Entering Dream Vision, the landmark exhibition of renowned Russian artist Nikas Safronov, is like stepping into a dream — surreal, breath-takingly beautiful paintings, moving floral artworks, and immersive installations transport you to a world you never imagined. This exhibition isn’t about perfect details; it’s about feeling — a space where classical art meets memories, imagination and quiet, emotional pauses between sleep and reality.
The ongoing Mumbai edition at the National Gallery of Modern Art offers an equally immersive experience. Featuring 45 paintings spanning classical techniques, symbolism, landscapes, and Safronov’s signature ‘Dream Vision’ style, the works were created for Indian audiences and reflect the country’s spirituality, mythology, and history.
Enhanced with immersive multimedia, AI elements, and spatial sound design, this entirely non-commercial exhibition forms part of a Russia–India cultural initiative supported by Rosneft. Safronov, People’s Artist of the Russian Federation, has painted over 50 heads of state and figures including Prime Minister Narendra Modi, Donald Trump, Pope Francis, Meryl Streep, and Elton John.
In conversation with Indulge Express, the artist speaks about learning to see beyond public images during the Soviet era, his emotional connection with India shaped by Raj Kapoor’s films, and how Indian spirituality and goddess imagery entered his work. Through Dream Vision, he describes art as a way to live through a volatile world — seeking silence, meaning, and inner balance rather than escape.
You’ve painted people from very different worlds — from global leaders like our Prime Minister Narendra Modi to spiritual figures and cultural icons. Looking back at your early years in Russia, what first taught you to really see someone beyond their public image?
Probably life in the Soviet era. People then rarely had the freedom to be fully open... much of what they felt had to remain inside. I learned early on that the outer image rarely matches what is happening within a person.
An artist learns to look not at the role, but at the pause between words, at the eyes, at inner silence. That is where the real person lives, regardless of status or fame.
Some of the works in this exhibition show elements of Indian culture, including Hindu goddesses. How did encountering these traditions inspire you, and how do you blend your own vision with India’s rich spiritual and artistic heritage?
Indian tradition struck me with the absence of a strict division between the sacred and the human. Goddesses here are not distant... they live in emotion, movement, and nature.
I did not want to illustrate mythology literally. What mattered to me was the inner energy of these images, their light, and allowing them to pass through my own perception. It is always a dialogue — respectful and personal.
India and Russia share a long history of cultural exchange, from Raj Kapoor’s films to decades of artistic dialogue. How have these connections shaped your understanding of India, and did they influence the way you approached the works in this exhibition?
For my generation, India began with cinema, music, and powerful emotion. Raj Kapoor’s films in Russia were not simply entertainment... they taught empathy and openness of feeling.
That emotional connection stayed with me for life. So when I worked on this exhibition, I didn’t feel India as a “foreign” culture, but as something close and familiar. I’m grateful that this project became possible with the support of Rosneft Oil Company, which consistently supports cultural dialogue between our countries.
The exhibition is called Dream Vision. In a world that often feels volatile, with war and human suffering around us, what does “dream vision” mean to you personally, and how do you find hope or refuge through your art?
For me, Dream Vision is not an escape from reality, but a way of living through it. A dream is a space where a person remains honest with themselves... free from slogans and explanations.
When the world becomes too harsh, art allows us to preserve inner balance. I’m not searching for comfort, I’m searching for meaning and silence. And if a viewer finds even a small sense of light or calm there, then the work has not been in vain.