We speak with Bulgarian-French artist Stefan Nikolaev, who holds a special place in DOT Sofia’s heart, about the price of love, shared vision, and the role of contemporary art in a world of accelerating change.
You can visit The Price of Love at Sarieva@DOT Sofia until 15 November.
Hello, Stefan!
This autumn, we meet again at DOT Sofia to mark the opening of your new solo exhibition, The Price of Love. Could you tell us more about it?
The Price of Love is an exhibition initiated by Vesselina Sarieva. She invited me, and I was very happy to return to Sarieva@DOT Sofia.
With The Price of Love, I did not try to put a value on love, but rather to present it as I see it and leave the viewers to make their own judgment. And the audience has indeed made its assessment. The conclusion seems to be that love continues to command a high price…
For this exhibition, I brought together works that are truly important to me at this point in my life. Over time, I have come to understand more and more that perhaps the only thing that really matters in art is the transfer of emotions. These can take many forms – beautiful, joyful, powerful, sometimes even contradictory. But whatever they are, they need to be strong enough to reach the viewer.
For this exhibition, I made a conscious effort to select and create works capable of having that impact. It was conceived almost entirely specifically for Sarieva@DOT Sofia, with a few exceptions, of course. Most of the works are entirely new and bring together a wide variety of techniques, formats and images that currently occupy my mind and carry deeply personal stories.
Many of them are works I have made myself – painted, assembled, modelled or sculpted. Of course, much of the credit also goes to the people I have the pleasure of working with at Markovstudio, as well as to the neon works produced with the help of Miroslav Dimitrov, who is a true master of glass. Even there, however, I am very directly involved in the process, from the initial concept and the form to the final result.
This is something that has increasingly occupied my attention in recent years: being physically involved in the making of my works, participating as much as possible in their creation, and being the author not only of the image but also of its material construction.
They say that in life we receive the kind of love we are ready to accept. In that sense, do we have to pay a certain price, taking the risk of connecting with another person?
Love is perhaps the subject that has been written about, sung about, painted, photographed and talked about more than any other. It is a subject on which everything has already been said, and yet it is never enough.
Jacques Lacan said: “To love is to give something you don't have to someone who doesn't want it.” Somewhere I once read that “the price we pay for love is grief.” Perhaps love really does have a price, and perhaps it is best to understand it in time. When we love, we should be prepared to pay that price upfront, because otherwise we risk receiving a rather hefty bill in the end.
Your works often bring together monumentality and fragility, everyday objects and iconic imagery. What symbols find their place in The Price of Love?
Yes, that's right. You've captured the essence of what I do very well. My works often bring together contrasts between the solid and the fragile, strength and weakness, the large and the small.
As for symbols, I have always sought to make my art accessible to as wide an audience as possible, while preserving its artistic rigour and ambition.
The exhibition also marks the first presentation of an extensive trilingual monograph dedicated to your work, featuring contributions by writers and curators such as Christine Macel, Rose Vidal, Hans Ulrich Obrist and Svetlana Kuyumdzhieva. What prompted the publication to come out this year in particular?
This publication was prompted by the love of several people for my work. I say this with a certain degree of self-irony, of course, but yes, this book was made with a great deal of love – at a high price.
Its realisation was made possible thanks to a group of people who clearly love what I do, and I am immensely grateful to them.
The book was published by Dilecta in Paris, who were keen to bring this project to life. However, the idea was largely driven by my galleries, Michel Rein and Sarieva, who kept pushing and advocating for the project until it finally came to fruition.
Fortunately, the book came out this year, at a very fitting moment. Its first presentation took place at Sarieva@DOT Sofia, followed by a presentation with Michel Rein at Art Basel Paris.
The content of the book is also extremely important to me, as it brings together writers whose work I greatly admire. Svetlana Kuyumdzhieva has written a wonderful analysis of my art, interpreting it through her own perspective. Svetlana Mircheva created the magnificent design of the book, for which I am truly grateful.
Among the contributors are also people whose presence in this monograph means a great deal to me: Christine Macel, one of the most significant figures in contemporary art; Hans Ulrich Obrist, whom I hardly need to introduce – an extraordinary generator and conduit of ideas and energy; and Rose Vidal, a young writer who has contributed a beautifully poetic text.
This book is not simply a collection of images or an illustrated history of my works. It brings together texts, interviews and analyses that explore my practice in depth. Perhaps this is the first time my work has received such extensive attention.
Your collaboration with Sarieva / Gallery has been going on for 13 years. What is the secret behind a successful and long-lasting relationship between an artist and a gallery?
There is a truth that Michel Rein often repeats. He once heard it from a mentor of his: “There are artists without galleries, but there are no galleries without artists.”
Sometimes, however, Vesselina makes me question the truth of those words. I think that in some cases we could also say that just as there are no galleries without artists, there are no artists without galleries.
For me, this collaboration is based on mutual understanding, a shared direction and a common horizon, on the desire and need to grow, and on the great pleasure that comes from working together.
Success is undoubtedly a very important part of it. Of course, there are also moments when one makes mistakes, moments of fatigue and even failures. But success is never final, just as failure is never fatal. What matters is having the courage to keep going.
For me, Vesselina is an exceptional working partner. And if I were to answer one of those customer satisfaction survey questions – “On a scale from 0 to 10, how likely are you to recommend Sarieva / Gallery to your friends and family?” – my answer would be: 10!
Recently, your work "The Innocent Eye" – a reference to Picasso's Guernica – was presented by Galerie Michel Rein at Art Basel Paris 2026. In a world of accelerated communication, digital platforms and increasingly widespread access to art, what remains the irreplaceable value of major events such as Art Basel?
The opposite of digital reality is physical reality – fundamental and irreplaceable. Art Basel is a cornerstone of that reality.
Perhaps one day art will become entirely virtual. We may not be able to adapt to that world, but most likely, in some future instalment of Avatar, there will be an Art Basel on another planet, in the world of avatars. Everything there will be digital and will function in a completely different way, with different sensors and different sensations, for which we still lack the necessary understanding.
Art Basel is one of the most remarkable platforms for the exchange of contemporary art. And not only contemporary and modern art, but art from different periods altogether. An extraordinary number of things happen during the fair. On the walls of the participating galleries, you can see masterpieces from both the past and the present.
Art Basel is probably the best that an art fair can bring together. Yes, it is somewhat monopolistic, but perhaps that is the price of success.
In the relationship between the artist, the artwork and the audience, there is another key participant: the space itself, acting as a mediator. What makes DOT Sofia stand out as a meeting point for contemporary artists and urban audiences?
For me, DOT is a kind of expression of modern Bulgaria – of a contemporary understanding of the city, of contrast and of the coexistence of different cultures and aesthetics.
It is located in one of Sofia's oldest neighbourhoods, a place with a rich history and a strong identity. The presence of this contemporary building here creates a wonderful contrast. But this contrast is not artificial. On the contrary, the building fits very naturally into the life around the market and the entire colourful urban environment.
Recently, DOT Sofia hosted an installation by Missirkov and Bogdanov, which explored precisely this distinctive – and, in fact, successful – coexistence of different tastes, smells, architecture and people.
I think this is something entirely natural in major international cities. For people coming from abroad, such diversity is not shocking; it is simply part of everyday urban life.
In this sense, DOT is a truly necessary meeting point. A place where contemporary art is not merely an addition or decoration, but an integral part of the spirit, character and needs of contemporary people.
Last but not least, what are the key projects you're looking forward to today?
Christmas.