Nikita Orlov was born in 1996 in Simferopol and now lives and works in Moscow.
His artistic practice constitutes a study of the fundamental categories of boundary and transition. It approaches painting not as the creation of an image, but as a meditative process of materializing the very act of perception, wherein the method of layering becomes a central metaphor.

The technical foundation is a synthesis of two material states: the heavy, opaque tones of acrylic paint and the transparency of acrylic gel. This mixture is applied to the surface of unprimed linen canvas, preserving a dialogue with the natural texture and "breath" of the support. The process adheres to a strict, almost ritualistic routine: only a single layer of a predetermined tonality and transparency is applied and meticulously smoothed with a palette knife each day. This irreversible and temporally extended approach transforms each work into a material cast of sustained concentration, a polished cross-section of time.

The fate of the boundary becomes the central object of inquiry within this process. The practice develops in two complementary directions that explore its nature. In one instance, the initial, clearly defined geometric divisions of space (suggestions of an architectonic form) gradually lose their graphic sharpness through the multi-layered application. They "submerge" into the accruing optical depth, softening and dissolving, becoming a ghostly memory of the very idea of structure. In the other instance, the boundary is instead asserted as an absolute and irrevocable threshold—a distinct line of separation between fundamentally different states of material and space. Both approaches are facets of a single line of questioning: what separates form from emptiness, the internal from the external, controlled intention from the sovereign will of the material?

The works are born from a constant tension between these poles. Planning and chance, the ritualistic repetition of gesture and sensitive improvisation in dialogue with the unpredictability of a drying layer, culminate in a result that could be called the "only possible configuration"—not an illustration of an idea, but its direct and unbiased embodiment.

In the final stage, visible structure may give way to complex optical effects. Contrasting yet translucent layers, showing through one another, generate an illusion of inner radiance, that very "glow in the silence." These ephemeral zones, devoid of clear contours, become the true "apertures"—points of egress from the discourse of forms into the immediacy of pure perception, into the space of contemplative experience.

Thus, the works are offered to the viewer not as static objects, but as distinct environments that invite slow and attentive immersion. They invite one to undertake a journey parallel to the process of their creation: from the initial question concerning the nature of the boundary—to the silent experience of its transgression or its absoluteness.