Petr Davydtchenko has a cat simmering on the stove and a newly skinned rabbit on his chopping board, while behind him is a large salting trough big enough to take donkey legs.

Davydtchenko is an artist who has spent the last two years surviving on roadkill. Whatever he finds, he eats. Sometimes local people help him by sending GPS coordinates of dead animals they have spotted. Other times they might come to see if he has eaten their missing pet. On occasion, he has.

A graduate of the Royal College of Art in London, Davydtchenko lives in a large foundry in Maubourguet, near Lourdes in south-west France, which is used as an experimental art space and was the recent venue for a gathering of some of the most radically political artists working today.

They are all affiliated with an unusual London-based arts organisation, A/political, which helps artists make sometimes difficult, challenging work that they would otherwise be unable to achieve.

Created and funded by a wealthy Russian entrepreneur and investor, Andrei Tretyakov, it has, until now, deliberately operated under the radar. Tretyakov says A/political fills a gap. “The problem with the art institutions and the art system is that it is very commercially driven. No one is spending time, effort or money to work with artists like this. These artists are all family now.

“Even serious institutions, they cater for entertainment, they cater for people who come and spend time at the museum, buy food, buy merchandise … it has become an entertainment space. They compete with all the other cultural platforms like theatre and cinema, so it is no longer an intellectual institution, it is an entertainment institution.”

Some of the A/political artists photographed at the Foundry, from left: Pavel, Gosha Rubchinskiy, Ivan Lopez, Franko B, Andrei Molodkin, Pablo Espana, Kendell Geers, Oleg Kulik and Nika Neelova. Photograph: Alicia Canter/for the Guardian

It is hard to think of an art world model like A/political. It is funded by Tretyakov and does not operate commercially, although his eventual aim is to make it self-sustaining. “We help artists realise their most ambitious dreams ... I’m only interested in projects which are, in a way, impossible ... subject matter, cost, complexity of logistics.”

An example of that might be the work of Santiago Sierra, a Spanish artist. When A/political asked him what he had always wanted to do, he said put the anarchist flag at the geographic north and south poles. It was about reclaiming the world for the people, he said. Photographs and sound from the actions will be given their UK premiere next week at Dundee Contemporary Arts.

Other forthcoming A/political projects include an exhibition of works from its rapidly expanding collection at the BPS22 museum in Charleroi, Belgium, between September and January.

The collection’s director, Becky Haghpanah-Shirwan, says the art world can be a very safe place and that A/political is there to challenge that. The organisation chooses the artists it works with. “We’ve been trying to understand what the criteria is, and we’ve realised it’s more of a spirit. People who are courageous, who want to do something different and look at the world differently ... expanding the discourse and showing there is another way of looking at things.”

It includes artists such as Andrei Molodkin and Franko B, still best known for I Miss You, a dramatic performance piece in Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall that involved him walking naked on a catwalk with blood leaking from his veins.

Another is Kendell Geers, a South African conceptual artist, who said it was rare to encounter such sincerity and commitment. “As an artist, there are no strings attached. It is old-school patronage. They believe in the artists, they believe in the works, they support it and it is because of passion. There isn’t an invoice at the end.”

Franko B with his work Because of Love: Installation Version. Photograph: Alicia Canter/The Guardian

The artists and their families recently gatheredat the Foundry and were served a vegan dinner at a table surrounded by a Sierra work, its huge black letters spelling out the phrase “Tired of this global sadistic regime”.

Absent from the table, because he only eats roadkill and any vegetables or nettles he can forage, was Davydtchenko. Born in Russia and trained in London, Davydtchenko, with extraordinary dedication, currently bases his existence on the road. He gets up at sunrise, swims in the lake, and cycles around looking for roadkill.

“The motivation was to exist parallel with modernity, with progress,” he said. “I see the vehicle on the road as a symbol of progress and modernity and it destroys animals that come crossing the border, the white line of the road. I break the cycle, my life depends on this destructive accident.”

He has built up his skills and is efficient in skinning, butchering, brining and organising his life so he always has food in leaner times. Next spring he will spend three months at the Palazzo Lucarini gallery in Trevi, Italy, continuing his roadkill existence.

On a gas ring in his workshop at the Foundry is a pot with a cat he found yesterday, slow cooking with wild thyme and bay leaves. “Cat is like a mix maybe between rabbit and chicken – it depends on the cat. Wild cat and domestic cat taste different. Domestic better than wild cat.”

There is nothing he would not eat, he said. “Some things I prefer less, like fox is not my favourite, but I’ve learned to cook it so I can enjoy it. Last year I found a donkey. Local people helped me bring it here, it took three days to cut, and I’ve eaten this donkey for one year.”