Today we’d like to introduce you to Ané Krutova.
Hi Ané, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
It’s hard to choose a single starting point in my story, because I still feel like it’s just beginning. From the moment I decided to dedicate my life to art, I learned that it’s never just about painting, or directing, or performing. In my world, these things braid together. One cannot exist without the others.
If the center of my story is art, then it has always been there. I remember drawing obsessively in vivid colors from day one. While people around me struggled to choose a career path, mine felt obvious. Yet, somehow, I still ended up moving through three different universities before graduating—first fine art, then architecture, and finally fashion design.
I think the truth is that mastering a single field was never my goal. I’ve always wanted to learn more, push further, and keep expanding. This curiosity can slow me down in finishing my personal projects, as I’m often drawn to explore new things along the way. Yet it also reveals my true vocation: not one discipline, but creation itself—and I am honored to honor that.
While I was a student, I worked on film sets as a production designer, and it was there that I discovered the power of shaping a space—and feeling how it subtly influences mood and perception. That awareness still swirls behind me wherever I go. Working in film became a kind of validation: the immersion of using multiple mediums at once—space, costumes, sound, composition, performance, logistics —felt like the most potent form of creation I had ever experienced.
After moving to the US, I found myself drawn into communities of mysticism, mindfulness, and holistic practice. In these circles, I began forming deep female friendships that revealed a truth I hadn’t known: women are not competition—they are mirrors, sisters, and companions in wild authenticity.
One friendship, in particular, challenged every insecurity I held about my worth as a woman. She was unapologetically herself, and I let the shame and comparison move through me rather than holding onto it. Over time, I discovered the joy of witnessing and being witnessed, of laughing, dancing under moonlight, and embracing each other’s raw, untamed selves. This energy—playful, tender, fearless—now pulses at the core of my art.
Around the same time, I stumbled into pole dancing, and it became an obsession that was both physical and spiritual. When injury forced me to slow down, I moved gently around the pole, discovering a new intimacy with my body and a deeper embodiment of femininity.
I became fascinated with what it means to be a woman, and this fascination became the heart of my creative practice—through painting, workshops, and performance. Even as a child, when I tried to draw men, they always looked like women. Perhaps even then, I was already telling this story: a story of womanhood, of embodiment, and of
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Honestly, every creative professional would agree—the road is mostly one big obstacle, with only rare smooth stretches.
When I moved to NYC from Russia in 2019, I thought I could finally be whoever I wanted. But with that freedom came insecurity and self-doubt, which led me into self-destructive behaviors for years. In my first three years, I made only a handful of paintings and felt uninspired. I’m still piecing together the ambitious artist I was before I immigrated.
The obstacles were many: losing inspiration, doubting myself as an artist, and surviving alone in a new country during and after a pandemic. Each challenge forced me to question my path—but with every hurdle, my passion grew stronger.
And yet, I’ve learned a classic artist truth: pain is a devoted muse. Sit with it, and something beautiful emerges—something that can reshape your entire story. That continues to happen for me, teaching me to see rough paths not as setbacks, but as the very fuel of creation.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
My work revolves around storytelling and feminine embodiment. I believe that the way society tells stories today has become flat, missing the subtle nuances—the moments “in between.” Those are the moments I capture in my art. The stories I tell have no functional purpose, no beginning or end. I share what I know intimately, which is why the central character in my work is often a reflection of myself. Think of me as a fictional character who lives on your walls, quietly making sure that muses feel warm and choose to stay.
I once heard that we are born with a human innately attached to us, and that we must take care of that human—or else it will fade. That human is us. I’ve always perceived myself as an immersive experience that others encounter through my presence, my art, or my performance.
How do you think about luck?
I struggle to recognize anything in my life as luck, but I am aware of the multitude of redirections that have shaped the path I’m on today. Most of these detours allowed me to absorb new knowledge, which always finds its way into my creative projects. That’s what makes it easier for me to trust and surrender to the journey now.
One example is having to return to Russia after moving to France at 14—I still wonder what my life would have been like if I had stayed. Yet I know that the intensity of these experiences, especially the feeling of not truly belonging anywhere, shaped me into a curious, adaptive, and open-minded person.
Pricing:
- “Eve’s Garden” (2023) , 47” x 47”, $7600
- “Forgiveness” (2024), 40.5” x 50.5”, $3760
- “Hike” (2025), 30” x 48, $1760
- “Who Am I Today?” (2024), 30.5” x 42”, $2333
- “Sapiosexuality” (2024), 24” x 48”, $2333
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.anekrutova.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ane.creates








