I never even dreamt of working at Art. Lebedev Studio, even for a month—everything about it seemed so sacred and iconic. I had always been a huge fan of Tema, but admired him from a distance, never trying to get closer, as if I was watching TV.
And then this happened—I spent a month side by side with the legends. So how did it turn out?
First, I started to believe in myself. After all, it’s not gods who make pots. Not that I’m disappointed, but I realized that they are living people who work, create and argue. They are real! And—this may sound ungodly—probably even use the studio’s designer toilets.
Second, I am, of course, ashamed of my failures, inability to concentrate and so on. When you have a lot of specific (or non-specific) tasks, you see at once how time slips through your fingers. You are always pressed for time and leave after midnight thinking: why doesn’t the metro work 24/7?
The studio isn’t perfect. It adds to your knowledge of the world and helps to resolve your inner conflict with your ideal alter ego. It puts your mind at ease.
For me, it’s either working at the studio, or having your own business. There’s hardly any other place with less bureaucracy and boredom. There’re not so many companies that are familiar to a German philosopher who came from Munich to intern at Moscow State University, your grandmother who lives at the outskirts of Moscow and your aunt from the Urals.
Tema really is a PR genius. And a very charming man. It was all worth it if only for the chance of meeting him. That basically means that I achieved my minimum goal.
Not yet sure about the maximum.