At first glance, Anry Tyurín’s works evoke a dark, dreamlike memory. Beneath these images lies an intense inner narrative carried from childhood to the present day. The artist, who brings together digital production, craftsmanship, and artificial intelligence in the same universe, transforms his images into a living atmosphere rather than static objects.
There is a strong, dark, and surreal atmosphere in your work. Is this aesthetic a conscious choice for you, or did it develop naturally over time?
This aesthetic has been with me since early childhood. I am the son of a priest and grew up in a deeply religious environment. Even though my parents are genuinely kind people, the atmosphere of conservatism and rigid dogma always felt uncomfortable to me. From a very young age, I had to suppress my shadow sides, and I understood early on that, for better or worse, this way of life was not meant for me.
We see you combining digital art, handmade production, and, more recently, AI. How do these three elements balance each other in your practice?
I see AI as one of the tools within my creative pipeline. I don’t like placing full responsibility for the final result on AI or creating work purely from a prompt, because in that case the image often loses its uniqueness and turns into an averaged kind of visual content — the type you can see multiple times a day on social media. I consider myself deeply obsessive about art and process, so it’s important to me that every detail of my visuals is carefully thought through and carries my design language.
I use AI as a refinement tool for post-production, for enhancing my original materials, for translating my own designs and sketches into realism, or for animating ideas that already exist within my universe. That’s why it slightly bothers me when people who know nothing about my process label me simply as an ‘AI artist,’ or say that everything was made by AI in one prompt. This narrows and devalues the work behind it; the manual retouching, editing, the creation of physical avant-garde objects, and the fact that I often bring my own sketches to life through AI rather than replacing the creative process with it. For me, this hybrid approach allows my visual universe to expand and helps me communicate my ideas and meanings more precisely to the audience.
You use Instagram not just as a sharing platform, but almost like a living archive. Is social media a showcase for you, or is it part of your production?
I’ve always perceived social media as my own artistic gallery, or even as a universe that I build and invite people into. It’s not just a place to share finished works, but a living space where my ideas, characters, and visual language evolve over time. For me, social media is both an archive and an extension of my creative practice. It allows the work to exist in motion — to grow, transform, and interact with the audience rather than remain static.
Anry_Tyurin_4.jpg
Themes of the body, identity, and alienation frequently emerge in your visuals. Are these themes drawn from personal experiences, or are they an observation of the spirit of the times?
I think it’s both — deeply personal and closely connected to the spirit of the times. As I mentioned earlier, for a long period of my life I suppressed my shadow sides. Only over time did I learn how to acknowledge them and work with them, and this process is clearly reflected in the evolution of my visual language. Different eras of my art feel like stages of dialogue with my unconscious. Each phase represents a new level of understanding, acceptance, and transformation; both of myself and of the world I’m observing.
What do you think is the greatest freedom and the greatest trap of producing art in the digital age?
The greatest freedom of making art in the digital age is the ability to share your universe with the entire world — without geographical limits, without gatekeepers, and with the ability to find like-minded people anywhere on the planet.
The greatest trap, for me, is the temptation to please everyone. As your audience grows, you’re suddenly being watched by people with completely different values, religions, political views, and ways of seeing the world. In that situation, the most important thing is not to lose yourself by trying to fit everyone’s expectations or by being afraid of offending someone. When that happens, your voice becomes diluted, your identity fades, and eventually you risk disappearing altogether. I’ve been through that phase myself. Now I don’t try to hold on to every follower — instead, I invite people into my universe. If it resonates with them, I’m genuinely happy to have them there. If not, that’s their choice, and I respect it.
There is a strong fluidity between cinema, fashion, and visual arts in your work. Which discipline inspires you the most and why?
Like many creative people, I’m deeply inspired by life. There are so many possibilities, so many creative directions, that sometimes you want to become everything you could possibly be in one lifetime. But I’ve learned that if I stay unfocused and try to do everything at once, I won’t become truly professional in anything. That’s why I chose a few core disciplines and genres that genuinely resonate with my heart.
By combining these different languages, I’m able to interact with the world in a much more precise and honest way. I love art, cinema, and fashion equally, and within my universe, one cannot exist without the others. They naturally complement each other and together make me feel whole. Very soon, I’ll also begin releasing my own music and directing music videos, which excites me immensely. Music is another language, another way for me to speak, to translate emotions, and to expand my universe even further.
“I am the son of a priest and grew up in a deeply religious environment. Even though my parents are genuinely kind people, the atmosphere of conservatism and rigid dogma always felt uncomfortable.”
You seem to be more interested in the disturbing or uncanny than the ‘pleasant.’ What kind of feeling do you want to leave with the viewer?
At different periods of my life, I’m drawn to different things, but I agree that the dark and unsettling tend to evoke stronger emotions in me. My goal is to show that the world is not black and white, that external beauty and pleasantness don’t always reflect what’s happening inside. Sometimes the inner world can be darker than night. And at the same time, something that appears ugly or disturbing at first glance can be truly beautiful and full of light in its essence. I’m interested in this tension, in the contrast between surface and depth and in inviting the viewer to look beyond what feels comfortable or familiar.
AI is a controversial area for many artists. Do you see it as a threat, a tool, or a new creative partner?
Like any new tool, AI has caused strong reactions in society: fear, resistance, and even hostility. I can understand both sides. For example, I’m personally not inspired by art that is built almost entirely on AI alone and lacks a unique artistic voice or any sense of manual craft. At the same time, I don’t believe such practices should be forbidden or dismissed outright. Their emergence is completely predictable, and it remains a personal choice for each creator. Paradoxically, it’s often against the background of this kind of work that truly interesting, thoughtful, and innovative projects become even more visible.
This has happened many times before. At one point, 3D artists were not considered ‘real’ artists. Before that, photographers faced the same scepticism. And even earlier, conservatives refused to take Impressionists seriously. It’s a recurring cycle in the history of art. There’s no way around it — what’s needed is time.
Among the works you’ve produced so far, has there been a turning point that transformed you aesthetically or intellectually?
I think my very first works, inspired by sleep paralysis and by the desire to sublimate my inner experiences into art, were the most transformative for me. They marked my first major turning point. The second turning point happened three years ago with the death of my younger brother. We spent our entire childhood and adolescence together, sharing one room for eighteen years. This event completely reshaped my way of thinking and my relationship with life. It taught me to live each day fully, without waiting for validation or approval from others. Everything that followed has become a long, fascinating, lifelong journey of self-discovery through art.
Anry_Tyurin_13.jpg
There is almost no personal information about you on the internet. Is this invisibility a conscious choice, or has it developed naturally over time?
I think it happened naturally. I used to be more closed off because of the environment I grew up in and had to navigate. I never felt the need to speak about myself in a direct or explicit way. Instead, I chose to communicate with the world primarily through my visuals.
When you are completely detached from your work, when you are not creating, who is Anry Tyurín? What are the things that truly calm or nourish you in daily life?
In everyday life, I’d say I’m quite a multifaceted person. I’m kind and warm with those who are kind to me. I love joking and being ironic. I’m very dreamy and often have my head in the clouds. At the same time, I’m still deeply obsessed with art and constantly generating new ideas — probably exhausting the people around me sometimes (laughs).
Is there a routine, relationship, or space in your personal life that brings you balance? How does your creative process relate to this balance?
Yes, I consciously build a community around myself of free-thinking, driven people. It’s important to me that anyone who enters my close circle is not toxic or suppressive — this is a strong trigger for me due to my life experience. I’m also in a loving relationship with a wonderful person, and we’ve been supporting each other for almost two years now.
Anry_Tyurin_19.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_8.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_7.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_12.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_9.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_10.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_18.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_11.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_15.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_16.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_2.jpg
Anry_Tyurin_3.jpg