Vlad Darwin: about the new "Star Factory," Honcharenko's conflict with Zavaduk and what young artists are missing

Vlad Darwin was one of the most talented participants of "Star Factory-2." Back then he was a fan of Natalia Mogilevskaya, who was the show's musical producer. After the TV project ended, he even worked on her album. Since then Darwin has written dozens of hits for himself and for colleagues.

Recently Vlad Darwin became a guest star of the reboot of the legendary project on the online platform Sweet TV. In an interview with Korotko pro artist he talked about his impressions of the new show, how he feels about colleagues’ public conflicts, and what, in his opinion, Ukrainian show business needs most.

"The new 'factory' contestants lack basic communication etiquette"

- Vlad, if you compare the old and the new "Factory," what do you think has improved and what, on the contrary, has been lost?

- I don't compare the old seasons with the new one. We started in an era when the internet was only beginning to create a new value space. In 2008 television and radio had a defining influence on shaping public opinion. In the old seasons producers and the audience created new stars from scratch. And today "Star Factory" is a booster platform for ready-made artists with repertoires and images.

I want to single out Alan Badoev (producer — Ed.), who in this project embodies a kind of bridge between the past and the future. Over the years he has grown enormously as a director. His ideas have become more concise, expressive, coherent, and balanced. You can feel the maturity of a master who knows how to achieve maximum artistic effect with precise means.

Ruslan Makhov (production director — Ed.) has also brought his own creative signature to the concert productions, enriching them with new artistic techniques and striking stage solutions. So for me the main difference is not which "Factory" is better, but how times, the music industry, and the mechanism of star-making have changed.

- What do you miss most in the new "Factory" compared to the old one?

- As a viewer and a professional, I find the concert component sufficient. But as a former participant, I miss the depth of creative immersion that the "Star House" provided.

But I also understand well the risks involved in creating such a large-scale show and how difficult it is to implement similar projects in a critical and dangerous time for the capital. Especially given the acute shortage of budget and resources. And despite all these circumstances, the concerts come out rich, dynamic, with unexpected turns and interesting stage solutions.

So I tend to focus not on what the new "Factory" lacks, but on what its creators manage to achieve despite the circumstances. The only "Factory" that, in my opinion, fully realized the "Star House" concept was our "Star Factory 2."

And that house played a decisive role in the project's final result. It became a true creative academy where participants not only prepared for concerts but learned every day, interacted, went through conflicts, trials, and personal transformations. It was a unique experience that cannot be bought with money or obtained at any educational institution.

At the same time, the "Star House" was the most expensive component of the show's production. Its creation and maintenance required colossal resources. And today I find it hard to imagine a producer who would dare to invest such funds in a filming pavilion.

There is a certain regularity here: the most expensive element of the project turned out to be one of the most valuable in terms of the formation of future artists.

- If you could bring something from the old "Factory" into the new season, what would it be?

- I would like to scale the architecture of the reality format — strengthen the educational aspect, add meetings with prominent figures of our time. After all, "Star Factory" is not only about vocals, the stage, and popularity. It's also about forming the artist's personality, worldview, culture, and professional ethics.

For example, some new "factory" contestants sometimes lack basic communication etiquette. A simple example: I'm sitting in the dressing room, preparing for a performance. One contestant comes in, sees me and doesn't even say hello. Another comes in — the same story.

Maybe I sound like an old grumbling man now, but it absolutely doesn't matter who is in that dressing room: a singer, dancer, administrator, or cleaner. When you enter the dressing room, you should greet everyone.

In my opinion, instilling such seemingly simple things is also an important part of an artist's development. Professionalism doesn't start on stage, but with how you treat people offstage.

"I see a certain similarity between myself and Tender Di"

- Do you think it's easier today for participants to become popular thanks to social networks, but harder to build a long musical career?

- Everyone comes into the music industry with their own motivation. Of course, everyone seeks creative fulfillment, recognition, and financial success. The question is only in what proportions those desires are combined.

In my view, the hardest thing for any artist is to remain interesting to themselves over many years. And that is possible only through a delicate balance between the demands of the music market and one's own creative nature.

Today social networks can indeed instantly draw attention to an artist, make them recognizable and even popular. But true artistic chemistry is born at concerts, during live contact with the audience. And no millions of views can fully replace that connection.

So for me a long musical career is primarily creativity multiplied by the ability to sense changes, accept them, and adapt in time without losing oneself.

- How do you like the new format: is it more music and artist development or more reality-show and conflicts?

- The "Star Factory" format implies conflicts. Of course, achieving those conflicts without the "Star House" and immersing the viewer in the project's backstage is very difficult. However, as we see, these conflicts, although not very vivid, still appear.

At the same time I noticed an interesting trend: judging by discussions on Threads, today's audience is much more interested in the final result — participants' concert performances. And this, in my opinion, is a telling shift: viewers are paying more and more attention to artists' creativity.

- When you look at the young artists going through the "Factory" today, do you recognize yourself in anyone at the start of their career?

- The image of Tender Di personally resonates with me. I see a certain similarity between our archetypes on the project, although, of course, each of us has our own creative nature and individuality.

But the most interesting thing for me is something else. All the participants of the new "Factory" are authors of their own songs. And this is probably one of the main features of the current season. Almost all the "factory" contestants came to the project already with their own repertoire, creative vision, and a certain understanding of themselves as artists.

For comparison: at our "Star Factory 2" fewer than a third of participants had their own original material. Most were only beginning to search for their musical style and stage identity.

So if our "Factory" was largely a story of artists' birth, the current one is more a story of their scaling.

"No one is obliged to believe in you"

- What do you understand about show business today that you didn't understand during your time on the "Factory"?

- First of all, I understood one simple but very important thing: no one is obliged to believe in you. No one is obliged to support you. No one will invent your unique style for you, create the silhouette of your stage image, and most importantly, fill you with meaning.

When the "Star Factory 2" ended, I felt abandoned. People began to forget me quickly, they didn't accept me as a performer, they continued to call me a "factory" contestant. It took a lot of strength and determination for me to dare to start a solo career without a producer. Only then could I understand that a true artist is above all the producer of themselves.

It's a huge solo job that doesn't stop for a day. Sleepless nights in the studio, exhausting performances, constant creative search, doubts, rethinking yourself and your place in music.

And at some point you realize that the artistic profession is not just a way of self-realization or a path to popularity. It's a form of service. Service to the Muse, to your own convictions, to your audience.

I intuitively felt all this back in my "Factory" days, but I didn't fully realize it then. I thought it was enough to have talent, work hard, and be in the right place among the right people.

Today I understand: the industry can give you opportunity, a stage, resources, attention. But it cannot create the artist's personality for you. That is work that no one but you will do.

- If you were offered to go through "Star Factory" again in the current format, would you agree?

- I have a rather paradoxical situation now: I'm invited to study for free, and I can't afford it!

The thing is I now have a large team behind me. Many people work with me, and over the years we've built a whole creative mechanism that requires constant attention, movement, and coordination. It's a kind of machine that is extremely difficult to stop even for a few months. Any pause affects not only me but also the people who work alongside me.

So today I probably couldn't allow myself to go through the "Star Factory" again, although the possibility of such creative immersion is extremely interesting to me.

You know, I'm increasingly convinced that a hiatus is one of the greatest luxuries for an artist today. The ability to step out of the continuous production process for a period to devote yourself exclusively to study, experiments, and creative search is a real privilege.

And I hope that one day I'll reach such a level of professional freedom that I can afford such pauses without harming my team. For me development is no less an important part of the profession than the result itself.

- You wrote on Threads that "Stereoden" is absent from music platforms. Why did that happen? What's the reason: rights issues, legal nuances, or something else?

- "Stereoden" was supposed to get on streaming platforms back in the distant 2008 year. But its author delayed the execution of that mission a bit.

But I will definitely fix the situation. Even before the new "Star Factory" I began preparing a full studio version of the song "Stereoden" in the form it was conceived. It's a complex long-term project involving several sound producers and a symphony orchestra. Wait a little.

"We cannot demand that the past conform to today's values"

- There's an active discussion now about the conflict between Oleksiy Honcharenko and Volodymyr Zavaduk (producers exchanged “pleasantries” on Threads regarding the new “Factory”). How do you assess this situation?

- Both Oleksiy Honcharenko and Volodymyr Zavaduk are top professionals who have learned to work in extremely difficult conditions, creating television products of national scale. Each has enormous experience, a personal vision, and a formed system of values. And it's quite natural that these views may not coincide.

I don't know all the details of their conflict, but I tend to believe that at its core are primarily professional and value-based differences. And perhaps one reason is a different perception of the television legacy of past years.

I'll give the example of "Star Factory 2," which, in my conviction, was truly a turning phenomenon for Ukrainian television. Today it receives a lot of criticism: people recall some inappropriate jury and expert comments, excessive sexualization of certain numbers, insufficient presence of the Ukrainian language. These remarks are not unfounded.

But we cannot demand that the past conform to all the values of today. We can and must analyze it in historical context. And in that context I'm convinced: with its mission "Star Factory 2" coped excellently. Excellently! Period!

- Do you think such public conflicts help Ukrainian show business, or on the contrary, harm it?

- I myself have repeatedly found myself at the center of unpleasant public conflicts. I remember how I once stood up for Vadym Lysytsa and Iryna Fedyshyn, who were sharply criticized because the Ukrainian jury gave Poland zero points at Eurovision-2022.

Then I wrote that the jury members were guided exclusively by the regulations provided by the Public Broadcaster. In response several well-known colleagues of mine wrote to me something like: "You're either stupid or selfish! Unfollow!".

Since then I no longer communicate with those colleagues. And, frankly, I don't regret it. At least that conflict helped me understand with whom in the professional environment it's better not to have dealings.

But sometimes it's the other way. Sometimes I regret what I said or wrote in the heat of the moment. And then I remind myself: "Learn to express your opinion as correctly as possible, even when you categorically disagree with someone."

So are public conflicts ever useful? Absolutely. They expose people's true convictions, help better understand one another, and sometimes allow timely shedding of illusions. But at the same time a conflict can do much more harm than good if it turns into public humiliation or a fight over who gets the last word.

In the end, I highly value people's ability to reconcile. I am ready to admit my own mistakes. Because every conflict teaches us something. The question is only what conclusions we draw.

In my opinion, Ukrainian show business doesn't need the absence of conflicts, but the culture of living through them. We must learn to argue without devaluing each other, to admit mistakes without seeing it as weakness, and to find the strength to reconcile. After all, the maturity of the industry is determined not by the number of scandals, but by how its representatives come out of them.

- Are you ready to voice your position openly, even if it doesn't coincide with the majority opinion?

- If I feel that my opinion can influence the real balance of forces, I voice it. But my personal credo is that an expressed opinion must be heard.

For me it's important not just to speak, but to understand whether the environment is ready to accept your arguments. The true value of a word is not in its loudness, but in its ability to influence.

So I'm convinced: it's worth speaking when there is a chance to be heard. And shouting into the void, trying to prove something to those who are fundamentally unwilling to listen — that is, above all, devaluing yourself.