Sofia Malemina is a London-based multimedia artist whose work spans video, sound, and immersive installation. A 2023 Fine Art graduate of Central Saint Martins, Sofia combines digital technologies with traditional techniques to explore themes like identity, perception, and the blurry line between physical and virtual space. Her influences range from the philosophical musings of Jean Baudrillard to the experimental silence of John Cage, and her practice is rooted in conceptual inquiry that feels both personal and deeply reflective.

Sofia’s installations are often shaped by two recurring themes: voyeurism and silence. Voyeurism emerged from a quiet curiosity about people in public spaces, eventually growing into a broader investigation of power, visibility, and the psychology of being watched. Sofia also explores the idea that true silence doesn’t really exist. There’s always something lingering: a sound, an energy, an echo. In her installations, silence often holds more weight than sound, acting as a force that invites deeper attention and awareness.

Through all of her projects, Sofia challenges the conventions of spectatorship. She creates immersive experiences that encourage viewers to slow down, listen more closely, and question what’s visible, what’s hidden, and how we construct meaning from what we perceive.

We asked Sofia about her art, creative process, and inspirations.

Can you tell us about your background as a digital artist? How did you get started in this field?

I’m not sure exactly when it began, but I remember, at some point in my adolescence, watching Inland Empire, by David Lynch. It left a lasting impression — the confusion, the lingering sense of unresolved emotion — it all stayed with me somewhere in my unconscious. Every time I revisit it, I discover something new, and that process of reinterpretation has deeply influenced how I approach art.

My formal journey into digital art took shape during my BA in Fine Art at Central Saint Martins. There, I began merging traditional techniques with digital media to explore philosophical and psychological themes. As a foreign student, I initially struggled with language, which pushed me to become more expressive through visual forms. That limitation ultimately shaped the way I communicate as an artist.

The camera was my first digital medium, since I was driven by a fascination with observing people. Over time, my practice expanded into video, sound, and immersive installations. I became more interested in creating experiences rather than static visuals, always searching for new ways to engage the viewer on emotional, sensory, and conceptual levels.

For me, art isn’t just about what we see — it’s about what we feel, the questions we ask, and our attempt to make sense of what often resists understanding.

Sofia Malemina, *Abiogenesis* exhibition. Photo: Svetlana Redozubova.

What draws you to immersive installations, and how do you approach creating an engaging audience experience?

My practice unfolds at the intersection of the physical and digital, reality and fantasy. I am drawn to immersive installations because they allow for a deeper connection, transforming the viewer from a passive observer into an active participant. This mirrors our generation’s craving for emotional, interactive, and multi-sensory experiences.

For me, engagement begins with emotion. I’m interested in how a space can make someone feel — how it can disorient, soothe, or provoke thought. The outcomes are often unpredictable, and I welcome that. In the multisensorial installation Emptiness, for example, some participants instinctively began to scream or create loud noise to activate the work — a raw form of emotional release. In contrast, Abiogenesis, my recent installation presented at my solo exhibition at Art’otel London Hoxton, was described as meditative, though its conceptual core explores tension, evolution, and transformation. In my video work, I often use erratic rhythms and visual dissonance to create a sense of uncertainty and disbelief.

I approach each project as an open system, where narrative, sound, image, and space come together to create a layered emotional experience.

Fragment of *Abiogenesis*, Sofia Malemina, 2024

Silence and voyeurism are recurring themes in your work. What fascinates you about these concepts, and how do they shape your artistic narrative?

Initially, silence and voyeurism weren’t deliberate themes — they emerged organically through lived experience and creative inquiry. Voyeurism began as a quiet curiosity, a tendency to observe people in public spaces. Over time, it evolved into a deeper investigation of perception, power, and visibility. My work gradually began incorporating elements of surveillance and staged observation, exploring not just the act of looking, but the psychological shift that occurs when one becomes aware of being seen.

Silence, too, proved more layered than it first appeared. I came to understand that true silence doesn’t exist — there’s always a trace of presence, a residue of sound or energy. In my installations, silence functions as an active force: it holds tension, evokes presence, and often speaks more powerfully than words or noise.

These ideas come together in The Vacuum, a video-sound piece which removes visuals entirely, referencing Malevich’s Black Square and the concept of Nothingness. The layered audio, recorded during One Day in Silence, reveals the inescapable noise within supposed stillness. The work will soon be part of a group exhibition in Kraków, inviting reflection on presence and perception.

Together, silence and voyeurism continue to guide my creative process. They shape immersive environments that ask the viewer to look and listen more carefully — to question what is real, what is hidden, and how perception constructs experience.

Fragment of *Unknown Diary*, Sofia Malemina, video artwork, 2022

What role does sound play in your multimedia installations, and how do you integrate it with your visual elements?

Sound, like colour or imagery, shapes perception — it’s not just a background, but a key part of mood, emotion, and narrative. In some of my works, sound and visuals are tightly woven together, forming a unified rhythm where shifts in audio directly influence the movement, tone, or pacing of the visual elements. This creates a fluid and immersive experience in which both senses are engaged in sync.

In other words, sound plays a more contrasting role, working against the visual narrative to create tension, dissonance, or unexpected emotional cues. This contrast can heighten awareness, destabilise perception, or bring out hidden layers within the piece.

Sometimes, a single, unplanned sound can become the catalyst for an entire concept. My process is often intuitive — sound can emerge as a guide, disrupting or reinforcing the visuals in ways that aren’t always logical, but deeply felt.

*Self-Portrait Machine* (Sketch fragment), Sofia Malemina, 2024

What are you currently working on, and what new directions or technologies are you interested in exploring?

I am currently working on the video component of Self-Portrait Machine, an immersive project that explores the boundaries of identity and authorship between artificial intelligence and human perception. The short film follows a protagonist who gradually dissolves into a digital illusion, losing control over her image and existence. It presents a different perspective on AI’s evolving role and its implications for humanity.

As an installation, Self-Portrait Machine extends beyond the screen by incorporating physical artifacts from the film’s universe, blurring the lines between fiction and reality. By merging film and physical space, the project creates an environment where the audience experiences reality within reality.

Beyond this, I am particularly interested in AI-generated and hybrid art forms that merge the physical and digital. I’m excited by the possibilities of co-creating with AI, influencing narratives and shaping perception. I want to continue developing immersive spaces where algorithmic imagery challenges our understanding of reality.

*Self-Portrait Machine* (Sketch fragments), Sofia Malemina, 2024

Have there been any surprising or memorable responses to your work?

Viewer reactions often differ from what I anticipate, which I find fascinating. Observing these responses helps me refine my ideas and expand my philosophical explorations. Audiences inevitably project their personal experiences onto my work, just as a song lyric or film scene can trigger deep emotions, so can visual art. This dynamic is both beautiful and insightful, often inspiring new creative directions.

Your practice explores the interplay between physical and virtual spaces. How do you see this relationship evolving in the digital age?

As technology advances, the boundaries between physical and virtual spaces continue to dissolve. My recent video piece Equilibrium reflects this tension — here, the human body moves in sync with fluid digital elements, appearing both tangible and spectral, real yet otherworldly.

Technology redefines the human body, making it simultaneously exposed and fragmented. The viewer becomes a voyeur, witnessing an act that is both intimate and detached. At the same time, the viewer also becomes the performer, curating their digital presence, selectively revealing and concealing aspects of themselves.

This evolving relationship challenges our notions of perception, identity, and authenticity. As these boundaries continue to shift, our interaction with both physical and digital spaces will deepen, transforming the way we experience reality.

Fragment of *Equilibrium*, Sofia Malemina, video artwork, 2024

What is a fun fact about you?

I always panic when asked this question — it’s hard to encapsulate something “fun” in just a sentence. But upon reflection, I find that I draw inspiration from the most unexpected moments in everyday life. A passing conversation, a fleeting observation, or a simple interaction can spark a whole cascade of ideas by the end of the day. I’m always jotting down notes, capturing references, and keeping everything organised, though in a way that may appear a bit chaotic.

What else fills your time when you’re not creating art?

When I am not creating art, I spend a significant amount of time in self-reflection, constantly exploring meaning, purpose, and the philosophy of our world. I’m particularly intrigued by well-thought-out, constructed universes within works of art or other concepts. My naturally inquisitive and analytical nature drives me to deconstruct ideas, and fortunately, this introspective tendency fuels my creative process, making my artistic career a natural extension of my interests.