If you've ever stood in a half-finished room with a blank wall and no clue what belongs on it, you already understand why we started.
Skarb means treasure
We moved from Kyiv to the UK in 2025, into a rented flat with white walls, no furniture, and the strange feeling of starting again, at an age when most people are settling in. The bed came first, then a sofa and a table. Then, months later than everything else came the question of what to put on the walls.
That's when I realised how much a home depends on the things nobody urgently needs. A print above the sofa won't feed you or keep you warm, but without it, the room never quite finishes. It stays a place you sleep, not a place you live.
So I started buying prints. I fell down the rabbit hole of interior videos (shoutout to Caroline Winkler), mood boards, and late-night notes labelled "wall art". The work I liked most came from small studios that named their artists and told you where the art came from. The work I liked least came from AI. (You can tell. You can always tell.)
And then I noticed something. The Ukrainian artists I knew, who are making genuinely good work in Kyiv, Lviv, or Kharkiv, had little options to sell quality fine art prints in Ukraine, and not much reach internationally either. No print-on-demand infrastructure with proper dropshipping, something an artist in London would take for granted. An artist in Kyiv and an artist in London had very different options for turning their work into something a stranger could hang on a wall.
Skarb exists to fix that, in a small way, for a small number of artists we believe in.
It's pronounced /SKAːRB/. It's Ukrainian for treasure, and treasure is what we're after – for the wall, for the artist, for you.
What we sell
Prints that finish the room
That's the whole brief.