Weed examines how power names, controls, and excludes what does not fit its order. A weed is not simply a plant, but a judgment: a life form declared invasive, useless, dangerous, or out of place.

The project began with a garden outside my studio, where removing a small barrier allowed weeds to overtake the lawn. This ordinary event became an image of uncontrolled expansion — not aggression as intention, but as survival beyond imposed boundaries.

At the center of the project is hogweed: once cultivated in the Soviet Union as a useful agricultural crop, later feared as toxic, invasive, and uncontrollable. Its history exposes how quickly value can turn into threat, and how cultural systems transform the same object from “useful” to “dangerous.”

Extending this logic to images, memory, and propaganda, Weed asks how visual culture can spread, overwrite, and erase competing narratives. The project considers classification itself as a form of violence — and asks what survives after being marked for removal.