5.12.2025—2.1.2026

Leik Silvetrini’s Hug me like you mean it -exhibition consisting of soft works whose intention is to be engaged with. Through the tedious, all-consuming slow labour of handsewing, Leik contemplates the emotional turmoil of witnessing a loved one trapped in an abusive relationship while grappling with one’s own marginalization within a family that refuses to see them.

Between innocent, toylike objects, intimate confessions and quiet despair, the exhibition is a struggle for relief, authenticity and connection in a culture that devalues emotional expression in favor of control. You may touch, punch, hug etc. all the works in the exhibition.

“I came across a photo of you on facebook. I see clearly that your smile is fake and your eyes are dead, not even meeting the camera. You don’t know this, or maybe you do, but I often cry thinking about you. This photo devastated me. It is stabbing me in the heart that you are stuck in this life. I left many years ago. Just a couple of months ago we were dreaming together about your way out of this – “now you would do it for sure”, you declared with certainty.

But last time we talked on the phone, I decided to be direct with you and asked how you were feeling about leaving her. You told me that you reconsidered. I had been worried that that would happen, that you would go back to your fucked up version of normality and think this is what you have to settle for because you don’t want to be alone. I understand you, but I don’t want you to endure an insufferable life. But I’m also exhausted from being the helper when there is no solution in sight. I feel like me not being able to help you out of the violence is my personal failure. I want you to leave her so that I can have a relationship with you.

Last Christmas we had to meet in secret. You literally had to lie to be able to meet your own child in a café for a couple of hours. Do you hear how sick that is? On Christmas Eve I couldn’t hold it together, broke down in tears and rushed into the room where Lucy was sleeping. Uncontrollable tears running down my face as I stroked her soft fur. She was purring and doing that thing with her paws and claws. No bullshit chitchat, no facade to be upheld. I hear whispering in the living room, what is going on with HER? It is just the tip of the iceberg that they never get my pronouns right despite how many times I correct them. I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to leave without saying goodbye, but still dutifully stayed, played along with my red face and swollen eyes. I felt ashamed for not being able to just sit around the table.

I can’t play pretend anymore. I promised myself never to do this again. December comes again, asking for holiday joy I cannot summon.I go to numb myself in the karaoke bar.”

This small town hasn’t got room for my big feelings.

Leik Silvestrini (b. 1995, they/them) is a queer non-binary Oslo-born and Helsinki-based performance- and visual artist; an observer, collector, feeler, doer and lover striving for warmth, trust, softness, openness and care in everything they do. Their work is relational, processual and playfully serious, growing from everyday situations and vibrating in the meeting between the fantastical and physical reality.

They hold an MFA of Time & Space Arts from the Fine Arts Academy of Helsinki (2024) and a BFA from the Art Academy of Bergen (2020). They are one of the organizers of the queer autonomous DIY gallery Kiss my ARS in Helsinki and one of the engines behind PAU!’s Open Home Performance Festival.