Maxim Kilderov works among reminders of death – scorched metal, torn fabric, and the personal debris of lives cut short by war.
In a basement near Kyiv’s Maidan Square, the Ukrainian street artist has assembled a grim collection of battlefield relics which together form an unofficial record of Russia’s invasion.
Rocket launch tubes sit beside the diary of a Russian intelligence officer; captured Russian uniforms hang from darkened walls; thousands of military patches – symbols of unit pride, defiance and dark humour – cover display boards in a riot of colour.
For Kilderov, who endured 55 days under Russian occupation in Nova Kakhovkain southern Ukraine, the objects are evidence of a war he insists must not be defined by official narratives alone.
Currently an invitation-only exhibition, he plans to turn the site into a museum conveying the gravity of war.
"I don’t want this to feel like a typical museum where you walk through five halls with similar collections,” he said. "I want one hall that concentrates everything – so people feel emotion when they suddenly find themselves surrounded by these items.”
Since Russia launched its full-scale invasion in February 2022, Kilderov has gathered artifacts through military contacts, trades and personal recoveries following nightly air attacks on Ukrainian cities.
What began in his home grew into a dense collection of captured Russian documents and passports, helmets, weapons fragments, knives, grenades and night-vision gear.
Overhead hangs a Shahed decoy drone made of styrofoam.
Among the most personal items are a smartphone pierced by shrapnel that saved a soldier’s life, military unit flags commemorating Black Sea operations, soldiers’ drawings and half-filled packets of cigarettes.
Kilderov’s visual style – doodle-like calligraphy concealing symbols and messages of resistance – runs throughout the space.
A 5m painting, titled 55, is a maze of coloured lines and symbols representing the number of days he spent under occupation. During that time, he helped organise underground aid networks, livestreamed life under Russian control and spray-painted abandoned Russian vehicles with his symbols in acts of defiance."
From day one, we began sharing information with people inside the city and with the outside world,” he recalled. "By the 55th day, I managed to escape.”
After fleeing west, Kilderov staged exhibitions of his work, often using blown-up QR codes linking to videos he recorded in 2022.
He designs military patches, creates art on battlefield debris and sells rocket tubes converted into Bluetooth speakers, donating most of the proceeds to military units.
As Ukraine endures its fourth winter of war, he says he is troubled by the return of inequality and division in a society once bound by urgency and shared purpose.
As he spoke to The Associated Press, he wore a red MAGA hat – a gesture he described as deliberate irony, reflecting the vulnerability of a country reliant on foreign aid that can be paused or withdrawn without warning.
In Kyiv, his rented basement has become a gathering point for soldiers who bring new artefacts and stories, expanding a collection he sees as a raw record of Ukraine’s lived reality – and of a solidarity he fears could fade.
"When Russia attacked Kyiv, people picked up rifles and went to fight,” he said. "I hope we return to that unity.” – AP
