal, and the presence becomes a way to oppose oblivion.
This formula seems simple, but it holds a lot inside: the desire to be seen and understood, the necessity to assert oneself, the search for one’s place, and the striving to stay “here and now”. I’m here is both acceptance of the fragility and the power of a statement. The presence might be quiet, but it is strong. It may sound like a doubt or a challenge. But the right to it is undeniable.
DOM Art Residence invited three artists into this conversation: Evgeny Granilshchikov, Katrin Bittl, and Marina Zvidriņa. Their work sounds in different registers, but together it creates a polyphony of identity and presence. Each one has his and her own intonation: an assertion, a question, an exclamation. Together, they transform a simple phrase I’m here into a universal statement about human presence that cannot be ignored.
I’m here is a project about what it means to be here and now: to search for one’s place, to doubt, and to assert, to try different forms. Together, these voices create a multilayered statement where the persona becomes the universal, and the presence becomes a way to oppose oblivion.
Marina Zvidrina
Marina Zvidrina’s Soultrap is an experimental short film that has already been presented at several international film festivals, including the L’Hospitalet International Film Festival (Spain), where it was nominated for Best Experimental Short. Marina is a director, journalist, writer, and visual artist who works with visual poetry and experimental cinematography form.
Soultrap is a confession of a woman suffering from depression. But first and foremost, it is a confession of a woman. It shows 18 silent portraits, and their bodies, the light, the gestures, and the texture of the space itself is their voice.
Marina characterizes her work as a “poetical horror-manifesto”. Here, horror is not a genre, but a visual definition of depression, the very dark space where the fears, the vulnerability, and terror obtain perceptible form. The movie doesn’t have a traditional plot: every portrait becomes a separate outline, and together they form a tapestry. Its cold hues transmit isolation and void, deep shadows incorporate internal darkness, and white and milk shades hint at the flickers of liberation.
In Soultrap, depression appears as a protagonist, a conductor orchestrating an ensemble of 18 women who succumbed to its force. It is a puppeteer, mercilessly making them move, break, and reassemble themselves again. Through this image, Marina answers the question: what does it mean to be trapped in the pitfall or one’s darkness?
On a screening day of City Screen Loop, “I am here” has an assertive sound. It is not a plea for salvation, but a declaration of the presence, of being “here and now”. And many women will resonate with this: “I am here. I am also here.”
Soultrap is a confession of a woman suffering from depression. But first and foremost, it is a confession of a woman. It shows 18 silent portraits, and their bodies, the light, the gestures, and the texture of the space itself is their voice.
Marina characterizes her work as a “poetical horror-manifesto”. Here, horror is not a genre, but a visual definition of depression, the very dark space where the fears, the vulnerability, and terror obtain perceptible form. The movie doesn’t have a traditional plot: every portrait becomes a separate outline, and together they form a tapestry. Its cold hues transmit isolation and void, deep shadows incorporate internal darkness, and white and milk shades hint at the flickers of liberation.
In Soultrap, depression appears as a protagonist, a conductor orchestrating an ensemble of 18 women who succumbed to its force. It is a puppeteer, mercilessly making them move, break, and reassemble themselves again. Through this image, Marina answers the question: what does it mean to be trapped in the pitfall or one’s darkness?
On a screening day of City Screen Loop, “I am here” has an assertive sound. It is not a plea for salvation, but a declaration of the presence, of being “here and now”. And many women will resonate with this: “I am here. I am also here.”
Loop City Screen x DOM: Marina Zvidrina (November 15)
Screening schedule:
The film will be screened continuously from 4:00 PM to 6:30 PM.
You are welcome to join at any time.
At 6:30 PM, there will be a public talk with the director.
Screening schedule:
The film will be screened continuously from 4:00 PM to 6:30 PM.
You are welcome to join at any time.
At 6:30 PM, there will be a public talk with the director.
Evgeny Granilshchikov
Evgeny Granilshchikov is an artist and a director whose work is at the intersection of cinematography, video art, and poetic expression. His media is himself. His body, voice, reflections, and intonations become both a material and a tool. He works with the vibrations of quotidian: the inner state change, the weather, mood, residency, age, poetical position, relationships, and identity.
His works are neither an artist's biography nor historical documentation. These works are about him, about Evgeny Granilschikov. He gets naked, turns himself inside out, walks on broken glass, opens up deep and personal, and then he shows it to the audience: very timidly, with caution, tentatively, looking around. In the search for something important, deep, and valuable, he finds it in himself. He is luckier than many: he has something to discover.
The last three years, like many other Russian artists, Evgeny spent in emigration. Here, he made a movie about it,
This movie is based on personal voice messages that he sent to his friends during these years of emigration. With the long meditative frames as the background, his voice sounds: in these messages, he tells his friends where he is, how he is, and how things are for him. And most importantly, it seems he says, "I am here". But this "here" is still elusive for him, just as is his understanding of himself.
And still, it is not just about him, is it? It is so close and intimate, so much about all of us. It is a universal story about the fragility of "self" and about how the scarier part is not to lose your "self", but to catch it one day and realize it is somebody else’s.
His works are neither an artist's biography nor historical documentation. These works are about him, about Evgeny Granilschikov. He gets naked, turns himself inside out, walks on broken glass, opens up deep and personal, and then he shows it to the audience: very timidly, with caution, tentatively, looking around. In the search for something important, deep, and valuable, he finds it in himself. He is luckier than many: he has something to discover.
The last three years, like many other Russian artists, Evgeny spent in emigration. Here, he made a movie about it,
This movie is based on personal voice messages that he sent to his friends during these years of emigration. With the long meditative frames as the background, his voice sounds: in these messages, he tells his friends where he is, how he is, and how things are for him. And most importantly, it seems he says, "I am here". But this "here" is still elusive for him, just as is his understanding of himself.
And still, it is not just about him, is it? It is so close and intimate, so much about all of us. It is a universal story about the fragility of "self" and about how the scarier part is not to lose your "self", but to catch it one day and realize it is somebody else’s.
Loop City Screen x DOM: Evgeny Granilshchikov (November 16)
Screening schedule:
Morning program
11:00 – 13:00 — Video performances by Evgeny Granilshchikov
13:00 – 14:00 — Screening of The Artist’s Film
Evening program
18:00 – 19:00 — Video performances
19:00 – 19:40 — Screening of The Artist’s Film
19:40 – 22:00 — Video performances continue
The evening will unfold slowly — with video performances, the film, and a glass of wine or vermouth.
Screening schedule:
Morning program
11:00 – 13:00 — Video performances by Evgeny Granilshchikov
13:00 – 14:00 — Screening of The Artist’s Film
Evening program
18:00 – 19:00 — Video performances
19:00 – 19:40 — Screening of The Artist’s Film
19:40 – 22:00 — Video performances continue
The evening will unfold slowly — with video performances, the film, and a glass of wine or vermouth.
Katrin Bittl
“We must watch to our fill”
I always become wary when I hear a phrase with the word “must”. But it was exactly this phrase by Katrin Bittl that was like an electroshock for me, like an adrenaline injection. It made me wake up, open my eyes, and stop being afraid to watch.
I have met many artists. I have always been attracted to radical art forms, from bodily actionism to conceptual practice. But Katrin seems to be the bravest of them all. And it is not just about the artists. Her art is a cold shower. Her art is a wave of a nine-point storm. Her art is an exposure that one cannot fathom, and it is impossible to ignore.
And then the paradox appears: when you meet the artist, you are stunned. How can this petite, tender, and polite young woman have the power and the will of a titan?
Katrin was born in 1994 near Munich. From childhood, she has lived with spinal muscular atrophy. She began her studies as a social worker, but discarded them for the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich. From 2017, she studied under Professor Hermann Pitz there. Her diploma work, “A Gaze at Water – Nude, in the Lift,” was awarded a prize by the Academic Society and became an important recognition of her artistic voice.
Her projects were shown at exhibitions in Germany and Europe. This Body is Mine (Munich, 2022), Debütantinnen 2023* (Halle 6, Munich), Politics of Being Heard (Berlin, 2025). She received grants and stipends, including HAU Hebbel am Ufer in Berlin. And now, soon enough, DOM Art Residence will present the artists in Spain, within the framework of the City Screen Loop festival.
Katrin finds, researches, and makes visible the facts that for ages people with special needs were crossed out, eliminated from historical context. They were not in the official portraits, in museums, or in formal art history. And then she says, “So, I will place them there”.
And just this way, her series of repainting classical portraits of the 18th and 19th centuries appeared. She takes representative images of “perfect” bodies and adds to each and one of them a special trait: a wheelchair, a prosthetic limb, a cleft lip, or scoliosis. This gesture is both radical and surprisingly natural: as if history gets back what was stricken out. She literally inscribes otherness into the cultural canon.
When Katrin says that “normative people build an inclusive environment for normative people”, it sounds like a precise diagnosis. We are so diligently trying to demonstrate openness and loyalty, so loudly declare the fairness and equal rightsthat we ourselves start to believe in, our image of a progressive society. But in front of the fragile, sincere, and forthright Katrin, we find ourselves lost.
We are not prepared.
Her art proclaims loudly, sharply, and daringly: “I’m here!”—and she belongs.
Within the framework of the project I’m here, we show three works:
I always become wary when I hear a phrase with the word “must”. But it was exactly this phrase by Katrin Bittl that was like an electroshock for me, like an adrenaline injection. It made me wake up, open my eyes, and stop being afraid to watch.
I have met many artists. I have always been attracted to radical art forms, from bodily actionism to conceptual practice. But Katrin seems to be the bravest of them all. And it is not just about the artists. Her art is a cold shower. Her art is a wave of a nine-point storm. Her art is an exposure that one cannot fathom, and it is impossible to ignore.
And then the paradox appears: when you meet the artist, you are stunned. How can this petite, tender, and polite young woman have the power and the will of a titan?
Katrin was born in 1994 near Munich. From childhood, she has lived with spinal muscular atrophy. She began her studies as a social worker, but discarded them for the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich. From 2017, she studied under Professor Hermann Pitz there. Her diploma work, “A Gaze at Water – Nude, in the Lift,” was awarded a prize by the Academic Society and became an important recognition of her artistic voice.
Her projects were shown at exhibitions in Germany and Europe. This Body is Mine (Munich, 2022), Debütantinnen 2023* (Halle 6, Munich), Politics of Being Heard (Berlin, 2025). She received grants and stipends, including HAU Hebbel am Ufer in Berlin. And now, soon enough, DOM Art Residence will present the artists in Spain, within the framework of the City Screen Loop festival.
Katrin finds, researches, and makes visible the facts that for ages people with special needs were crossed out, eliminated from historical context. They were not in the official portraits, in museums, or in formal art history. And then she says, “So, I will place them there”.
And just this way, her series of repainting classical portraits of the 18th and 19th centuries appeared. She takes representative images of “perfect” bodies and adds to each and one of them a special trait: a wheelchair, a prosthetic limb, a cleft lip, or scoliosis. This gesture is both radical and surprisingly natural: as if history gets back what was stricken out. She literally inscribes otherness into the cultural canon.
When Katrin says that “normative people build an inclusive environment for normative people”, it sounds like a precise diagnosis. We are so diligently trying to demonstrate openness and loyalty, so loudly declare the fairness and equal rightsthat we ourselves start to believe in, our image of a progressive society. But in front of the fragile, sincere, and forthright Katrin, we find ourselves lost.
We are not prepared.
Her art proclaims loudly, sharply, and daringly: “I’m here!”—and she belongs.
Within the framework of the project I’m here, we show three works:
- The Pee Privilege, where the basic physiology becomes a political gesture.
- The Harvest (with participation Saioa Alvarez), where her body and the equipment become the image of dependence and liberation
- The Cranes (co-autor Saioa Alvarez), where the nakedness and industrial scenery collide in one frame.
Loop City Screen x DOM: Katrin Bittl (November 17)
Screening schedule:
From 11:00 AM to 1:00 PM, visitors are invited to watch video performances by Katrin Bittl.
At 1:00 PM, the public talk with the director will take place.
Screening schedule:
From 11:00 AM to 1:00 PM, visitors are invited to watch video performances by Katrin Bittl.
At 1:00 PM, the public talk with the director will take place.