At 26, he paints horror so as not to be lost in it.
Originally from Ukraine, Oleksii Aleksandrov fled the fighting and destruction ravaging his country.

He follows in the footsteps of artists like Otto Dix — those who choose not to conceal anything, who show the human wound in all its rawness. His paintings are not answers; they are silent screams, wordless prayers raised to the sky — a mirror held up to the world, forcing it to face the worst of itself.

From childhood, Oleksii Aleksandrov turned to painting as a refuge. But in 2022, as war engulfed Ukraine, he continued his path, exhibiting in Leeuwarden (Netherlands), Strasbourg (AIDA), and in the streets of Paris. Several of his works — created in Parisian squats during the depths of his depression — have remained in a Dutch museum.

Oleksii Aleksandrov defines himself as an artist without nation, without style, without school. His works — stripped of frames, marked by fractures and pain — are nourished by the extreme metal music he listens to daily, by Soviet gulag literature (The Gulag Archipelago by Solzhenitsyn), and by visions of a collapsing world.

Like Otto Dix or Käthe Kollwitz, he does not seek to please. He confronts. He reveals. He accuses.
War, repression, the fall of ideals — all of it is imprinted on his canvases in a way that is both violent and mystical.