Ukrainian architect Florian Illich Yuriev, the multi-talented subject of Oleksiy Radynski's 2022 documentary, has a unique way of looking at things. He perceives music, for instance, in visual terms, and each key on his piano has a corresponding color. "Music doesn't mean anything to me by itself--only when it's with color," he explains. Yuriev, who was profoundly affected by the Northern Lights when he was a child, finds color without music just as meaningless.
Yuriev is also a musician, painter, violin maker, and poet. He has a poetic way of speaking, and the walls of his office are filled with paintings that recall the work of Hilma af Klint or Wassily Kandinsky with rounded shapes and candy-coated colors.
Yuriev's Institute of Scientific, Technical and Economic Information, known colloquially as the UFO or Flying Saucer building, has been standing or "floating" over Kiev for four decades, even as the neighborhood has undergone a profound shift. In fact, an investor hopes to use Yuriev's building as the entrance to a gargantuan shopping mall, an idea the architect and many community members find repugnant, not least because it could damage the structure. Fate, however, has other plans.
Though he looks healthy enough for a man in his late-80s, Yuriev tells an admirer that he has cancer. It's terminal, but slow-moving, and he doesn't let it stop him from exhibiting and protecting his work while he still can. Though he's hardly the gloomy sort, he has some experience with adversity, since he served lengthy stays at a Siberian concentration camp, starting in childhood, and though he doesn't mention it, his father took his own life after his third arrest by Russian authorities.
Yuriev spends the rest of the film attending events centered on his work and deciding what's most important before he passes. "I need to complete my own life," he says, as if he were art itself, which isn't too far off the mark. The architect lives long enough to celebrate his 90th birthday, though he would pass away the following year. Nonetheless, the Flying Saucer building remains intact. Due to the efforts of Yuriev and his supporters, it seems likely to stay that way in perpetuity.
By focusing on the last year of his life, the documentary doesn't serve as a comprehensive portrait, and there's no information about his private life--possibly a stipulation on his part--but it offers a first-person look at his talents and priorities. It's a worthy approach, though mention of a few other architectural projects would have been welcome.
Infinity According to Florian isn’t an overtly political film either, not least because it was made prior to the Russian invasion of Ukraine, though it’s clear that Yuriev paid the price, at times, for his outspokenness and refusal to adhere to Soviet principles, but he continued to create, to speak out, and as an instructor, to encourage his students to do the same.
Though Florian Yuriev’s name may be unfamiliar to most Americans, Oleksiy Radynski has made an inspiring film about a man who deserves recognition beyond the borders of a country where art continues to thrive despite the challenges. Recommended.
Why should public and academic libraries add this Ukrainian art documentary to their collections?
Infinity According to Florian offers an intimate look at Ukrainian architect and multidisciplinary artist Florian Yuriev during the final year of his life, capturing his creative philosophy, architectural legacy, and lifelong commitment to artistic integrity. For public libraries, the film introduces viewers to a remarkable figure whose work bridges architecture, music, color theory, and visual art, making it a strong choice for patrons interested in global art history and underrecognized voices. For academic libraries, Yuriev’s synesthetic approach to creativity and his fight to preserve the Flying Saucer building provide valuable material for courses in architecture, design, Eastern European studies, and Soviet-era cultural history. The documentary’s focus on artistic preservation and cultural resilience also resonates with students studying community activism and heritage protection.
Is this Ukrainian art documentary a good fit for community or campus screenings?
Yes. The film’s reflective tone and focus on creativity, memory, and cultural stewardship make it well suited for community screenings that highlight international artists or architectural preservation efforts. Its accessible structure and first-person perspective encourage discussion about how art shapes public life and how artists protect their work against political and commercial pressures. On college campuses, it can support programming in architecture departments, fine arts programs, and courses examining the role of artists under Soviet rule. While not a comprehensive biography, the film provides rich insights into Yuriev’s worldview and the lasting impact of his work, offering ample material for moderated conversations and interdisciplinary dialogue.
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