Olena Tolstokora: Ukrainian Artist Giving ‘Hopecore’ New Meaning

Olena Tolstokora, or as many of her online followers would know her as, @bravebirdie, is a Ukrainian artist currently living and working in Vancouver. Sharing her work online first in 2021, Tolstokora has amassed over 40,000 followers across Instagram and Tiktok, and has shown in galleries across Europe, Japan and Canada. Her simplistic cartoon renderings touch on ideas of nostalgia, trauma and trends of “hopecore” – an internet aesthetic based on the hope for humanity.

Tolstokora grew up in Kharkiv and later settled in Canada, where childhood memories continued to shape her work. Her father was a radio show host on Utrechko; her mother an actress at the Shevchenko Drama Theater and later cultural journalist. Tolstokora comments that because of her parents, “I met so many incredible people – Ukrainian artists, poets, musicians, performers, and writers. Those experiences greatly impacted me, expanding my perspective and immersing me in the creative world from a young age.”

Olena Tolstokora in her studio

Her interest in drawing took off after meeting her mentor, Vitalii Kulikov, a well-regarded Ukrainian artist, graphic designer and illustrator, guiding Tolstokora through more than just art. “He was my mentor and my teacher. Learning from him wasn’t just about drawing – it was about understanding how to see, feel, and live through art. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have had that experience,” she says. She also notes a deep interest in a fusion between Ukrainian culture and Japanese contemporary art, with influences of Ukrainian artists Roman Minin and Nikita Kadan, as well as Japanese animators and illustrators, Hayao Miyazaki and Yoshimoto Nara.

Other Topics of Interest

Kyiv Weighs Participation in Gdańsk Recovery Conference

Foreign Minister Andrii Sybiha announced that Kyiv will decide on Monday whether to attend the upcoming Ukraine Recovery Conference in Gdańsk.

In terms of her creative output, Tolstokora has a wildly child-like approach – the cartoonish figures scrawled on raw canvas, the pastels leaving a crayon-like texture. Yet as she reflects on personal emotions and memories, they become eerily heavier. “Adulthood, empathy and war aren’t abstract things to me – they’re things that I’ve lived through and that have shaped me,” she highlights, adding that “empathy is at the core of what I do.” 

She explores the interplay between the seen and unseen, tapping into the void between childhood and adulthood when “reality hits like cold water.” Beyond cute bunny costumes and winter boots is a coldness, unsettling like a “memory that doesn’t quite belong to you anymore.” 

Yet even behind the empty eyes of her figures, Tolstokora’s biggest aim is for her work to connect with quiet emotions, “even when I touch on heavy themes, there’s always a thread of hope.” It’s this idea that grass will grow over battlefields, the silent notes of raw untouched canvas speak to the hope of the new beginnings that come after tragedy. As Tolstokora puts it: “It’s not just about war itself but about what comes after, the fragility of human ambition, and how time eventually covers everything”.

Olena Tolstokora, GRWM to Experience Nuclear Terror (as part of Meet Me at the Playground series), oil pigment on canvas, 2024

One of her most poignant series is “Meet Me at the Playground” (2024-ongoing), a collection of drawings and mixed media sculptures that blend plush toys and lanterns with Tolstokora’s now iconic style to redefine our understanding of time as adults through transformative events. The process is directly connected to her experiences, with the oil pigment drawing, “This Room is not Mine” (2024) having been made after a visit to Ukraine. 

“My dad wasn’t in the military yet and lived in a small town in western Ukraine,” she recalls. “There was a kid’s room, too, and I slept there. Same blue walls [as her Kharkiv apartment], same furniture, same dolphin puzzle on the wall, same CDs, same old computer. Even the shelves and door handles were the same. But the place wasn’t mine.” 

The toy rocking horse figure plays between ideas of war horses – its stylisation similar to “My Little Pony” and other cute little figurines. But as the horse looks angrily away from the audience, we can see it is much more than a child’s toy. Drawn in shades of red, even its cheek is flushed crimson, it shows an aggression. The smoking cigarette and bright red blood escaping bandaids speaks to not only the history of war-horses as cannon fodder but a newly developing history of children and young adults becoming innocent casualties, their futures scarred and their lives irreparably altered by the brutal realities of conflict.

Olena Tolstokora, This Room is Not Mine, oil pigment on canvas, 2024

Through her art, Olena Tolstokora captures the complexity of navigating trauma, nostalgia, and hope, using a playful yet haunting visual language. Sharing her work on platforms like Instagram and TikTok, she connects with a growing global audience and offers a glimpse into her personal experiences and the emotional depth behind her creations. 

Her online presence allows her to communicate not only her artistic journey but also the deeply personal and collective experiences of war, displacement, and resilience. Tolstokora’s ability to blend childlike innocence with raw, unsettling imagery gives her art a profound sense of vulnerability, which resonates with her followers who are navigating their own emotional landscapes, offering both connection and healing. 

As her work continues to evolve, Tolstokora remains committed to creating art that not only speaks to her generation’s struggles, but also offers the fragile hope of recovery, showing that even amidst destruction there is space for renewal and growth.