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Gallery Rechnitzer Budapest presents Inner Spaces. Emma Kling, Júlia Csapó, Eszter Kálóczy on the body's thresholds. Curated by Flóra Gadó, 2026.

The Imprint Stays When the Figure Leaves

## Emma Kling, Júlia Csapó, Eszter Kálóczy at Gallery Rechnitzer - Curated by Flóra Gadó Gallery Rechnitzer presents _Inner Spaces_ , curated by Flóra Gadó, with Emma Kling, Júlia Csapó, and Eszter Kálóczy, in Budapest. * * * **Inner Spaces** **Artists:** Emma Kling, Júlia Csapó, Eszter Kálóczy **Exhibition:** Inner Spaces **Venue:** Gallery Rechnitzer **City:** Budapest, Hungary **Curator:** Flóra Gadó **Photography:** Tóth Dávid **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer * * * There is a structure that exists between shelter and enclosure, designed for the body's transition, sited publicly but oriented toward privacy. The changing room holds the liminal interval without resolving it, and what Emma Kling has been asking, quietly, is what remains once the body moves on. _Inner Spaces_ positions three painters in productive tension around this question. **Júlia Csapó** approaches from outside, through landscape, resonance, the body's permeability to the non-human. ****Júlia Csapó**** , __Surface-shape-mesh__ , 2024, oil on canvas. Courtesy of the artist.****Eszter Kálóczy**** , __Interconnected Spaces__ , 2026, oil on canvas. Courtesy of the artist and Gallery Rechnitzer. **Eszter Kálóczy** from within, from Surrealist cavities where forgotten memory surfaces and the fortress-mind attempts, haltingly, to open. **Emma Kling** occupies the threshold between these two positions, the place where interiority becomes legible to the outside and visibility turns complicated. > A shadow is also a kind of record. In Kling's practice, the absent figure carries as much weight as whatever remains on the surface, which is to say, the negative space is never quite empty. **Gallery Rechnitzer** operates across two registers in this exhibition. A light-filled white space holds Kálóczy's ink-and-wash drawings of figures nested within cavities alongside Csapó's large oil canvases, where translucent outlines move through dense natural foliage, and Kling's smaller paintings in earthy ochres and browns lined along the wall. A second space, raw brick, exposed pipe, the residue of an older use, is where Kling's installation claims its ground. The change of atmosphere is not incidental. Gallery Rechnitzer, Exhibition view, __Inner Spaces__ , Budapest, 2026. Works by Emma Kling, Júlia Csapó, and Eszter Kálóczy. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer.Gallery Rechnitzer, Installation view, __Inner Spaces__ , Budapest, 2026. Works by Eszter Kálóczy. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer.Exhibition view, __Inner Spaces__ , Gallery Rechnitzer, Budapest, 2026. Works by Júlia Csapó and Eszter Kálóczy. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer. The central installation takes the snail-shaped changing cabin of Lake Balaton's shores as its structural model, stripped to bare lumber, curved top, open frame, a skeleton of the form Kling has returned to repeatedly. Small arched panels, Threshold Objects, oil on wood, hang from it and stand within it on ornate wooden supports that seem to have migrated from a different century, seeming to wait rather than be displayed. The arch repeated becomes a grammar, doorway, opening, the body's own apertures. ****Emma Kling**** , __Threshold Object__ , oil on wood. Courtesy of the artist and Gallery Rechnitzer. _Threshold Object_ (oil on wood, 60 × 40 cm) holds this logic most directly. A figure, or a vessel, the ambiguity seems considered, appears through horizontal slats, its lower section reflected across a dark dividing band. The paint is warm against a cooler ground, nothing settling into legibility. What the slats introduce is a surveillance logic, a body between states, observed without its knowledge or consent, the inside exposed by the architecture that was supposed to protect it. Her wall-based works nearby carry a different register. In two small paintings on exposed brick, something peers out, eyes partially obscured by hanging forms, a window-cross dividing the picture into quadrants that hold receding figures. Shadow and negative form accumulate not as absence but as weight. Kling's interest seems to be less in what the body looks like than in what it leaves when it has moved on, the silhouette that remains, the shape cut against light. Gallery Rechnitzer, Installation View Emma Kling Artworks, Budapest, 2026. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer.Gallery Rechnitzer, Budapest,Júlia CSAPÓ Membrántest II., 2025 akril, vászon, 150×110 cm 2026. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer.Gallery Rechnitzer, Eszter Kálóczy artworks, Budapest, 2026. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer.Gallery Rechnitzer, Budapest, 2026. Work by Eszter Kálóczy. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer. The exhibition arrives as questions about invisible labor, work performed without entering the public record, gather renewed attention. Kling's shadow motif operates on both the psychological and social register at once, the interior dimension Jung named, and the work that does not count, does not appear, does not cast its own visible mark. There is nothing didactic in how this is handled, the installation is too open for that, too committed to perceptual ambiguity to resolve into argument. Csapó and Kálóczy extend the frame outward and inward respectively, and it is the distance between all three positions that gives the show its room. Gallery Rechnitzer, Exhibition View, Emma Kling, Art Installation , Budapest, 2026. Photography: Tóth Dávid. Courtesy Gallery Rechnitzer. The changing room keeps standing after everyone has left. Gallery Rechnitzer on Instagram Emma Kling Instagram Júlia Csapó on Instagram Instagram Eszter Kálóczy **About Catapult** This is a exhibition review published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * Featured ## Lisa Klinger: Painting the Body as System Read More Exhibition ## Boglárka Dankó: Heresy in the Small Hours Read More Interview ## Tom Król on The Visible Trace of the Invisible Map Read More

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The Why Not Gallery presents Catalogue of Sensory Data, a duo exhibition by Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026.

What the Archive Doesn't Classify - Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani in a Duo Exhibition

## The Why Not Gallery Presents Catalogue of Sensory Data in Tbilisi **The Why Not Gallery** presents _Catalogue of Sensory Data_ , a duo exhibition by **Nata Varazi** and Gvantsa Jishkariani, at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi. * * * There is a long tradition of archives that fail the things they try to contain. The record doesn't hold grief. The catalogue entry for longing is always missing. What _Catalogue of Sensory Data_ proposes, through two artists working in materials as far apart as hand-felted wool and marble mosaic, is not a protest against classification but an alternative system. One where the data is tactile. Where the entry field is not "date acquired" but "what it felt like to be here." * * * **Catalogue of Sensory Data** **Artists:** Nata Varazi, Gvantsa Jishkariani **Exhibition:** Catalogue of Sensory Data **Venue:** The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space **City:** Tbilisi, Georgia **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy The Why Not Gallery **Contact:** hi@thewhynotgallery.com * * * > An archive of lived experience, built from materials that resist neutrality. These works don't document sensation, they are its format. * * * The exhibition takes place at Fabrika Project Space, a converted factory compound in Tbilisi that has become one of the city's most active cultural sites. The choice is not incidental, Fabrika carries its Soviet-era industrial past visibly, and Catalogue of Sensory Data places itself inside that layering, art made from cultural inheritance, shown in a building that is itself a renegotiated archive. It is The Why Not Gallery's first exhibition in collaboration with Fabrika, and the scale of the space shapes what both practices become inside it. ****Gvantsa Jishkariani and Nata Varazi**** , __Catalogue of Sensory Data__ , installation view, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Catalogue of Sensory Data__ , installation view, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Catalogue of Sensory Data__ , installation view, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Catalogue of Sensory Data__ , installation view detail, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi. Gvantsa Jishkariani**'s** large felt compositions set the spatial tone. A work scaled to overtake a wall, Georgian and Italian wool pressed and shaped into a surface that feels more like landscape than textile, holds an elongated, spectral figure, somewhere between folkloric symbol and private vision. Felt, as a material, doesn't sharpen. It absorbs. ****Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Curious Gangster__ , 2026, marble and beach glass mosaic, 55 × 40 cm, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Gvantsa Jishkarian**** i, __Caramel Cutie__ , 2026, marble mosaic on wood, 40 × 32 cm, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Curious Gangster__ , 2026, marble and beach glass mosaic, 55 × 40 cm, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Crystalized Threads of Dusk__ , 2024, lapis lazuli and marble mosaic with yellow topaz, citrine, prehnite and rhodonite beads, 120 × 46 × 2 cm, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi. Jishkariani's Catalogue of Sensory Data (the title shared with the exhibition itself) and her Catalogue of galaxies series seem to understand this, the format and the content converge. Her Ouroboros drawings on paper carry the same circular logic in smaller register, beginning folding into end, containment as structure rather than failure. Nata Varazi**** works in the register of duration. Her marble and gemstone mosaics use ancient technique, Italian Smalti, lapis lazuli, malachite, beach glass, not to invoke the classical but to insist that certain kinds of attention can only be built slowly. ****Nata Varazi,**** __Untitled__ , 2025, watercolor pencil, oil pastels and pencil on paper, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Nata Varazi**** , __Untitled__ , 2025, watercolor pencil, oil pastels, pencil on paper, 94 × 62 cm, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery****Nata Varazi**** , __The Ouroboros I+II__ , 2025, watercolor pencil, oil pastels, pencil on paper, 30 × 20 cm, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Nata Varazi,**** __Hunger feels like howling at eternity__ , 2025, mixed media on wood, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi. If you listen carefully when walking in the woods at night is a long vertical form, the title functioning as instruction rather than description. Crystalized Threads of Dusk carries semi-precious stones across its surface as though memory itself had a mineral structure. The oil paintings operate differently, looser, more immediate, the language of title, I Hear you Purring Inside, I Feel You Licking My Wounds, closing the distance between image and body. Both practices circle what the exhibition's own framing calls an "archive of lived experience", the states dismissed as vulnerability, the sensations without institutional category. ****Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Catalogue of Sensory Data__ , installation view, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Catalogue of Sensory Data__ , installation view, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi.****Nata Varazi and Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Catalogue of Sensory Data__ , installation view, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi. The shared naming, Catalogue of galaxies, Catalogue of Sensory Data, runs across both artists' works like a shared notation system, one that borrows the vocabulary of system of classification while refusing its neutrality. In a cultural moment where emotional intelligence tends to get aestheticized quickly, turned into product, into platform, into a kind of decorative legibility, this exhibition insists on the difficult materials. Felt that takes weeks to make, stone that took millennia to form, paint that sits heavy when the subject is weight. These are not quick declarations. They hold their ground because they were built to hold. ****Gvantsa Jishkariani**** , __Catalogue of galaxies n1__ , 2026, detail, Georgian and Italian wool felt, The Why Not Gallery at Fabrika Project Space, Tbilisi, 2026. Courtesy The Why Not Gallery, Tbilisi. The final question the exhibition leaves open is not what the sensory data means, but who gets to decide when enough has been archived. Nata Varazi on Instagram Instagram Gvantsa Jishkariani The Why not Gallery on Instagram **About Catapult** This is a exhibition review published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## More Readings Featured ## Ailyn Lee and the Alchemy of Memory: Bodies, Objects, Transformation Read More Exhibition ## Bianca Barandun: Sculptural Systems of Memory and Air Read More Interview ## Hugo Brazão: Sculpting Escapism in a World of Fabric, Fiction, and Form Read More * * *

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Kunstraum Ortloff Leipzig presents Josefine Schulz's Makeover. On identity as process, the glow-up as loop, and overpainting as method. .

Every Fresh Start Carries the Last One Inside It - Review Josefine Schulz

## **Kunstraum Ortloff Presents Josefine Schulz -Makeover in Leipzig** **Kunstraum Ortloff** presents _Makeover (fall in love again and again)_ , a solo exhibition by **Josefine Schulz** with a text by Carolin Kralapp, through May 9, 2026. The makeover is one of contemporary culture's most persistent formats, not because transformation is actually possible, but because the demand keeps returning. The logic is clean, a before, an after, and a legible distance between them. What Josefine Schulz seems interested in is where that logic starts to hold differently. * * * **Makeover (fall in love again and again)** **Artist:** Josefine Schulz **Exhibition:** Makeover (fall in love again and again) **Venue:** Kunstraum Ortloff **City:** Leipzig, Germany **Dates:** April 23 – May 9, 2026 **Hours:** Saturdays 2-6 PM & by appointment **Address:** Jahnallee 73, 04177 Leipzig **Photography:** dotgain.info **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff **Contact:** galerie@ortloff.org * * * Mirrors appear throughout the exhibition, but they don't quite do what mirrors are supposed to do. Figures look into them and find other faces. Reflections double without resolving. The surface keeps returning something that isn't quite the image the protagonist was looking for, and the paintings hold that discrepancy without explaining it. > The makeover promises a clean break. Schulz's paintings suggest the break never fully comes — and that this might not be the failure it sounds like. * * * Kunstraum Ortloff is a former residential space in Leipzig-Lindenau, high ceilings, large double-framed windows, connecting rooms that give the exhibition room to breathe and accumulate. ****Josefine Schulz**** , detail view, __Makeover (fall in love again and again)__ , Kunstraum Ortloff, Leipzig, 2026. Photography: dotgain.info. Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff. For Makeover, Josefine Schulz has extended the work directly onto the architecture, one wall painted entirely in a flat grid of blue squares, turning the gallery into something between a domestic bathroom and a film set, the tiled surface setting conditions for the works installed against and within it, a ground that mirrors the content without underlining it. The largest painting in the exhibition depicts a group of women along a public restroom counter. Flat, unmodeled figures in vivid color, neon green overalls, a red top, a purple jacket, an orange turtleneck, stand at a tiled sink, phones held loosely, a wavy blue frame enclosing the scene as if mimicking the restroom mirror itself. At the top of the canvas, the reflections of their backs appear, while the viewer occupies the position facing them, creating a scene of collective intimacy, the one semi-private space where strangers perform self-adjustment side by side, and where the mirror functions as shared infrastructure. ****Josefine Schulz**** : __Makeover (fall in love again and again)__ , Kunstraum Ortloff, Leipzig, 2026. Photography: dotgain.info. Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff.****Josefine Schulz:**** __Makeover (fall in love again and again)__ , Kunstraum Ortloff, Leipzig, 2026. Photography: dotgain.info. Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff.****Josefine Schulz:**** __Makeover (fall in love again and again)__ , Kunstraum Ortloff, Leipzig, 2026. Photography: dotgain.info. Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff. On the tiled gallery wall, a small canvas shows a pink compact mirror opening to reveal two faces, not a face and its reflection, but two faces together, side by side, as if the object had declined its designated function. The scale is precise. Against the expanse of blue tile, the painting holds its ground through concentration rather than size. A third work dominates the adjacent room, a large canvas set within a wavy pink-magenta frame that reads simultaneously as vanity mirror and decorative cartouche. Inside it, handwriting and a faint architectural image, a tower, a castle, coexist with text that has been painted over, partially erased, and overwritten again. Earlier states of the picture don't disappear, they remain legible beneath the surface, the way a previous self stays readable through a current one. This is the formal argument the exhibition keeps returning to, revision as method, overpainting as a kind of honesty. ****Josefine Schulz**** : __Makeover (fall in love again and again)__ , Kunstraum Ortloff, Leipzig, 2026. Photography: dotgain.info. Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff.****Josefine Schulz:****__Makeover (fall in love again and again)__ , Kunstraum Ortloff, Leipzig, 2026. Photography: dotgain.info. Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff. The early 2000s films that run through the exhibition's references, Clueless screens at the finissage, have returned with some force in recent years, less as nostalgia than as codes a younger generation is now processing as history rather than autobiography. The glow-up, the before-and-after, the makeover video, these formats migrated from cinema to social media without losing their structural logic, and they keep mutating. Schulz doesn't critique that logic so much as inhabit it from within, tracing where it holds and where it quietly doesn't. A flip phone appears in one painting, an iPhone, a Stanley Cup, in others, the present and the recent past occupying the same pictorial time without resolving into each other. ****Josefine Schulz:**** __Makeover (fall in love again and again)__ , Kunstraum Ortloff, Leipzig, 2026. Photography: dotgain.info. Courtesy Kunstraum Ortloff. What revision leaves behind isn't failure, it's the record of every version that came before, still there in the surface, not quite gone. Josefine Schulz on Instagram Kunstraum Ortloff Instagram **About Catapult** This is a exhibition review published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * Featured ## Anne-Joelle Tan: Humiliation as Image Logic Read MoreExhibition ## Clauda Presents Paula Gogola: soft_sighs synthesis Read MoreInterview ## Tom Król on The Visible Trace of the Invisible Map Read More

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BERG Contemporary presents Thordis Erla Zoega's Domestic Sci-fi in Reykjavík. AI-predicted sunrises, dichroic light, and the blind as primary medium.

Technology Moved In. The Body Is Still Adjusting.

**Domestic Sci-fi - BERG Contemporary** **Artist:** Thordis Erla Zoega (Þórdís Erla Zoëga) **Exhibition:** Domestic Sci-fi **Venue:** BERG Contemporary **City:** Reykjavík, Iceland **Address:** Klapparstígur 16, 101 Reykjavík **Text:** Thordis Erla Zoega and Kristína Aðalsteinsdóttir **Photography:** Vigfús Birgisson **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy BERG Contemporary ## BERG Contemporary Presents Domestic Sci-fi in Reykjavík Something has changed in the logic of the domestic object. The things we use to separate inside from outside, the blind, the curtain, the window, were never neutral, but they used to be simple. They filtered. Now they carry information, and the distinction between filtering and transmitting is getting difficult to hold. The question isn't whether technology belongs in domestic space. It already does, definitively. The more difficult uncertainty is what it displaces when it arrives, the biological calibrations of light and dark that predate every algorithm, the rhythms the body still runs on even when the devices insist otherwise. > The home has always tracked the sun, curtains opened at dawn, closed at dusk. What changes when an algorithm makes the same forecast centuries out, and the body no longer knows which signal to follow. BERG Contemporary's ground-floor space in Reykjavík holds the exhibition quietly. Zoëga uses venetian blinds as the show's dominant material across walls, suspended as room-dividers, arranged into enclosed chambers, so that the transition from gallery to artwork is continuous. You are inside, but also inside the work. The blinds mark the boundary, they've also become the view. ****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Domestic Sci-fi__ , installation view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary.****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Forecast__ , detail view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary.****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Everyday__ , installation view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary. The Forecast series occupies the surrounding walls, AI-generated sunrises and sunsets, each stripped to its gradient, mounted behind or printed onto venetian slats that cut the image into horizontal bands. The colours run cool at the top, pale blue, muted violet, and warm toward amber and orange below. What you're seeing is a prediction of atmosphere, processed and pulled back from precision until each image blurs into something between data and sensation. Each work carries Roman numerals marking its year of forecast, future light, dated in a calendar built entirely around the sun's movement. The choice seems deliberate. Prediction is not new, what's new is who, or what, is doing it. ****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Dawn__ , detail view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary.****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Domestic Sci-fi__ , installation view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary.****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Forecast__ , installation view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary.Thordis Erla Zoega, __Domestic Sci-fi__ , installation view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary. At the exhibition's centre, Everyday builds an enclosed structure from white blinds, within which a disc of dichroic film rotates slowly counterclockwise, the disc reading as blue while its reflection casts red and yellow light that migrates across the floor and along the blind-walls, a slow orbit generated indoors. Dichroic film was originally developed by NASA for astronaut use in space, here it traces the rhythm of opening and closing curtains, the daily act of letting morning in and keeping evening out, the reflection seeming to pursue its own path as if the work has produced a small solar system inside the gallery's interior. In a second room, Dawn positions a large circular disc, orange at its core, moving through red and out to warm yellow at the rim, against a white wall, at the disc's lower edge two small white hands reach outward, neither grasping nor releasing. The sun is here as physical object, held or perhaps merely touched, and the body that might hold it is present only as this fragment, two hands, anatomically generic, cast in white, making it the exhibition's most unresolved image, which is likely the point. ****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Domestic Sci-fi__ , installation view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary.****Thordis Erla Zoega**** , __Forecast__ , installation view, BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary What Zoëga is tracking runs through all three bodies of work, the collision between biological time, the circadian, the seasonal, the cellular, and technological time, which operates at a different scale entirely and does not pause, screens keeping the body in artificial daylight long after dusk, AI models generating forecasts for years the artist will not see. The home fills with devices that listen continuously. Domestic Sci-fi names this condition accurately, the extraordinary has become ordinary, and the uncanny now lives next to the kitchen, the exhibition not offering resolution but staging the environment where the collision happens, which is already somewhere between a living room and a laboratory. What the body does with that remains, for now, an open variable. * * * Instagram Berg Contemporary Thordis Erla Zoega Instagram ****Thordis Erla Zoega**** inside __Everyday__ , BERG Contemporary, Reykjavík, 2025. Photography: Vigfús Birgisson. Courtesy BERG Contemporary. **About Catapult** This is a exhibition review published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## **Related Readings** Artist in Focus ## Martha Kicsiny: Light, Power, and the Material Weight of the Cloud Read More Exhibition ## Divine Desires — Marie Munk & Stine Deja Read More Interview ## Melanie Daniel — Utopian & Dystopian Narratives Read More

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Galeria Piana presents Agata Jarosławiec: We Speak in Echoes in Kraków. Silicone, crochet, and folk heritage as somatic archive. Through 09.05.2026.

What the Body Inherits Before Language Can Name It

**We Speak in Echoes - Fundacja Galerii Piana** **Artist:** Agata Jarosławiec **Exhibition:** We Speak in Echoes **Venue:** Fundacja Galerii Piana **City:** Kraków, Poland **Dates:** 28 March 2026 - 9 May 2026 **Address:** Długa 15, Kraków **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana **Contact:** fundacjagaleriipiana@gmail.com ## Galeria Piana Presents Agata Jarosławiec: We Speak in Echoes in Kraków There are kinds of knowledge that don't move through words. They move through hands, the specific pressure of a needle through fabric, the rhythm of fingers working a crochet hook, a stitch repeated until the body knows it without instruction. This is not nostalgia, it is the precise way a practice survives when the conditions for its survival are hostile. Inheritance, in this reading, is not a transfer but a residue, something that persists not because it was chosen, but because it was inscribed. The question Agata Jarosławiec asks is what happens when that residue takes the form of silicone, a material that imitates skin without carrying its history, that can be pressed, cast, and formed into echoes of a body it has never inhabited. > An echo does not return what was said, it returns a difference. Jarosławiec locates that difference in the body itself, in gestures that pass between generations without being named, and in the silicone that holds the impression without holding the memory. Galeria Piana in Kraków occupies a layered space: white-tiled floors on the ground level, a pink-painted staircase corridor rising to a second room above. Jarosławiec treats this architecture as a structure of enclosure, the hortus conclusus, the enclosed medieval garden, becomes a spatial argument about who is afforded access to visibility, to language, to the possibility of being recognized as having labored at all. ****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation detail, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , We Speak in Echoes, 2026. Installation view. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana. On the ground level, a figure seated on a vintage accordion holds the room. Dressed entirely in loose linen, coat, trousers, lace-crochet boots, wearing a crocheted balaclava that encases the head and neck, the figure carries an unresolved ambiguity: the whitened eyes beneath the crochet helmet don't confirm whether this is the artist in performance or a hyperrealistic sculpture. In the hands rests a small grey silicone fragment, handled like a worry stone. The accordion beneath them suggests folk music as another form of somatic transmission, sound as echo, instrument as inheritance. Suspended nearby is a garment assemblage that concentrates the exhibition's material logic. A skin-toned torso form hangs from a metal rod, silicone surface fitted with crocheted circular ornaments, a long plait of hair descending through its center, the lower body dissolving into layered lace and cross-stitched folk embroidery in red and green. The piece holds several temporalities at once: industrial manufacture, domestic craft, a body neither fully present nor fully absent. It seems to ask whether a garment can outlive the labor that made it, and whether what gets passed down is the form or the making. ****Agata Jarosławiec,**** __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , detail view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , detail view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , detail view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana. The upper gallery, reached through the pink corridor where a photograph of a woman in a red sweater holding a crocheted toy serves as threshold, opens into a triptych arrangement. Two large video screens flank a central textile: a horizontal banner in pale pink and beige, with appliquéd white flower forms and silicone face-casts embedded at intervals, a red crocheted rose at its center from which a braided cord descends to the floor, ending in a ball of yarn still unspooling. On the left screen, hands work with dark materials in close-up, the labor visible, the face absent. On the right, a historical Polish religious painting carries a subtitle: Twoja szyja jest piękna jak wieża Dawida - "Your neck is beautiful like the Tower of David", the Song of Songs folded into a nationalist image. Elsewhere, a hanging mesh of identical grey silicone pieces contains one exception: a single gold form, linked into the chain like all the others. Cultural assimilation rendered as object, the cost of passing, made tangible. Jarosławiec's work arrives at a moment when the visibility of domestic and affective labor has become a site of real political dispute, not as a new conversation, but as an old one returning, slightly distorted, carrying everything it has already been. ****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.Agata Jarosławiec, __We Speak in Echoes__ , installation view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana.****Agata Jarosławiec**** , __We Speak in Echoes__ , detail view, Fundacja Galerii Piana, Kraków, 2026. Courtesy Fundacja Galerii Piana Folk craft in Eastern Europe holds a specific history of instrumentalization: by nationalism, by nostalgia, by economic conditions that made such labor invisible in the first place. Jarosławiec doesn't rehabilitate that history. She works through it the way an echo works through a cave, not arriving as the original sound, but arriving differently, carrying the shape of the space it passed through. What returns in this show is not memory. It is the shape memory makes in matter when it has nowhere else to go. Instagram Agata Jarosławiec Galerien Piana Instagram **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## More Readings Featured ## Can Thread Remember the Body? Artist Spotlight Yali Romagoza Read More Exhibition ## Villa Bernasconi: Stitches – A Haunted House and Other Ghost Stories Read More Interview ## Hugo Brazão: Sculpting Escapism in a World of Fabric, Fiction, and Form Read More ##

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Joan Pallé at Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida: new work on youth, powerlessness, and subcultural refusal as genuine political gesture. Curated by Sjors Bindel Through May 2026.

The Middle Finger as Serious Argument

**Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth - Centre d'Art La Panera** **Artist:** Joan Pallé **Exhibition:** Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth **Curator:** Sjors Bindels **Venue:** Centre d'Art La Panera **City:** Lleida, Spain **Dates:** 21 February 2026 - 24 May 2026 **Admission:** Free **Photography:** Roberto Ruiz **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Centre d'Art La Panera ## Centre d'Art La Panera Presents Joan Pallé's _Unhappy Youth_ in Lleida There is a specific unhappiness that comes not from ignorance but from clarity. When you can name the mechanism, describe its architecture, trace its logic, and find yourself still inside it. This is not the unconsciousness Pier Paolo Pasolini diagnosed in Italian youth fifty years ago. It is something harder to metabolize. Pasolini argued that his generation's cardinal sin was the submissive acceptance of consumer society, and that their children were condemned to pay for it. What he could not anticipate was a generation for whom the inheritance arrives pre-labeled, legible from the start, and no less inescapable for it. > The problem is not that today's youth can't see the trap. The problem is that seeing it doesn't help. **Centre d'Art La Panera** occupies a large industrial hall in Lleida, Pallé's hometown, with exposed wooden beams overhead and a floor that holds the exhibition's contradictions without resolving them. Joan Pallé, __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , installation view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , installation view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera..Joan Pallé, __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , installation view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. The choice of venue is not incidental: _Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth_ is dedicated explicitly to the young people of this city, to those who, as the exhibition text puts it, simultaneously hide themselves and expose everything to the world. That address, to a specific community in a specific place, carries more weight than a generic claim about youth in the abstract. The dominant presence in the space is a series of monumental black-and-white photographs of young people in black metal and goth makeup, dark eye paint extending down the face, black lips, crosses drawn across skin, mounted on raw wooden scaffolding frames that arch at the top like unfinished windows. ****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera****Joan Pallé,**** __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. Each figure performs a gesture that is simultaneously confrontational and quotidian: giving the middle finger, touching up makeup mid-act. At this scale, the gesture changes register. The middle finger is no longer an insult, it holds a position. Three figures lined up across the space, their scaffolding provisional and structural at once, carry the argument that subcultural style has always been doing something more than signaling: it was marking refusal when no better language was available. ****Joan Pallé,**** __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. The sculptural works complicate that argument without undermining it. Two plaster figures on wooden pedestals face the room differently. One, rendered in the manner of a classical bust, turns slightly and touches its own face, the self-consciousness of a body that knows it is being watched. The other figure, dressed in a plain white sweatshirt, has had its head replaced entirely by a mass of orange flames. The hands rest on the knees. The posture is quiet. The burning is not dramatized; it simply is, as if fire were just the face this person carries. ****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera.Joan Pallé, __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. A third object, a blackened handmade sculpture of a VW Golf GTI, a small crouched human figure inside, arrives from a different angle. The Golf was a class object, a youth object, an aspiration. Here it is darkened and closed, the body inside unable to exit. Nearby, a steel structure on industrial wheels carries chains, a red hook, and a panel that reads "YOUTH" in a logo format indistinguishable from sportswear branding. The object looks like a crane and a display stand at once, something that lifts, and something that sells. ****Joan Pallé,**** __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. The exhibition does not offer the Pasolini reference as historical footnote. It uses it as a diagnostic: the generation that knows social media is harmful and keeps scrolling, that knows consumerism is empty and keeps consuming, is not simply hypocritical. It is navigating a system sophisticated enough to absorb its own critique and sell it back. The goth, the punk, the emo were not naïve gestures, they were genuine attempts at refusal by people who had no institutional channels for dissent. The question Pallé raises, without answering, is whether the same holds now, when even refusal carries a logo. ****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , installation view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. ****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. ****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , installation view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera.****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , detail view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera.****Joan Pallé**** , __Els joves infeliços / Unhappy Youth__ , installation view, Centre d'Art La Panera, Lleida, 2026. Photo: Roberto Ruiz, courtesy of Centre d'Art La Panera. The blackened Golf with the crouching figure inside is not a metaphor for entrapment, it is evidence that the vehicle youth were handed was already a ruin, and that the posture of endurance inside it is the only form of agency the object allows. Instagram Joan Pallé Instagram Centre d'Art La Panera **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## **More Readings** Featured ## P.Kim Kimtaegi — Between Mask and Body Read More Exhibition ## Grip Face — Utopía del Lodo at Miró Foundation Read More Interview ## Hugo Brazão — Sculpting Escapism Read More

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Catapult interviews Andreas R Andersson, installation artist in Sápmi. On temporary objects, Arctic landscape, and why doubt keeps the work alive.

Can Art Stop a Mine? - Andreas R. Andersson Interview

**Andreas R Andersson** **Based in:** Arvidsjaur, Sápmi, Sweden **Born:** 1982 **Medium:** Installation, Sculpture, Site-Specific Practice **Education:** Royal Academy of Fine Arts, Stockholm; Valand Academy, Gothenburg; Konstfack, Stockholm **Recent Exhibitions:** Symptoms of a Blown Head Gasket, International Gallery of Contemporary Art, Anchorage, US On Fresh Soil, W139, Amsterdam The choreography of change, Konstmuseet i Norr, Kiruna **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the Artist Andreas R Andersson: Work in Progress, Koulitisjaure, 2023. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by the artist. ## Andreas R Andersson, Arvidsjaur, Installation and Site-Specific Practice * * * The studio does not exist. Or rather, it exists wherever Andersson happens to be working, a deep forest, a mountain summit, under the northern lights. Based in Arvidsjaur, a village inside the Arctic Circle in Sápmi, Sweden, Andreas R Andersson builds large-scale installations assembled from materials found in remote environments: spent industrial objects, natural remnants, handcraft placed in deliberate tension with mass production. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** Beowulf, Boden, Luleåbiennalen, 2024. Collaboration with Karl Sjölund. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Glömd Historia.****Andreas R Andersson:**** A Burning Crust on Life Support, Gothenburg, Göteborgs Konsthall, 2022. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Hendrik Zeitler. His practice has taken him from Johannesburg to Anchorage to Amsterdam, yet the work stays rooted in the specifics of the North, its militarization, the slow ruin of its landscapes, the political and existential weight of Sápmi. > "Of course, I doubt everything, my art, myself, and the world around me. But I've come to see that doubt isn't something that weakens the work; it's what keeps it alive. > > If art only aimed to provide clear answers, it might stop asking questions and for me, that's where its power lies!" - **Andreas R Andersson** He has been here for almost ten years. The stillness, he says, carries a force that is difficult to find elsewhere. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** (Artist Portrait)Work in Progress, Akkanålke, 2025. . Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Andreas R Andersson * * * ## **Interview with Andreas R Andersson** ### 1.**You live in Arvidsjaur, close to the Arctic Circle. Is that a political decision, a practical one, or both?** I’ve moved around most of my life, and after many years in larger cities and working abroad, I felt a need to step away. I was offered a place to stay in Arvidsjaur and thought it would be a temporary break. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** Work in Progress, Karesuando, 2022. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Andreas R Andersson. Almost ten years later, I’m still here and I can’t imagine myself living anywhere else. It’s an incredible place to work as an artist. The landscape, the people, and the stillness carry a force that is difficult to find elsewhere. ### 2.**What do you see from your studio, and what of that enters the work without you planning it?** I live in a small one-room apartment and I don’t have access to a studio, so most of my work happens outside. So what I see varies a lot, it can be a deep forest, a mountain top, or under the stars and the northern lights. These conditions shape both how I work and what the work becomes. The environment affects the pace, the decisions, and what is even possible to do. It sets limits, but it also opens things up. It makes me slower, more attentive, and that becomes a big part of the process. ### 3**.Your materials often come from somewhere found, used, spent. What does found material carry into your work that something new cannot?** The material comes with a history of use, of time, of having been part of something else. Even when that history isn’t visible, it’s still there. Working in the north, that becomes even more apparent. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** A Burning Crust on Life Support, Gothenburg, Göteborgs Konsthall, 2012–2022. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Hendrik Zeitler****Andreas R Andersson:**** A Burning Crust on Life Support, Gothenburg, Göteborgs Konsthall, 2012–2022. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Hendrik Zeitler****Andreas R Andersson**** A Barren Land, Left in Dust, Kiruna, Gamla Fiskodlingen, 2021. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Konstfrämjandet Norrbotten. The conditions shape what is left behind. The cold slows things down, but it also breaks things apart. So when I work I’m not starting from a blank surface. I’m entering into something that already has its own history, its own life. It brings something into the work, a story that existed before me, and continues beyond me. ### 4**."Violent sterile" is how your aesthetic is described. Burnt out colors, handcraft next to mass production. When is a work visually finished for you?** If something looks resolved too quickly, I start to distrust it. The surface can come together, but that doesn’t mean the work is done. For me, it’s more about when it stops asking for more, when adding or removing something would only make it quieter, or less precise. ****Andreas R Andersson**** Sit Tight, Gothenburg, NSFW / 3:e Våningen, 2016–2017. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Andreas R Andersson. The contrast between the sterile and the violent, the handmade and the mass-produced is not something I try to balance perfectly. It’s more about holding a tension. Often that point is hard to define. It’s less a decision and more a recognition. The work reaches a state where it can stand on its own, without me adjusting it further. ### **5. Indigenous rights, militarization, resource extraction. That sounds like activism. But you make art. Where is the boundary, and do you cross it deliberately?** My work doesn’t try to be a direct form of activism or advocacy. It moves through something more existential and personal. It can hold uncertainty, discomfort, and complexity without resolving it. ****Andreas R Andersson**** Road of Bones, Piteå, Piteå Konsthall, 2023. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Andreas R Andersson.****Andreas R Andersson**** Road of Bones, Piteå, Piteå Konsthall, 2023. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Andreas R Andersson. It doesn’t have to argue or convince, it can make something felt, even when it’s difficult to articulate. For me, that’s important. Because these questions are not only political, they are also existential. They shape how we relate to the world, to each other, and to ourselves ### **6. How does Arctic light or darkness change the way you see a work while you are building it?** The Arctic light and darkness don’t just affect how I see the work, they become part of it because most of my work happens outside. During the long dark winters, I work closer, more intuitively. ****Andreas R Andersson**** Beowulf, Boden, Luleåbiennalen, 2024. Collaboration with Karl Sjölund. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Thomas Hämén I can’t rely on a full overview, so the process becomes more about trust and a focus on details. On the other hand, in the constant summer light, everything is exposed. Nothing disappears and that's when I usually finish my projects. ### **7. You work site specifically, but you show in Kunming, Vienna, Alaska. What happens to a work when the place it was made for does not travel with it?** That is an important question. I see my work as something temporary. If it’s made with materials from the local environment, I return them and restore the site. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** Showers / Wet soldiers, dries, crack and crumble, Stockholm, Gallery Industrigatan 12, 2017. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Gallery Industrigatan 12.****Andreas R Andersson:**** 15 Showers / Wet soldiers, dries, crack and crumble, Stockholm, Gallery Industrigatan 12, 2017. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Gallery Industrigatan 12.****Andreas R Andersson:**** 15 Showers / Wet soldiers, dries, crack and crumble, Stockholm, Gallery Industrigatan 12, 2017. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Gallery Industrigatan 12. If it involves more industrial or hazardous materials, I recycle or reuse them. So the work is always part of a cycle, rather than something fixed or final. ### **8. Your works combine handcrafted objects with mass produced everyday things. Where exactly is the seam between those two worlds, and why does it matter?** I’m not sure there is a clear seam between those two worlds. The handcrafted and the mass-produced are often treated as opposites, but in my work they start to overlap. Sometimes it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins, and that tension is where interesting things happen. It matters because it reflects how we live. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** A Barren Land, Left in Dust, Kiruna, Gamla fiskodlingen, 2021. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Konstfrämjandet Norrbotten.****Andreas R Andersson:**** The Thousand Yard Stare, Gothenburg, Gallery Box, 2013–2014. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Martin Hultén We move constantly between these worlds, often without noticing. The work doesn’t try to separate them, but to hold them together long enough for that relationship to become visible. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** Twin Studies, Omaha, Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts, 2017. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Andreas R Andersson.****Andreas R Andersson:**** Twin Studies, Omaha, Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts, 2017. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Andreas R Andersson. ### **9. If in twenty years everything your work warns against has come to pass, what emotion should the work produce then?** I’ve never really thought of my work as a warning. If anything, it’s closer to a form of attention to something overlooked, ignored or pushed aside. Instead, it might shift in the eyes of the viewer. What was once distant might feel closer. What once was abstract might become clearer and harder to ignore. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** The Thousand Yard Stare, Gothenburg, Gallery Box, 2013–2014. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Martin Hultén.****Andreas R Andersson:**** Fountains / Where the Flood Begins, Råneå, Råneå Konsthall, 2025. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Isak Anshelm. ### **10. Have you ever doubted whether art that refuses to provide answers can actually change anything?** Of course, I doubt everything, my art, myself, and the world around me. But I’ve come to see that doubt isn’t something that weakens the work; it’s what keeps it alive. If art only aimed to provide clear answers, it might stop asking questions and for me, that’s where its power lies! * * * Andersson's work exists in conditions that most contemporary art avoids: remote, slow, temporary, returned to the land when it is done. What a viewer encounters, whether in Anchorage or Amsterdam or Kiruna, is always the record of something that happened elsewhere, with different light and a different cold. The work does not try to bridge that distance. It holds it open, as a question that no image can quite close. Instagram Andreas R Andersson * * * ## About the Artist **Andreas R Andersson** (b. 1982, Sweden) is an artist based in Arvidsjaur, Sápmi, whose practice moves between installation, sculpture, and site-specific work. His work engages the extractive and military histories of Arctic landscapes, their slow ruin, their political weight, the tension between what industry leaves behind and what the land holds. ****Andreas R Andersson:**** Agonal Gasps, Umeå, Gallery Verkligheten, 2025. Courtesy of the artist. Photo by Fanny Carinasdotter. Andersson studied at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts, Stockholm; Valand Academy, Gothenburg; and Konstfack, Stockholm. He has been in residence at Pikene på Broen, Kirkenes; Bag Factory, Johannesburg; Swedish Lapland AIR, Kiruna; and the Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts, Omaha. His work has been shown internationally, including _Symptoms of a Blown Head Gasket_ , International Gallery of Contemporary Art, Anchorage; _On Fresh Soil_ , W139, Amsterdam; _The Choreography of Change_ , Konstmuseet i Norr, Kiruna; _Invisible_ , Nordica Studios, Kunming; _Mayro Clinic_ , Utica, New York; _Riots for Nothing_ , ONO Gallery, Oslo; _Walkers_ , Supermarket Art Fair, Stockholm; and _As the Breeze Moved On They Came to a Halt_ , Göteborgs Konsthall, Gothenburg **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## **More Readings:** Artist in Focus ## Sture Pallarp - Sculpting Memory Read More Exhibition ## Olivia Rode Hvass — Hunted Read More Exhibition ## Banks Violette — Wish You Were Here Read More

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Liget Gallery presents Asztrid Csatlós and Eszter Metzing in Budapest. Trace-making as relational act, not residue, but ongoing negotiation between body, material, and absence.

Archive of Contact

**Archive of Contact — Liget Gallery** **Artists:** Asztrid Csatlós, Eszter Metzing **Exhibition:** Archive of Contact **Venue:** Liget Gallery **City:** Budapest, Hungary **Dates:** March 19, 2026 — April 30, 2026 **Address:** H-1146 Budapest, Ajtósi Dürer sor 5. **Curator:** Bettina Bence **Text:** Bettina Bence **Photography:** Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Liget Gallery ## **Liget Gallery Presents Archive of Contact in Budapest** ### **Archive of Contact by Bettina Bence** The exhibition investigates the trace-making processes of human presence, with particular attention to the material, sensory, and spatial relationships in which presence emerges not as a fixed imprint but as an ongoing, relational phenomenon. In this context, the “trace” is not a residue or evidence but rather an event: a dynamic interplay between bodies, materials, environmental systems, and temporal layers. ****Csatlós Asztrid**** , Time Consumes All That It Has Created, 2026, Ink, acrylic on paper, 150 x 100 cm. Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery.Metzing Eszter, Fragile Remains Beneath the Skin, 2025, Borosilicate glass, latex, cotton canvas, transparent thread, pen, acrylic, varnish, cotton wool, 110 x 38 x 32 cm. Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery. The concept shifts away from narratives of representation and anthropocentric control, reinterpreting trace-making through the lenses of vulnerability, attention, and care. Human presence appears not as a dominating intervention but as an interaction that both shapes and is shaped by its environment. The trace is not a closed state but an ongoing process, in which presence and absence, the visible and the invisible, are in constant negotiation. The exhibition features Csatlós Asztrid and Metzing Eszter, who approach the subject from unique yet complementary perspectives. Both practices are material-centered and research-driven, treating materials not as mere carrier but as active agent in meaning-making. Their works question the relational structures between materials and media, as well as conventional notions of formal stability and closure. ****Csatlós Asztrid**** , Light and Illumination, 2025, Ink, acrylic on paper, 150 x 100 cm. Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the GalleryMetzing Eszter, Ingrained Contact, 2026, Borosilicate glass, latex, cotton canvas, transparent thread, pen, acrylic, varnish, cotton wool, 52 x 80 x 15 cm. Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the GalleryMetzing Eszter, Internal Rooting, 2026, Borosilicate glass, cotton canvas, transparent thread, cotton wool, variable dimensions. Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery. Csatlós Asztrid’s installations function as visual and spatial systems that explore questions of autonomy, transformation, and temporality. Integrating painterly elements, layered object formations, and audio-visual components, she creates complex environments situated at the threshold of fiction, speculative thought, and physical experience. Her use of materials, particularly biodegradable and recycled elements, is incorporated structurally rather than illustratively, emphasizing the mutual processes of transformation between humans and their environment. Csatlós Asztrid, Labyrinth of Transformation, 2026, Muslin, lost and found pieces, sand, salt, variable dimensions. Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery.Installation view, Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Works by Csatlós Asztrid and Metzing Eszter. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery.Installation view, Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Works by Csatlós Asztrid and Metzing Eszter. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery. Metzing Eszter’s work examines perception, memory, and corporeality through intimate and sensitive material relations. Employing textiles, latex, and glass, she constructs fragile, layered structures that become sites for exploring psychological states, bodily experience, and the instability of identity. Her practice places strong emphasis on tradition of craft and generational memory, not as nostalgic reference but as ongoing reconfigurations of remembrance and selfhood. The spatial dramaturgy of the exhibition is structured around a dialogue between the two artistic approaches. Csatlós’s systemic, speculative thinking is juxtaposed with Metzing’s intimate, embodied, and fragmented perspective. This juxtaposition does not aim for synthesis but generates a productive tension in which the concept of the trace can be experienced across multiple scales and sensory registers. Detail view, work by ****Metzing Eszter**** , Archive of Contact, Liget Gallery, Budapest, 2026. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery.Installation view, Archive of Contact, ****Liget Gallery**** , Budapest, 2026. Works by Csatlós Asztrid and Metzing Eszter. Photo by Barnabás Neogrády-Kiss. Courtesy of the Gallery. The exhibition creates a space of encounter in which trace-making is reinterpreted not as a gesture of domination or control but as an ethical and material responsibility. The focus is not on narrative closure but on processes, transitions, and resonances, offering viewers the opportunity to experience presence as a continuously evolving relational condition. _Bettina Bence_ * * * Instagram Liget Gallery Asztrid Csatlos on Instagram Eszter Metzing on Instagram**** **About Catapult** This is a exhibition review published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## **More Readings** Featured ## Stine Deja: Unveiling The Digital Psyche Through Artistic Innovation Read More Art Fairs ## Sebastian Schachinger: Redefining Time at Vienna Contemporary 2024 Read More Exhibition ## Banks Violette — Wish You Were Here — TICK TACK, Antwerp Read More

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Céline Struger works with steel, water, and archaic ceramic forms. A Catapult Artist in Focus on myth, material memory, and the agency of sites.

Steel Carries What Clay Remembers

**Céline Struger** **Based in:** lives and works in Vienna, Austria **Medium:** Sculpture, Installation; Steel, Ceramics, Water **Recent Exhibitions:** _Spiritual Warfare_ , ADA artistic dynamic association, 2025 **Website:** celinestruger.com **Instagram:** @celinestruger **Photography:** Kathrin Hanga, Tom Biela, Sofiia Yesakova, Robert Gruber **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the Artist ## Céline Struger - Artist in Focus Ceramic heads, archaic in form, some braided, some rough as worked stone, are mounted on industrial steel. Water runs through the pipes that hold them or pools below in flat trays. The material logic is deliberate: Céline Struger places the oldest human gesture in form-making onto contemporary infrastructure, and lets water decide what comes next. The sculptures don't stage a conflict between past and present. What holds them is more slippery. She seems to work from the idea that a site's spirit does not dissipate when a building changes use or falls into disrepair, that it migrates instead into the objects left behind, into whatever material is willing to absorb it. > Water inscribes time into matter without being asked. The pipe and the ceramic face are both, in that sense, archives. The argument runs across multiple series. EQUALIZER I holds a ceramic face at eye level: braided hair, open mouth, the surface texture of something excavated rather than made. ****Céline Struger**** , __EQUALIZER II__ , detail, steel, water, ceramics. Photo by Kathrin Hanga. ****Céline Struger**** , __EQUALIZER II__ , detail, steel, water, ceramics. Photo by Kathrin Hanga. It sits on a green steel tube held by fixtures rather than adhesive, as if the assembly could be reversed but hasn't been. The face carries the weight of a votive object, or an architectural one, something that belongs to a building that no longer exists. On the pipe it neither insists on this history nor abandons it. TROSTBLUMEN / Solace Flowers lies on the floor: fan-shaped panels of steel rusting in place, the material corroding under a layer of phosphorescent pigment. They glow in the dark without anyone present to witness it. The title is bilingual, German "Trostblumen," English "Solace Flowers," two words for the same comfort that neither language handles well alone. ****Céline Struger**** , __TROSTBLUMEN / Solace Flowers__ , 2025, steel, water, rust, phosphorescent pigment, 1 x 43 x 40 cm, 1 x 45 x 43 cm. Photo by Tom Biela. Other works carry the same structural commitments: TRANSVERSE ORIENTATION runs a line of water-filled trays across a floor threshold from one room to the next. MOTH AS IN MOTHER II holds a rough stoneware profile on a black steel rod in a vaulted white room. DIE VERHEISSUNG / The Foreboding sits flat. Each piece asks what the material already knows before the artist arrives. ****Céline Struger**** , __MOTH AS IN MOTHER II__ , 2025, steel, stoneware, 280 x 20 x 13 cm. Photo by Sofiia Yesakova.****Céline Struger**** , __TRANSVERSE ORIENTATION__ , 2025, steel, water, 7 x 90 x 580 cm. Photo by Kathrin Hanga.Exhibition view, __SPIRITUAL WARFARE__ , ADA, 2025. Photo by Kathrin Hanga.****Céline Struger**** , __A BLESSING AND A BURDEN__ , ceramics, 22 x 22 x 15 cm. Photo by Kathrin Hanga.****Céline Struger**** , __DIE VERHEISSUNG / The Foreboding__ , 2025, steel, water, 212 x 212 cm. What connects them is not a theme so much as a method. Rust, ceramic, and steel each carry information Struger has not added, and the work seems interested in that surplus, the histories stored in material behavior, the agency of objects when no one is watching. Struger's stated concerns, post-capitalism, mythology, collective consciousness, stay grounded here because they arrive through specific material decisions rather than through stated positions. A rusting steel flower is a historical claim, not a metaphor. An archaic face on a pipe is a structural argument, not a quotation. What she seems to be building across these works is a case for non-human agency: buildings, deserted sites, water, rust. The argument does not require a human witness to sustain itself. Instagram Céline Struger * * * ## More to Read Featured ## William Darrell: Kinetic Sculptures Inspired by Nature and Evolution Read More Exhibition ## Exhibition BEINGS & CREATURES CHAPTER 4: BEYOND THE TANGIBLE Read More Interview ## Melanie Daniel | Utopian & Dystopian Narratives Read More

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Jacob Bjørn Gallery presents Abel Kabel "GOT GUTS", figurative painting fusing pop-cultural symbols with personal narrative. Aarhus, April-May 2026.

Gut Feeling as a Compositional Principle

**GOT GUTS - Jacob Bjørn Gallery** **Artist:** Abel Kabel **Exhibition:** GOT GUTS **Venue:** Jacob Bjørn Gallery **City:** Aarhus, Denmark **Dates:** April 10, 2026 - May 10, 2026 **Address:** Mejlgade 35A, Aarhus **Photography:** Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Jacob Bjørn Gallery ### ## **Jacob Bjørn Gallery Presents Abel Kabel "GOT GUTS" in Aarhus** There's a kind of painting that doesn't preface itself. It lands with figures already surfacing from the dark, text already embedded in the ground, decisions already made and held. The work presents itself as evidence, not argument. That directness has an edge to it. It comes from somewhere personal and arrives looking like pop culture, or it comes from pop culture and arrives feeling personal. The two aren't always distinguishable. That's not a problem the work is trying to solve. > When painting lets biography and iconography share the same surface without separating them, the result isn't confusion. It's the thing that most painting tries to avoid saying. Jacob Bjørn Gallery's salon gallery occupies a courtyard at Mejlgade 35A in Aarhus, an intimate space that functions more like a room than an exhibition hall. Gray curtains, white walls held close. The work kept near. ****Abel Kabel**** , __GOT GUTS__ , 2026, installation in progress, Jacob Bjørn Gallery, Aarhus, Denmark. Courtesy of the artist and Jacob Bjørn Gallery. Photo: Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard.****Abel Kabel,**** __GOT GUTS__ , 2026, installation in progress, ****Jacob Bjørn Gallery**** , Aarhus, Denmark. Courtesy of the artist and Jacob Bjørn Gallery. Photo: Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard. For **** Abel Kabel's first solo there, the gallery receives an entirely new series of paintings on canvas and paper, made in the intuitive, figurative mode the artist has developed over recent years. Some of these works are large enough to change the physical experience of the room. The exhibition is titled "GOT GUTS," and the largest canvases seem to justify the name before you've read anything about them. One work carries the phrase "CEASE 2 EXIST" across its upper register, painted in scratched, insistent lettering against a dense black ground. Below the text, a figure holds a composition that draws from recognizable cultural imagery and something more private: striped legs, a body that seems to carry several references at once without resolving into any of them. Two yellow marks anchor the upper corners, not decorative, closer to punctuation. The canvas is large enough that the artist, standing with both arms spread across it, barely covers the width. Abel Kabel, __GOT GUTS__ , 2026, installation in progress, Jacob Bjørn Gallery, Aarhus, Denmark. Courtesy of the artist and Jacob Bjørn Gallery. Photo: Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard****Abel Kabel,**** __GOT GUTS__ , 2026, installation in progress, Jacob Bjørn Gallery, Aarhus, Denmark. Courtesy of the artist and Jacob Bjørn Gallery. Photo: Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard.Abel Kabel, __GOT GUTS__ , 2026, installation in progress, Jacob Bjørn Gallery, Aarhus, Denmark. Courtesy of the artist and Jacob Bjørn Gallery. Photo: Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard.****Abel Kabel**** , __GOT GUTS__ , 2026, installation in progress, Jacob Bjørn Gallery, Aarhus, Denmark. Courtesy of the artist and Jacob Bjørn Gallery. Photo: Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard. A second, taller work operates at a different register. Several figures in a vertical composition, one in a yellow-printed garment standing against layers of dark paint and exposed brown canvas. The raw ground reads as active rather than unfinished; the ochre and skin tones of bare canvas participate in the work's color logic rather than waiting to be covered. Pop-cultural symbols surface throughout, a printed textile, the cropped gesture of a figure's torso, a scorpion drawn in outline, without being identified or contextualized. The paintings carry their references the way a person carries theirs: fluently, without commentary. Figurative painting with roots in pop imagery has been returning to questions of legibility, how much to name, how much to withhold, whether the personal and the cultural can register at the same pitch. Kabel's approach doesn't adjudicate that question. The paintings fuse both registers so completely that separating them would change what they are. ****Abel Kabel**** , __GOT GUTS__ , 2026, installation in progress, Jacob Bjørn Gallery, Aarhus, Denmark. Courtesy of the artist and Jacob Bjørn Gallery. Photo: Magnus Flyvholm Damgaard. What comes through is something closer to fluency than citation, a vocabulary that developed inside the work, not as a relationship to it. The objects and symbols that appear don't announce themselves as references; they surface the way things surface when you know them too well to see them clearly. Whether that reads as confidence or compulsion is probably something the work doesn't need to decide. * * * Instagram ABEL KABEL Instagram Jacob Bjørn Gallery * * * Abel Kabel: The Danish Artist Turning Perfectionism on Its HeadDelve into the creative evolution of Danish artist Abel Kabel. Discover how music, graffiti, and crude energy drive his playful yet profound creations.CatapultDominique Catherina Foertig **About Catapult** This is a exhibition review published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * Featured ## Mona Broschár: Masterfully Transforming Everyday Objects Into Desirable Paintings Read More Exhibition ## Carlo Zappella: The Seamless Switch at Stadtgalerie Raumimpuls Read More Interview ## Taylor Anton White gets real about failure, process, and why he paints like he's holding the brush wrong on purpose Read More

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Stasia Grishina works with sculpture and installation. Based in Frankfurt. A Catapult Artist in Focus on power, domestication, and the cost of shelter.

The Cost of Protection - Stasia Grishina in Focus.

**Stasia Grishina** **Born:** United Kingdom **Based in:** Frankfurt, Germany **Medium:** Sculpture, Installation, Objects **Education:** HfG Offenbach, Stage Design & Sculpture **Recent Exhibitions:** _Rundgang HfG_ , Offenbach, 2025 _Niemandsland_ (group), Offenbach, 2025 _Depend upon Man_ (solo), Fābula Gallery, Moscow, 2024 **Website:** stasiagrishina.com **Instagram:** @art.stasia **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the Artist ## Stasia Grishina - Frankfurt, sculpture and installation Something in **Stasia Grishina's work** enters the room on all fours. Her sculptures and installations place the human figure in architectures built for animals, and refuse to explain the arrangement. She works with found wood, discarded furniture, aluminum, and materials that carry traces of domestic life: not as nostalgia, but as evidence of how structures of care and control become indistinguishable. ****Stasia Grishina**** , __Work in progress__ , 2026, studio view, Frankfurt, Germany. Mixed materials including plaster, wood, and wax. Courtesy of the artist. ****Stasia Grishina**** , __Work in progress__ (studio detail), 2026, Artist in Focus by Catapult. Sculptural components emerge through layering, carving, and assembly, holding traces of both control and accident. Courtesy of the artist. ****Stasia Grishina,**** __Work in progress__ , 2026, Artist in Focus by Catapult. Casting fragments and forming elements reveal an ongoing process between body, object, and transformation. Courtesy of the artist. The dog is a recurring figure in her work, not as symbol but as structural argument. In the William Cowper poem that provides the title for her _Depend Upon Man_ series, animals endure dependence and discover "at how dear a rate / he sells protection." Grishina's sculptures hold that sentence up and turn it slowly. The figure that is supposed to be in control keeps slipping into the posture of the subordinated. > The shelter does not protect from the cold. It protects from reality itself. _Man on all fours_ (2025) places a figure in a dark suit inside a hand-built wooden structure just large enough to crawl into, a doghouse assembled from found panels, its patchwork roof composed of offcuts in different colors. The figure is visible only from behind: legs extended, shoes on the floor. ****Stasia Grishina**** , __Man on all fours__ , 2025, installation view, Rundgang HfG, HfG Main-Building, Offenbach am Main, Germany. Wooden panels, rigging, clothes, 100 × 200 × 100 cm. Courtesy of the artist.****Stasia Grishina**** , __Man on all fours__ (detail), 2025, Artist in Focus by Catapult, Rundgang HfG, Offenbach am Main. A suited figure withdraws into a fragile doghouse structure built from found wood. Courtesy of the artist****Stasia Grishina**** , __Man on all fours__ , 2025, Artist in Focus by Catapult. Installation view at HfG Offenbach. The phrase “Home sweet home” appears on the soles, turning shelter into a psychological construct rather than protection. Courtesy of the artist. On the soles: "Home sweet home." The phrase has arrived emptied of comfort. The installation does not dramatize the situation. The shelter is fragile, imperfect; the stability it offers is entirely psychological. That a suited adult would need this, and that the need seems credible, is where the work holds its pressure. _'What matters is the Degree of Sincerity'_ (2024) approaches the same territory differently. Dog-shaped figures assembled from discarded cupboards, doors, and panels are placed on podiums draped in theatrical fabric. ****Stasia Grishina**** , __What matters is the Degree of Sincerity__ , 2024, installation view, Unopened Rundgang HfG, GROW, Offenbach am Main, Germany. Wooden panels, rigging, fabric, epoxy, 515 × 150 × 203 cm. Courtesy of the artist.****Stasia Grishina**** , __What matters is the Degree of Sincerity__ , 2024, Artist in Focus by Catapult. Dog-like figures assembled from discarded cupboards and panels stage a space of attachment, observation, and power. Courtesy of the artist. The rough construction makes no attempt at naturalism, it carries what the material was before, domestic furniture turned into bodies under observation. The installation describes what Grishina calls a space of "attachment, observation, and power," positioning the viewer inside it without announcing a verdict. The _Depend Upon Man_ works extend the inquiry into ceremony. _Depend Upon Man II_ , shown at Fābula Gallery in Moscow, fills a dark industrial hangar with tall aluminum panels etched with dog forms, dozens of candles burning along their tops, water below. ****Stasia Grishina**** , __DEPEND UPON MAN II__ , 2024, installation view, __Depend upon Man__ (solo exhibition), Fābula Gallery (hangar), Moscow, Russia. Aluminium, plywood, candles, water, pebbles, sound, motors, 305 × 240 × 130 cm. Photo: Natalia Melikova. Courtesy of the artist.****Stasia Grishina,**** __DEPEND UPON MAN II__ , 2024, Artist in Focus by Catapult. Aluminium panels with dog forms stand in a field of candlelight, staging a controlled sequence of light, sound, and duration. Photo: Natalia Melikova. Courtesy of the artist. Every three minutes: a bang. At the end, candles are extinguished in the water. Cold light remains. The mechanics of the ritual are precise. Its subject is not named. Grishina trained in stage design and sculpture, a combination visible in how her installations occupy space. They function as situations rather than displays. The human-animal threshold in her practice holds a compressed model of social relations that extend much further: who has the right to observe, who becomes the subject of study, who needs the shelter and at what cost. ****Stasia Grishina,**** __Looking for smth. more__ , 2025, Artist in Focus by Catapult. Dog silhouettes emerge from layered maps and printed fragments, forming a shifting boundary between territory, body, and image. Courtesy of the artist.****Stasia Grishina,**** __Looking for smth. more__ , 2025, installation view, __GUCK MAL DRÜBER NACH__ (group exhibition), Hafenspace, Offenbach am Main, Germany. Maps, pencil, 610 × 210 cm. Courtesy of the artist.****Stasia Grishina**** , __Schnauze__ , 2025, installation view, __NIEMANDSLAND__ (group exhibition), Bundesstraße 448, Offenbach am Main, Germany. Wood, rigging, 300 × 275 × 75 cm. Courtesy of the artist.****Stasia Grishina**** , __Schnauze__ , 2025, Artist in Focus by Catapult. A low, mobile structure interrupts the road beneath a bridge, shifting between obstacle, stage, and temporary architecture. Courtesy of the artist.****Stasia Grishina**** , __The Ballad of the Fall__ , 2024, installation view, __Borrowed Flowers__ (group exhibition), Hafenspace, Offenbach am Main, Germany. Wooden panels, rigging, horse tail, 205 × 184 × 13 cm. Courtesy of the artist Exhibiting across Germany, Russia, and Armenia, her practice maintains a consistency of argument across formally unlike work, the hand-built shelter, the etched aluminum panel, the wall-scale map collage, without resolving into a single statement. What the work does not do is offer an exit. The figure in the doghouse does not emerge, because the condition it describes is not temporary. Instagram Stasia Grishina **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Related Readings: Featured ## Friedrich Herz Turns Broken Furniture into Brutal Sculpture Read More Featured ## Ernst Koslitsch with his Yellow Universe and the Ideas around Systems of Beliefs Read More Interview ## Laurentius Sauer: Redefining Contemporary Painting with Post Vandalism Read More

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VUNU Vienna presents Tudor Ciurescu's ELEGIA - taxidermy, painting, and dark wood frames tracking desire after authority's retreat. Through May 2026.

Still Life with Collapsed Ideology

**ELEGIA - VUNU Vienna** **Artist:** Tudor Ciurescu **Exhibition:** ELEGIA **Venue:** VUNU Vienna **City:** Vienna, Austria **Dates:** 26 March 2026 - 9 May 2026 **Address:** Florianigasse 51A, Vienna **Text:** Aleksei Borisionok **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist ## VUNU Gallery Presents ELEGIA by Tudor Ciurescu in Vienna Authority doesn't vanish cleanly. It drains out, slowly, unevenly, leaving the images behind. A portrait, a theory, a religious form: these persist after the certainty that generated them has been quietly withdrawn, and what remains is neither sacred nor dismissed but suspended, still circulating, still doing something. What exactly it does when it circulates through the internet, through meme culture, through algorithmic noise. This is the question **Tudor Ciurescu** seems most interested in pressing on. The image of Freud doesn't disappear when psychoanalysis loses institutional dominance. It becomes something else: ambient, available, slightly ridiculous, still charged. > Desire and ideology share a structural problem: neither knows what to do with itself once the project to which it belonged has dissolved. **VUNU's Vienna space on Florianigasse** , a narrow, high-ceilinged room with a pale green shopfront facade and herringbone parquet floors, carries the particular weight of bourgeois Viennese interior without being theatrical about it. Ciurescu leans into this. Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , Tudor Ciurescu, VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska.Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , Tudor Ciurescu, VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska.Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , Tudor Ciurescu, VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska The dark brown wood of pedestals and frames reads as period furniture, cabinets, parlors, circular moldings, repurposed as a staging apparatus for images that have no comfortable home. _L'urgenza Eterna_ (2026) occupies the room's center. Two white taxidermied rabbits are fixed in the act of copulation on a marble surface atop a dark wood cabinet. The whiteness is clinical, almost laboratory, and the marble carries associations of anatomy tables and bourgeois domestic interiors simultaneously. The act depicted is entirely mechanical, driven by instinct without intention, and Ciurescu places it at eye level on what functions formally as a display plinth. No irony is signaled. The work doesn't announce itself. It simply sits there, performing. Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , Tudor Ciurescu, VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska. Sfantul Ieronim a Plecat (Saint Jerome Has Left), Tudor Ciurescu, 2026. Acrylic on linen, wood. Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska. Prapor / Vera Renczi, Tudor Ciurescu, 2026. Acrylic on linen, wood. Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska _Prapor / Vera Renczi_ (2026) introduces a figure whose authority is of a different order. Vera Renczi, a Romanian woman believed to have poisoned around thirty-five men beginning in the 1920s, appears here in acrylic on linen, her portrait rendered in monochromatic grey washes, set within a dark wood prapor: the liturgical banner form used in Romanian Orthodox processions. The painting is loose, almost faded. The face partially dissolved into gesture. The frame structure, with legs extending downward rather than mounting flush to the wall, reads as both ecclesiastical object and something slightly unstable, as if the form were prepared to move. Prapor / Vera Renczi, Tudor Ciurescu, 2026. Acrylic on linen, wood. Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska. S.F. Dartboard, Tudor Ciurescu, 2026. Wood, charcoal on paper, 925 silver plated metal. Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska. _S.F. Dartboard_ (2026) hangs nearby: Freud's face rendered in charcoal on silver-plated paper, framed in dark wood scored with concentric rings, two darts embedded in the image, one at the eye, one at the forehead. The work holds its reference lightly. It derives from a scene in Dušan Makavejev's _W.R.: Mysteries of the Organism_ (1971), where a dartboard portrait of Freud appears alongside Reich's photograph in communist domestic life. Ciurescu imports the image without commentary. The image already carries its own freight: the deflation of psychoanalytic authority into a leisure object, violence half-disguised as a game. L’urgenza Eterna, Tudor Ciurescu, 2026. Taxidermy, wood, marble. Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska Installation view, __ELEGIA__ , Tudor Ciurescu, VUNU Vienna, Vienna, 2026. Courtesy VUNU Vienna and the artist. Photo by Dominika Goralska _Sfântul Ieronim a Plecat (Saint Jerome Has Left)_ (2026) offers the exhibition's most precise structural statement. After Albrecht Dürer's 1514 woodcut of the scholar in his study, Ciurescu renders the space without the saint. The vaulted room, the shelves, the accumulated objects of study, all present. The disciplined figure who organized the scene has been removed. What remains is a room whose purpose is no longer legible. Labor without a laborer. Research without a subject. These works arrive at a moment when authority, institutional, intellectual, sexual, political is visibly struggling to maintain coherence. Ciurescu doesn't argue a position on this. He treats it as a condition: a dark forest, in Aleksei Borisionok's framing, its terrain shaped by algorithms and historical sediment in equal measure. What the map shows isn't resolution. The images remain magnetic after their arguments have weakened, attracting and repelling, holding their shapes in the absence of what once justified them. The Freud dartboard keeps its darts. The rabbits continue. 𝙏𝙪𝙙𝙤𝙧 𝘾𝙞𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙪 on Instagram**** VUNU Gallery on Instagram**** **About Catapult** This is a exhibition review published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## More Readings Artist in Focus ## SCULPTING REALITIES: FRANK BRECHTER'S VISIONARY APPROACH TO CONTEMPORARY REALISM Read More Exhibition ## Michael Beutler at Z33 - Curated by Tim Roerig Read More Artist Spotlight ## Nadine Karl: Installations Where Time, Memory, and Space Fall Out of Sync Read More

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LUFT Festival presents Unconscious Paradises at Gallery GAFU in Ostrava. Seven artists on inner space, bliss, and the limits of self-knowledge. April-May 2026.

The Inner World Doesn't Have an Entrance

**Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises - Gallery GAFU** **Artists:** Jiří Baštyř, Botond Keresztesi, Sabina Knetlová, Paula Malinowska, Limi.noko, Stach Szumski, Kateřina Šantrochová **Exhibition:** Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises **Venue:** Gallery GAFU **City:** Ostrava, Czech Republic **Dates:** 15 April 2026 - 15 May 2026 **Curators:** Jakub Černý, Dominika Goralska, Barbora Mikudová **Photography:** Dominika Goralska **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival ## **LUFT Festival Presents Unconscious Paradises at Gallery GAFU, Ostrava** Paradise tends to be positioned as a place: somewhere ahead, somewhere earned. _Unconscious Paradises_ , part of the **6th edition of the LUFT audiovisual festival** , treats it differently, as something already present but partially inaccessible, an inner register that cannot be approached directly. That distinction shifts the whole premise. What curators **Jakub Černý, Dominika Goralska, and Barbora Mikudová** have assembled isn't a show about peace. It's a show about the difficulty of knowing what you want, and whether the act of wanting changes what it is. > _Paradise, when located inside the self, becomes a question about the self. Whether that question can be answered is precisely what this exhibition leaves open._ **GAFU** occupies a modern gallery volume in Ostrava. Polished concrete floors, structural columns, clerestory light cutting across white walls. The space is spare without being cold, and the exhibition uses its architecture deliberately. Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Sculptural and textile forms arranged across the gallery space. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska.Limi.noko – Regio Silens, performance and Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Exhibition view. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska.Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , ****Gallery GAFU**** , Ostrava, 2026. Wall-based and freestanding works in spatial dialogue. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska. Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska. An aluminum structural frame, the kind ordinarily specified for window curtain walls, stands freestanding in the middle of the room. A large-format painting hangs suspended within it. The CE certification markings are still printed along the profile edge, which seems right: paradise, here, is always installed inside some other structure. Sabina Knetlová's grey cement sculptures anchor the room. Two figures share a single body, distinct but conjoined, seated, attentive, hands raised with eyes set into the palms where fingers would be. They face outward without urgency. Smaller single-headed forms occupy plain wooden plinths alongside shallow troughs of raw earth and soil. The material logic is quiet and cumulative: there's something between the archaic and the freshly made in these works, as if they belong to a time that hasn't arrived yet. The amber wall piece by Limi.noko carries its own internal weather. A shaped panel of deep rust-colored resin, textured like coral seen from above, holds white cast forms at its lower edge, bone-adjacent shapes and what appear to be kanji-like characters pressed into the surface. The resin absorbs and deflects light depending on where you stand. The work seems less like a depiction than a preserved condition: something that was already there, extracted and made legible. Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Limi.noko – Regio Silens, performance and installation. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. (left) Stach Szumski – Coral as Brick, 2024, porcelain and ceramic, 120 x 100 cm (right) work by Jiří Baštýř, Sabina Knetlová. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska. Stach Szumski – The culture of burnt horizon VI, 2025, ceramics, 70 x 50 x 20 cm Installation view , __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska.Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska.Jiří Baštýř – Complete self-portrait, 2024, charcoal on canvas, 190 x 285 cm Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska. Paula Malinowska's painting reaches. A large hand extends across a blue-to-pink gradient sky toward reflective spheres containing forest interiors and fragmented faces; bare winter trees stand in the background, a fish arcing below the waterline. The surrealism doesn't read as decorative, it feels like the logic of an almost-remembered dream, where proximity substitutes for causality and the image holds just long enough to seem real before it slides. Stach Szumski places a small skeletal figure on a mound of earth in the middle of the floor. Upright, spindly, made of what appears to be cast material resembling bone or salt, it stands without apparent destination. Beside it, a freestanding board leans against the wall with a handwritten Czech text that reads: _Současné umění milujeme tě, ale je čas jít dál... Floresance začala!!!_ , "Contemporary art, we love you, but it's time to move on... The Floressance has started." The tone is deadpan and slightly absurd, which makes it sit more comfortably in the room than a serious institutional statement would. Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska. Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Exhibition view of sculptural and object-based works. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska.Botond Keresztesi – Once in a while, I’ll lost everything, 2026, acrylic and oil on canvas, 120 x 110 cm - Installation view, __Nevědomé ráje / Unconscious Paradises__ , Gallery GAFU, Ostrava, 2026. Courtesy Gallery GAFU / LUFT Festival. Photo by Dominika Goralska. At a moment when image-production is essentially continuous and the inner life is perpetually asked to represent itself outward, the question of what cannot be extracted, what remains genuinely unconscious, becomes harder to answer and more pressing. The artists here don't offer resolution. The rabbit hole, as the curators note in their framing, is part of the structure. What it opens onto is still being found. **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Artists to Follow: Instagram Jakub Černý Instagram Dominika Goralska Instagram Barbora Mikudová Instagram Jiří Baštýř Instagram Botond Keresztesi Instagram Sabina Knetlová Instagram Paula Malinowska Instagram Limi.noko Instagram Stach Szumski Instagram Kateřina Šantrochová * * * Featured ## Stine Deja: Unveiling The Digital Psyche Through Artistic Innovation Read More Art Fairs ## Sebastian Schachinger: Redefining Time at Vienna Contemporary 2024 Read More Exhibition ## Banks Violette — Wish You Were Here — TICK TACK, Antwerp Read More

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JesuitenFoyer Vienna presents PARLAMENT by Jörg Reissner. Installation from scrap MDF, plywood, and canvas, arranged at eye level.

A Parliament Where Nothing Stands on a Pedestal

**PARLAMENT - JesuitenFoyer** **Artist:** Jörg Reissner **Exhibition:** PARLAMENT **Venue:** JesuitenFoyer **City:** Vienna, Austria **Dates:** April 2026 **Text:** Gustav Schörghofer SJ ## JesuitenFoyer Presents PARLAMENT by Jörg Reissner There is a political argument embedded in how objects occupy space. Whether something is elevated, displayed behind glass, or placed on the floor already tells you something about the hierarchy it belongs to, and the one it enforces. What would a room full of things that refuse to be exhibits actually look like? The philosopher Bruno Latour spent decades arguing that non-human things, rivers, soil, tools, offcuts, deserve a voice in democratic decision-making, not as metaphor but as institutional fact. His proposition of a parliament that included objects remained largely theoretical. Some artists have been staging it anyway. > When nothing in a room is hung or elevated, the space becomes a meeting rather than a display. The question isn't what the objects represent, it's what they're proposing. The JesuitenFoyer in Vienna is not a neutral container. It carries the weight of Jesuit tradition, intellectual rigor, attentiveness to material culture, a long-standing negotiation between spiritual practice and the visible world. Jörg Reissner's PARLAMENT fills this space not as a response to its architecture but as a kind of quiet friction against it. Everything is placed, leaned, laid, or stacked. Nothing is hung. ****Jörg Reissner**** , __PARLAMENT__ , 2026, installation view, JesuitenFoyer, Vienna. Floor-based sculptural forms in scrap MDF, plywood, and canvas arranged without hierarchy at eye level, Courtesy of the artist and JesuitenFoyer. The objects are cut from MDF boards, plywood sheets, and canvas, consistently from scrap, from the offcuts and remainders of earlier work. This isn't incidental. The material carries the logic of the thing: these forms were already surplus before they became art. Their colors are restricted to black, white, and reseda green, a muted silvered hue that sits closer to absence than accent. The shapes read as a taxonomy of cultural memory at low resolution. Silhouettes reminiscent of Scherenschnitte, paper-cut traditions from Central European folk art, alternate with outlines that suggest architectural ornament: battlements, domes, the decorative trim of rural farmhouses. Elsewhere: flames, skulls, mushrooms, plant leaves. Accumulated, not arranged. Circled, not ranked. The forms hold references to both the living and the dead without distinguishing between them, and the circular groupings seem less like composition than like a vote that hasn't been counted yet. ****Jörg Reissner**** , __PARLAMENT__ , 2026, installation view, JesuitenFoyer, Vienna. Sculptural assemblage from scrap MDF, plywood, and canvas positioned directly on the floor without pedestals, Courtesy of the artist and JesuitenFoyer. ****Jörg Reissner**** , __PARLAMENT__ , 2026, installation views, JesuitenFoyer, Vienna. Floor-based sculptural configurations in scrap MDF, plywood, and canvas, forming unstable assemblies at eye level, Courtesy of the artist and JesuitenFoyer. Jörg Reissner, __PARLAMENT__ , 2026, installation views, JesuitenFoyer, Vienna. Floor-based arrangements of cut MDF, plywood, and canvas panels forming layered compositions without elevation, Courtesy of the artist and JesuitenFoyer. ****Jörg Reissne**** r, __PARLAMENT__ , 2026, installation view (detail), JesuitenFoyer, Vienna. Layered panel composition with cut botanical silhouettes in black, white, and reseda green, set directly on the floor, Courtesy of the artist and JesuitenFoyer. What matters most is what the works do together at this scale. At eye level, touching the floor, slightly unstable in their groupings, they create the impression of a civilization assembling itself, or possibly mid-collapse. The press text accompanying the exhibition holds both readings simultaneously: the world these objects build is fragile, and a little funny. That combination is harder to achieve than it sounds. Latour died in 2022, and interest in his framework has sharpened since, partly as philosophical resource, partly as a provocation for art that wants to think about agency beyond the human. Reissner doesn't illustrate this argument. He installs it. The horizontal organization, the refusal of the pedestal, the consistent use of scrap that once would have been discarded, these are formal decisions that carry political weight without declaring it. The floor is not a default in this work. It's a position. ****Jörg Reissner**** , __PARLAMENT__ , 2026, installation view (detail), JesuitenFoyer, Vienna. Small-scale floor assembly of layered cut MDF and plywood elements in black, natural wood, and green, Courtesy of the artist and JesuitenFoyer. There is something unresolved about a room where everything competes for the same level ground. It feels provisional, like a meeting that hasn't yet come to order, and the work offers no resolution, only the ongoing fact of all these things insisting on being present. Instagram Jörg Reisner Read the Full Text by Gustav Schörghofer **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * Featured ## Łukasz Horbów: Art as Resistance to Nationalism and Alienation Read More Exhibition ## Ibrahim Mahama at Kunsthalle Wien: When History Becomes Material Read More Interview ## TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol Presents Mein Österreich in Innsbruck Read More

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Jeyoon Ryu works in ceramic sculpture. Born in South Korea, based in Kyoto. A Catapult Artist in Focus on clay, migration, and transformation.

The Landscape That Lives Inside the Bird

**Jeyoon Ryu** **Born:** South Korea **Based in:** Kyoto, Japan **Medium:** Ceramic sculpture, glazed ceramics, gold luster **Recent Exhibitions:** _Ryu Jeyoon Exhibition_ , Gallery Main, Tokyo, 2024 **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the Artist ## **Jeyoon Ryu - South Korea / Kyoto, ceramic sculpture** The outer form holds a world inside it. A seagull's wings spread not into air but into landscape, mountains, ocean, a sun on one side, a crescent moon on the other. The creature and its territory are not separate; the bird carries the island, and the island shapes the bird. This structural move, the container that is also the contained, runs through the entire practice at different scales and in different materials. Form here never resolves as purely formal. It establishes the tension the work inhabits: between holding and releasing, between staying and crossing, between a geography left behind and one not yet arrived at. > "Objects may appear complete but contain internal elements that suggest further change." - Jeyoon Ryu In _Seagull Crossing Between Two Islands_ , the gull's spread body becomes a diptych: each wing holds a landscape, sun and moon marking opposite ends of a single crossing. The gold accents that appear consistently across the work, on birds, foxes, celestial bodies, the one moving figure in almost every scene, are not ornamental. Gold marks the point of activation, what moves, what persists in transit. ****Jeyoon Ryu**** , glazed ceramic with gold luster, courtesy of the artist.****Jeyoon Ryu**** , __In My Hometown, Seoul__ , glazed ceramic with gold luster, courtesy of the artist.****Jeyoon Ryu**** , __Seagull Crossing Between Two Islands__ , glazed ceramic with gold luster, courtesy of the artist.****Jeyoon Ryu**** , __Seagull Crossing Between Two Islands__ , detail, glazed ceramic with gold luster, courtesy of the artist.****Jeyoon Ryu**** , __Scars, too, can be painted into beauty__ , glazed ceramic, courtesy of the artist. The moon jar operates differently. _Moon jar6_ takes a Korean ceramic form, associated with Joseon Dynasty pottery and its austere, quietly full silhouette, and covers its surface in two scripts: Japanese kanji and Korean hangul, pressed into the clay as if the vessel carries what neither language can hold alone. This is not homage to tradition. It uses the vessel form as a container for a present condition: a body that belongs to two linguistic cultures simultaneously. Eggs, birds, islands: the recurring motifs name the poles of the practice. Eggs hold what has not yet become. Birds cross. Islands mark the condition of being bounded, by water, by language, by origin. The architectural figures that appear elsewhere, poles, chapel-like structures, a torii gate standing in a Seoul cityscape, function as coordinates within these crossings, establishing location without fixing it. Jeyoon Ryu, __Sanctuary of Mothers__ , glazed ceramic with gold luster, courtesy of the artist.****Jeyoon Ryu**** , __Seagull Crossing Between Two Islands__ , glazed ceramic with gold luster, courtesy of the artist. Born on a small island in South Korea, Jeyoon Ryu is based in Kyoto, Japan. The movement between these two cultural contexts is not biographical background, it is the methodology. Korea and Japan share a history that each script on the moon jar carries without naming; the artist places both languages on the same surface and leaves the clay to hold the distance between them. An exhibition at Gallery Main, Tokyo in 2024 placed the work in dialogue with Japanese craft traditions without collapsing into them. The sculptures read against both Korean and Japanese ceramics lineages and settle fully into neither. What the objects hold remains held, without resolution. Instagram Gallery Main Tokio Instagram Jeyoon Ryu * * * ## **More Readings** Featured ## Decoding Kitsch: Florian Genzken's Aesthetic Fascination Read More Exhibition ## Veronika Günther with Popular Problems — The Tiger Room, Munich Read More Interview ## John Trashkowsky: "Subvertique" — Between the Object and the Message Read More

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Vivienne Sun at a.d.b.k. Nürnberg. Sculptures from medical furniture, resin, and wood suspended between care and control.

Care and Control Share a Vocabulary

**Liminality - Vivienne Sun at a.d.b.k. Nürnberg** **Artist:** Vivienne Sun **Exhibition:** Liminality **Venue:** Akademie der Bildenden Künste Nürnberg (a.d.b.k.) **City:** Nürnberg, Germany **Dates:** February 6, 2026 - February 8, 2026 **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy of the artist and their respective authors ## Vivienne Sun at (a.d.b.k.) Nürnberg with Liminality in Nürnberg Most furniture makes a claim on the body. A hospital bed describes weight and duration; an examination chair specifies posture, compliance, access. These forms don't only accommodate, they organize. What distinguishes medical equipment from domestic furniture is not the function it serves but the degree of authority it holds over the body it receives. Care and control, within such structures, are rarely distinguishable from one another. What Vivienne Sun's exhibition surfaces is the moment when that authority is withdrawn. Not dismantled, still present, still fully legible, but held in suspension. The equipment remains. The procedure does not begin. > **The structures in _Liminality_ are not broken. They are functionally complete and permanently pending, fixtures of an institution that knows exactly what it intends to do, and has not yet decided whether it will.** Shown across three days in February at a.d.b.k. Nürnberg, one of Germany's oldest art academies, a building that carries its own institutional weight, Sun's _Liminality_ occupied a large, industrially lit space with floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto bare winter trees. The brevity of the exhibition is itself liminal: three days, long enough to be experienced, too short to settle. It existed in the threshold between announcement and archive. ****Vivienne Sun**** , Akademie der Bildenden Künste Nürnberg (a.d.b.k.), Liminality, Nürnberg, Germany, February 6 – February 8, 2026. All images courtesy of the artist.****Vivienne Sun,**** Akademie der Bildenden Künste Nürnberg (a.d.b.k.), Liminality, Nürnberg, Germany, February 6 – February 8, 2026. All images courtesy of the artist. The central work holds the exhibition's argument most directly. A hospital-style reclining chair, adjustable, fully articulated, carries a proliferation of black organic forms: coiling, thorned, reaching structures that grow from the frame, the armrests, the back. White pillows remain on the seat. The chair is prepared for a body. To use it, a body would have to negotiate these growths, and the work seems to know, with some certainty, that it will not. Function is not removed; it is made conditional on a willingness to enter that never arrives. A large green glass carboy, the kind used in laboratories and fermentation vessels alike, sits on a wheeled wooden cart, white textile draped around its base. The vessel appears sealed. The cart's wheels suggest transit; the cloth, containment or protection. Together they describe a preparation for a procedure that has been postponed indefinitely. The handmade quality of the wooden structure frames the industrial vessel without resolving the material difference between them; the two logics coexist without merging. ****Vivienne Sun**** , Akademie der Bildenden Künste Nürnberg (a.d.b.k.), Liminality, Nürnberg, Germany, February 6 – February 8, 2026. All images courtesy of the artist. Two wall-mounted works bring institutional imagery directly into the exhibition's frame. Photographs mounted on golden-hued, puzzle-piece wooden brackets depict what appears to be a hospital interior, an institutional space reproduced within an institutional space. The supports are precise enough to be structural, warm enough in material to suggest craft. They hold the images at a slight remove from the wall, as if the photographs themselves are in transit between surfaces, not quite hung, not quite arriving. The territory Sun works in is not unmapped. The body's management within medical and administrative systems has accumulated both a significant theoretical literature and a substantial artistic one. What _Liminality_ adds is a structural argument: that the forms themselves, independent of any body actually present, already perform the condition. ****Vivienne Sun**** , Akademie der Bildenden Künste Nürnberg (a.d.b.k.), Liminality, Nürnberg, Germany, February 6 – February 8, 2026. All images courtesy of the artist. A tilted bed with no patient is not an empty bed. It is a bed in a state of specific readiness, anticipation with nowhere to deposit itself. This is the condition Sun identifies as characteristic of the contemporary: institutions, systems of knowledge, structures of care that continue to operate while the terms of their operation remain permanently unsettled. Unable to return, not fully arrived. Vivienne Sun, Akademie der Bildenden Künste Nürnberg (a.d.b.k.), Liminality, Nürnberg, Germany, February 6 – February 8, 2026. All images courtesy of the artist. The windows in the space looked onto bare trees. The equipment is presumably in storage now, still articulated, still tilted, still prepared. Instagram Vivianne Sun Instagram Akademie der Bildenden Künste Nürnberg **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## More Readings Artist in Focus ## Martha Kicsiny: Light, Power, and the Material Weight of the Cloud Read More Exhibition ## Kyriaki Goni with Telling the Bees at The Breeder, Athens Read More Interview ## Mark Van Wagner Paints with Sand and Lets Time Do the Rest Read More

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Sinne presents Maija Fox's Hard Shoulders in Helsinki. Cast metal and woven wire where infrastructure and marsh ecology meet. Curated by Markus Aström

Everything That Accelerates Leaves Something Behind

**Hard Shoulders - Sinne** **Artist:** Maija Fox **Exhibition:** Hard Shoulders **Venue:** Sinne **City:** Helsinki, Finland **Dates:** 20 March 2026 - 10 May 2026 **Curated by:** Markus Åström **Photography:** Ahmed Alalousi **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Sinne ## **Sinne Presents Maija Fox: Hard Shoulders in Helsinki** Infrastructure is not neutral. The road, the bridge, the optimised route, these are arguments made permanent in materials, carrying within them a culture's commitments: speed, growth, the assumption that forward is the only direction worth tracking. What tends not to appear in that argument is what the forward motion passes over, the marsh, the margin, the pause. ****Maija Fox**** , Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne The breakdown lane carries an admission within it. Built for emergency, for the moment the system cannot continue, its presence acknowledges that failure was always part of the plan. That space beside the road, intended for stopping, not for being, holds something the design did not mean to include. > _"The surface that accelerates and the water beneath it are not opposites. They are the same system, measured at different speeds."_ Sinne, Helsinki's institution for contemporary sculpture and installation, is a space that makes room for work rather than merely displaying it. Maija Fox's exhibition _Hard Shoulders_ fills it with a single large-scale installation, _through and through_ , built from cast brass, cast aluminium, forged steel, and stainless steel fixtures. The material weight is real. So, unexpectedly, is the fineness of certain elements within it. Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, detail, cast aluminium, steel, and woven metal wire elements. Courtesy Sinne. Photo by Emese Veszely.****Maija Fox**** , Hard Shoulders, 2026, detail, cast aluminium and woven metal wire. Courtesy Sinne. Photo by Emese Veszely****Maija Fox**** , Hard Shoulders, 2026, detail, cast aluminium, steel, and woven metal wire. Courtesy Sinne. Photo by Emese Veszely. Fox drew from a specific source: Finland's Highway 4, and more precisely a motorway bridge where the road crosses a marsh. The installation does not represent that bridge so much as hold the condition it produces, two systems moving at different speeds, co-present but not reconciled. Wetland plants appear throughout: ranunculus, rosehip, mullein, white water-crowfoot, cast in aluminium, their forms preserved in the material of the road itself. The aluminium takes the shape of the plant with precision. That exactness seems significant, it does not aestheticise the marsh flora but converts its logic, holds it within infrastructure's own material vocabulary. Something survives the casting but changes entirely in the process. A different register enters through metal wire, knitted and woven upward through the work like climbing plants forcing through hard surface, eventually becoming part of a painted road centre line. Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne.Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and SinneMaija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne.Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. In the pockets of the knitting: worn, empty key chains, objects that once opened gates and started machines, now carrying only absence. Fox identifies this textile dimension as a break from the monumental, and it functions as exactly that: a shift in scale that does not abandon the colossal but refuses to be absorbed by it. There is something specific about this moment for a work that makes visible the space beside the system. Conversations about pace, exhaustion, and the unmanageability of accelerating conditions have not resolved, they have become structural. Fox does not make an argument about this directly. She builds a form in which two speeds, the road's forward motion and the marsh's thick, patient time, remain simultaneously present, and the viewer finds a position between them rather than a conclusion about them. ****Maija Fox,**** Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. The empty key chains in the wire are not melancholy objects. They are a record: of things that started, ran, and stopped. Instagram Sinne Gallery Maija Fox on Instagram * * * ## Curatorial Note by Markus Åström In her _Hard Shoulders_ exhibition, Maija Fox addresses the relationship between our culture, labour, and the individual. Her large sculptural installation is mainly constructed out of aluminium and steel and is an interaction with the gallery space and its architectural elements. Fox has been inspired by Finland’s Highway 4 and, more precisely, by a specific motorway bridge that stands in a marsh. _Hard Shoulders_ refers to the motorway verges or breakdown lanes intended for stopping in an emergency. Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. With this title, Fox brings up an existing emergency situation in our society, where the pace and pressure of advances in our surroundings create an ever-growing sense of unease and hopelessness on a personal, but also on a collective, level. She opens out our narrow field of vision to reveal an emptiness that moves in parallel with us on the margins. With her large-scale, technically challenging installation, she urges us to find an entry point to a sideways movement into a sense of security and enveloping calm. Fox’s emphatically material-based art occupies the zone where humans and nature meet. In her art we can see traces of agriculture and heavy industry, both of which are directly rooted in Fox’s own upbringing in the countryside. She incorporates different elements from this setting, including tools, machinery, and structures with which human beings at work interact and influence their environment. Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne.Maija Fox, Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. Metals are a key, recurring material that Fox reworks using various techniques. She has developed her own poetic form language, in which she makes open-minded, creative use of the techniques and methods of the artisan, engineer, and artist. She combines various familiar mechanisms and structures, producing something that is evidently intended to elicit new functions and even to attain dreamlike states. The bridge is something of a symbol of the engineer’s art — it combines civic construction with good infrastructure planning that not only sustains but also lays the foundation for continued growth. A bridge reduces distances and eases our movement across difficult terrain and “inhospitable” landscapes. In _Hard Shoulders_ , Fox brings together two worlds and rhythms: above, the human being’s energy-craving, accelerating forward motion; below, the stillness of the swamp, where time thickens and the restless pace overhead begins to recede. We can see here our own drive to optimise, to streamline, and our ability to reshape the landscape and to exploit the resources contained in it. Maija Fox Hard Shoulders installation view aligned along central axis showing metal columns, suspended woven wire, and steel cylinder element in gallery ****Maija Fox,**** Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. ****Maija Fox**** , Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. Fox’s installation still seems to point to a coincidence — that _Hard Shoulders_ simultaneously carries a silence. Traffic on the asphalt road, the machines on the construction site, and the machinery in the factories have come to a standstill for a moment. She tentatively steers our gaze to one side, toward the ranunculus flowers and other wetland plants cast in aluminium. She awakens our senses to see the marsh that surrounds the entire construction. Rosehip bushes stand bleached by exhaust fumes, while velvety mullein presses upward between the margins of the road. Like the coming and going of memories, fragments of tear plate and orange peel appear between the road and the swamp. The flower of a white water-crowfoot rests on the water, while the rest of the plant reaches down and clings to a world beneath the surface. This fragile biotope and its slow processes become a manifestation of an existence outside the system. ****Maija Fox**** , Hard Shoulders, 2026, Sinne, Helsinki. Photo by Emese Veszely. Courtesy the artist and Sinne. Like thickets and climbing plants, the interknitted metal wire grows upward and, like a sturdy weed, penetrates the hard surface of the asphalt, becoming part of the road’s painted centre line. In the pockets of the knitting lie worn, empty key chains — memories of previous entries and of keys that once opened doors and gates, and which once started machines. This textile dimension of the work is a break and a shift away from the monumental and robust that is forever seen as development and progress. These small intertwined fibres embody a different way of thinking based on responsiveness, care, and warmth. The colossal construction becomes a lesson, a basis and fuel for something small to slowly and patiently grow into something that, we hope, will give us a sense of community, hope, and courage. Markus Åström on Instagram **About Catapult** This is a Exhibiton Submission published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Related Readings Artist in Focus ## Yorgos Agrotes: Instability as Method Read More Exhibition ## Michael Beutler at Z33 - Curated by Tim Roerig Read More Artist Spotlight ## Nadine Karl: Installations Where Time, Memory, and Space Fall Out of Sync Read More

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Galerie Kandlhofer presents So Young Park's Gestated Leak in Vienna. 3D-printed HWA entities suspended between digital fabrication and organic form. April 10–May 15, 2026.

Gestation Does Not End in Birth

**Gestated Leak - Galerie Kandlhofer** **Artist:** So Young Park **Exhibition:** Gestated Leak **Venue:** Galerie Kandlhofer **City:** Vienna, Austria **Dates:** April 10, 2026 - May 15, 2026 **Address:** Brucknerstrasse 4, 1040 Vienna **Opening Hours:** Tue-Fri 11am-6pm, Sat 11am-4pm **Photography:** Manuel Carreon Lopez **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Galerie Kandlhofer **Contact:** mh@kandlhofer.com ## So Young Park at Galerie Kandlhofer with _Gestated Leak_ There is a state that precedes form, not the raw material before it is shaped, but the shaped thing before it decides what it is. Some practices make this interval their subject. The harder move is to make it the structure of the work itself. What the in-between holds is not potential. It holds suspension, a gestation that accumulates rather than resolves, a warmth that does not lead toward the living or forward to the dead. > Park calls it Warm Death not a condition to be resolved but a working method: integrating death into daily life with attentiveness, holding the threshold open rather than crossing it. Galerie Kandlhofer's space at Brucknerstrasse 4 is compact and almost entirely white, which means that what **So Young Park** has placed here becomes legible against it with unusual clarity. The entities she calls HWA, named after the Chinese character 花, combining roots meaning plant and transformation, occupy the room without filling it. Metal wire structures rise from the floor and hang suspended in the air, thin as drawings traced in three dimensions, carrying nodal forms of 3D-printed material. Nothing in the room reads as static. Everything seems to be mid-way through something. ****So Young Park**** , __Bloom of a Vanishing Dream (虛夢之花)__ , 2025, oxidized metal sculpture, installation view, Galerie Kandlhofer, Vienna. Photo by Manuel Carreon Lopez. Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Kandlhofer.****So Young Park**** , __Bloom of a Vanishing Dream (虛夢之花)__ , 2025, oxidized metal sculpture, vertical branch form, Galerie Kandlhofer, Vienna. Photo by Manuel Carreon Lopez. Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Kandlhofer. _Gestated Leak_ (2026), the title work, is a wire sculpture that rises from the gallery floor and curves upward in a form between plant and unfinished sentence. At joints where the metal thickens, mesh-latticed and smooth grey forms attach, somewhere between seed, membrane, and exposed joint. Fine threads descend from each of these nodes to small pearl-like drops held just at the point of release. The work seems to register multiple states at once: rooted and suspended, structural and fragile, ending and ongoing. _Dripping Drop Dripping_ (2026), mounted against the white wall, carries a different register. Three 3D-printed forms in pale pink, each a burst of radiating spines, scaled to the kind of detail that rewards sustained attention, connect via a thin threaded line. Midway through the chain, a dried organic form interrupts: a spent flower, a seed pod, something that held possibility and now holds only its own husk. At the bottom, a smaller formation attempts to begin again. The work reads as a sequence that runs top to bottom, bloom, desiccation, a new formation trying to form. ****So Young Park**** , __Gestated Leak__ , 2026, wire sculpture with 3D printed elements and suspended droplets, Galerie Kandlhofer, Vienna. Photo by Manuel Carreon Lopez. Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Kandlhofer. ****So Young Park**** , __Gestated Leak__ , 2026, wire sculpture with mesh and suspended droplet elements, Galerie Kandlhofer, Vienna. Photo by Manuel Carreon Lopez. Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Kandlhofer _Bloom of a Vanishing Dream (虛夢之花)_ (2025) presses the logic further. A near-black oxidized metal stem rises from the floor, a flowering branch, roughly life-scale, but the blossoms don't remain on the stem. They have spread flat, horizontally, across the gallery floor as botanical shadows: the silhouettes of what would have been the crown of the plant, now lying in the ground plane. The stem reaches; the flowers lie. What distinguishes _Gestated Leak_ from decorative approaches to biomorphic or botanical form is that incompleteness functions here as structural condition rather than aesthetic quality. The opening night performance made this explicit: Park translated the repetitive mechanical logic of the 3D printer, the process that generated the HWA's physical forms, into vocal and bodily rhythms, while sand fell alongside her and the entities across time. What the machine does iteratively, the body does cyclically. The HWA bloom and wither on their metal structures, gradually revealing what was skeletal from the beginning. Park has recently been awarded the Birgit Jürgenssen Award 2026, a recognition that places her work within an ongoing conversation about embodied female practice in Vienna, a context that _Gestated Leak_ neither leans on nor sidesteps. ****So Young Park**** , __Gestated Leak__ , 2026, installation view, Galerie Kandlhofer, Vienna. Suspended 3D printed forms with wire extensions and organic elements. Photo by Manuel Carreon Lopez. Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Kandlhofer.****So Young Park**** , __Gestated Leak__ , 2026, installation view detail, Galerie Kandlhofer, Vienna. Suspended forms in sequence with delicate wire structures and organic fragments. Photo by Manuel Carreon Lopez. Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Kandlhofer. The HWA suspended at Galerie Kandlhofer carry no resolution, the pearl drops held at the ends of their threads don't fall, don't dry, don't become anything else, and this refusal to conclude is not ambiguity but argument: that the in-between has its own kind of permanence, and that Warm Death is not a metaphor for something else but the most precise description available for how these forms actually exist. Instagram Galerie Kandlhofer Instagram So Young Park * * * ## **Related Readings** Featured ## P.Kim Kimtaegi: Between Mask and Body Read More Exhibition ## Carlo Zappella: The Seamless Switch at Stadtgalerie Raumimpuls Read More Interview ## Hugo Brazão: Sculpting Escapism in a World of Fabric, Fiction, and Form Read More

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Shirley Fu on hybrid forms, found tyres, silicone flesh, and the tension between control and chance, in conversation with Di Franco for Catapult

Soft Machinery: A Poetry of Distorted Paths

**Shirley Fu** **Based in:** London, UK **Born:** China **Medium:** Sculpture, found objects, silicone casting, metal fabrication, 3D printing **Recent Works:** Neighbours and Lovers, 2026 Occupied seat, 2026 A promise set at a tilt, 2025 **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the Artist **Photography:** Runqi Wen, Zhongting Sun ## **In Dialogue: Shirley Fu × Di Franco** One of the most compelling aspects of Shirley Fu art practice is the way she engages with materials — not simply as tools, but almost as collaborators. She often works with unexpected combinations: industrial and everyday materials appear alongside more organic or fragile elements, creating visual and physical tensions within the work. ****Shirley Fu**** , Portrait in studio, London, with tyre and metal sculpture elements, Courtesy of the artist, Photo by Zhongting Sun There is a strong focus on sensory qualities, texture, weight, balance, resistance and how these properties shape both the process and the final outcome. Many of her pieces seem to exist in an in-between state, as if still in the process of becoming, which gives them a sense of vitality and instability. Manual processes play a central role: cutting, shaping, assembling, and reassembling. This studio-based approach often remains visible in the finished work, rather than being concealed, reinforcing the idea that the work is not only about a final form, but about construction, trial, and discovery. Ultimately, Shirley’s work exists in a tension between control and chance — between intention and emergence — resulting in pieces that are both materially grounded and conceptually open. ## **Interview** - **Shirley Fu × Di Franco** ### 1. **How do you define the conceptual core of your artistic practice?** I would say exploring the boundaries between human and non-human life, using hybrid forms to question ideas of identity, belonging and transformation. I’m interested in translating layered meaning into visual form, creating spaces or objects that feel ambiguous and open-ended. I would hope the viewer to enter a world that is unfamiliar but still echoes something real, something emotional or political beneath the surface. ****Shirley Fu**** , __Neighbours and Lovers__ , 2026, found tyres and 3D printed resin legs, 70 x 125 x 65 cm, 60 x 110 x 55 cm, Courtesy of the artist, Photo by Zhongting Sun ### **2. In what ways does your personal trajectory influence your work?** Moving to the UK alone when I was 13, I felt a lot of alienation and confusion. I remember feeling like I had two identities, one in China and one in the UK. During my teenage years, I couldn’t decide who I was or who I wanted to become, but now I think I have a better idea. I think all those journeys have translated into my work, and, in the same way, exploring my practice has influenced how I see myself. ### **3. What interests you more: the process or the final result?** Both, I really enjoy the manual making and the sparks during the process; there’s something so fulfilling about just making and seeing it develop into something more refined. The uncertainty during the process I find very beautiful, as it gives me a number of possibilities**.** ****Shirley Fu**** , __Dog__ , 2024, plaster, clay, plaster clay, silicone, plastic toy eyes and nose, paper, cement powder, acrylic, 150 x 165 x 110 cm, Courtesy of the artist, Photo by Zhongting Sun ### **4. How do you choose the materials you use in your work?** It can be spontaneous, I pick up tyres from the local trash centre near my university, or I find cicada shells on the ground when I’m outdoors climbing. At the time, I wasn’t thinking much; it just felt like these materials or objects were calling at me. And there are materials I intentionally choose for their material language, such as silicone with a strong sense of flesh or metal with a cold, industrial tone**.** ****Shirley Fu**** , __Blood on Track 2__ , 2024, mixed medium, found tyres, clay, silicone, plaster clay, air dry clay, expanding foam, cement, acrylic, watercolour, cement powder, 120 x 60 x 50 cm, Courtesy of the artist, Photo by Zhongting Sun ### 5. **What role does experimentation play in your artistic practice?** A huge part of my work starts with just experimenting with materials or an idea I have. I would spend time exploring the possible outcomes of a specific material and try to perfect my technical ability. For example, silicone casting requires control and precision for the mould to come out fine. The work I want to make in metal requires calculations of weight and precise measurements. I would make CAD models to estimate and plan. Sometimes the plan can change multiple times, or back and forth, until I’m happy with it. ****Shirley Fu**** , __Blood on Track 1__ , 2024, mixed medium, found tyres, clay, silicone, plaster clay, air dry clay, expanding foam, cement, acrylic, watercolour, cement powder, 110 x 65 x 50 cm, Courtesy of the artist, Photo by Zhongting Sun ### **6. Is error something you seek or avoid in your process?** Yes and no, I don’t think errors really exist until it comes to technical issues, such as having a wrong calculation in metal or I miscalculate the mixture in my silicone mould. But when it happens, the offcuts of metal or silicone become inspirations in my work; the shapes of the offcuts remind me of a country's map, which later contributes to my practice and leads me into further developments through those “errors”. ### 7. **How does a new work usually emerge: idea, material, or intuition?** Honestly, all three, but I personally find myself really liking following my intuition. I can make a plan for a new work back and forth multiple times, either by doing more research or by picking which materials, and it still just doesn’t feel right. At the end, there’s just this spark or intuition that spoke to me and made me finalise my decisions. But that could also just be all the considerations and planning disguised as intuition, all the information I’ve absorbed that lies behind my subconscious and led me to continue. I think it’s just a constant dialogue among all three; none of them can be left out to continue. ****Shirley Fu**** , studio process, metal grinding, London, Courtesy of the artist, Photo by Zhongting Sun ### **8. What themes consistently run through your work?** Having works on the ground, I still haven’t fully understood why. But I’ve found a pattern: I really like making works and placing them on the floor. I’ve had many incidents where I show a work, and people accidentally step on it. I made an egg that went next to my tyres, and it got fully crushed the first night of the exhibition. I found it funny, and there’s something so free about it. And I’ve also made work that the intention was to let people step on it, my huge silicone bug that makes humans scream when people stomp on it. ****Shirley Fu**** - A promise set at a tilt 2025 Steel, wood, pewter 250 x 184 x 37cm - Image Courtesy of the artist ### **9. How would you describe the relationship between drawing, object, and space in your work?** I would say that drawing isn’t a big part of my work right now; I’m more focused on how objects and spaces can convey an experience for the viewer or a specific atmosphere I’m trying to create. Space is important in my work. As someone who mainly makes 3D works, I have a constant dialogue about how my work would exist in a certain space. The work can be either a response to a specific site or about how the space would affect the work. The space would sometimes even redirect what I would make**.** ****Shirley Fu**** - Cicada shells, silicone, sound buttons Each cicada size: 5 x 3 cm 12 cicada with 12 different recorded sounds, when its pressed it emits piercing sound including different animal or human screaming. Image Courtesy of the artist ### 10. **Is your practice more intuitive or conceptual?** I think it's intuitive at first, and then it becomes more conceptual. ### ** 11. What is your working rhythm in the studio?** I would usually go into my studio with a goal for what I wanted to do today, either going into the workshops or continuing what I was already making in my studio. Or sometimes I just focus a day on reading, research, writing, or planning, which can turn into days or even months. But usually, before I start any projects, I take some time to plan before even making. ****Shirley Fu**** (Detail) Cicada shells, silicone, sound buttons Each cicada size: 5 x 3 cm - Image Courtesy of the artist ### 12. **Which artists or references influence your practice?** I’m very influenced by speculative fiction, particularly books like Blood Child by Octavia E. Butler, as well as films such as District 9, The Fly, and Princess Mononoke, and manga like BLAME!. These works have deeply shaped how I think about world-building and storytelling in my practice. What draws me to them is not just their aesthetics or narratives, but the way they construct entire worlds that feel both alien and uncomfortably familiar. Growing up, I was fascinated by these kinds of worlds; I would stay up all night reading or watching them almost as a form of escapism. But I’ve come to understand that what felt like escape was also a way of processing reality. ****Shirley Fu**** , __What the current left behind__ , 2025, pewter, steel, wool string, found log, 80 × 15 × 8 cm - Image Courtesy of the artist I find these stories often act as metaphors for complex issues, such as power structures, colonial histories, loss of identity, and the evolving relationship between humans, technology, and nature. These themes resonate strongly with my own concerns and practices in my work; these stories always made me have a strong urge to create my own imaginative world. And also, my hobby rock climbing, it has given me numerous inspirations, either through the shapes of the holds, the outdoor environment, rocks, the physicality of climbing, the journey of a route, the social and psychological element of how an individual perform while climbing, there’s many great metaphors of how the action of climbing can relate to the world, I find ways of connecting them to my practice. ### 13. **How do you see your work evolving in the coming years?** I have many projects and ideas I want to continue; there’s still a lot to learn and figure out as I’m studying at university right now, which offers workshops and facilities that give me a lot of freedom to experiment. After I graduate, I think there will be many changes, but hopefully I will figure it out. I still want to make more weird creatures. ****Shirley Fu**** , __Occupied seat__ , 2026, pewter, steel, wooden chair, 77 × 45 × 42 cm - Image Courtesy of the artist ### **14. What has been the greatest challenge in your artistic journey so far?** I think believing in yourself and your work is what the world wants to see, but I don’t really care anymore. As long as you don't stop, there will be people who enjoy your work. Hopefully … (Thank you David) Also trying to control what the viewer thinks; at the end of the day, it isn’t something one can fully control. I should take it easy on it. ( One time, my huge silicone bug got asked if I’m into harming animals, and S&M, that really took me in a spiral.) ****Shirley Fu**** , __Cicada Creature__ , 2024, silicone, sound buttons, oil paint, 40 × 13 × 10 cm. Image Courtesy of the artist ### 15. **What do you aim to convey or provoke in the viewer?** I would like to test the boundary between what’s comfortable and uncomfortable. I think like insects, for example, a lot of times the species itself isn’t disgusting, but we associate them with diseases or poisonous, insects have existed before humans, more than 480 million years ago. Because of urbanisation, we have reduced opportunities to experience nature, leading to a loss of the ability to identify insects. People with low insect knowledge are more likely to dislike insects, as indoor insects trigger a stronger sense of disgust than outdoor insects. I think about this a lot. When I’m back in China, there are a lot of cicadas during the summer. When I’m in the city, the sound the cicadas make is unbearable. I would close my windows, but once I’m in the mountains, climbing, the sound becomes pleasant. Instagram Shirley Fu DiFranco on Instagram **About Catapult** This is an artist interview by DiFranco published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Related Readings Featured ## Can Threads Hold History Without Becoming Narrative? Avraam Hirodontis in Focus Read More Exhibition ## Ibrahim Mahama at Kunsthalle Wien: When History Becomes Material Read More Interview ## Mark Van Wagner Paints with Sand and Lets Time Do the Rest Read More

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Karim Boumjimar at Møstings Frederiksberg. Wall paintings, ceramics, and silver casts map the body inside nature's cycles. Through June 7, 2026.

The Organism Was Never the Exception

**BODIES UNDER CONSTRUCTION - MØSTINGS, THE FREDERIKSBERG MUSEUMS** **Artist:** Karim Boumjimar **Exhibition:** Bodies Under Construction **Venue:** Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums **City:** Frederiksberg, Denmark **Dates:** March 28, 2026 - June 7, 2026 **Address:** Andebakkesti 5, 2000 Frederiksberg, Denmark **Photography:** Mikkel Kaldal **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums **Contact:** moestings@frederiksbergmuseerne.dk ## **Møstings Presents Karim Boumjimar's Bodies Under Construction in Frederiksberg** The boundary between the body and what surrounds it has always been assumed rather than demonstrated. For a long time, and across many disciplines, the human figure has been treated as the exception: the organism that observes, names, and intervenes, rather than the one being shaped and decomposed alongside everything else. Karim Boumjimar's exhibition at Møstings begins from a different assumption and takes it seriously, not as ecological argument but as physical fact. What the work asks is harder than it first appears: what does a body look like when it has already begun to dissolve at the edges? Boumjimar approaches this not through reduction or austerity but through accumulation, surfaces dense with hybrid figures, every wall and every vessel a site of simultaneous becoming and undoing. > Boumjimar treats the body not as origin point but as transitional state, shaped, worn, and eventually folded back into the processes it was always part of. The works exist as if they were already artifacts of a future we don't yet have language for. Møstings occupies a historic villa in Frederiksberg, late nineteenth-century rooms with painted ceilings, ornate plasterwork, tall windows overlooking bare winter trees. The architecture isn't neutral. Its domestic formality carries the assumption of the house as sealed space, civilization kept apart from what grows and rots outside. Boumjimar has covered the walls of each room with large-scale drawings painted directly onto colored surfaces: sage green in one room, warm amber in another, a muted dusty rose in a third. The building doesn't disappear, it becomes part of the argument. ****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Wall painting with hybrid figures and ceramic vessel on white metal scaffolding with fluorescent light. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums.****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Amber wall paintings surrounding ceramic works on white metal display structures with fluorescent lighting. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums. The wall paintings run from floor to wainscoting across every room, fluid black lines tracing hybrid figures that refuse to resolve into a single species. Torsos become fish tails, human heads sit on animal bodies, plants merge with limbs, figures seem to dissolve at one edge and reform at another. The vocabulary draws on ancient forms, votive relief, cave wall, early devotional marks, but the images don't feel archival. They feel imminent, as if the walls are still in the process of dreaming them into existence. The ceramics occupy these rooms on scaffolding structures of white metal, each fitted with a horizontal fluorescent tube. Works such as _Life Still Goes On_ (2026), _Deep Leopard_ (2025), and _Oracle_ (2025) carry the same drawn figures as the walls, but compressed onto curved surfaces: what stretches across an entire room here wraps around a vessel in dense, rotating form. The scaffolding removes any pretense of the finished object. Under fluorescent light, the pots look mid-examination, specimens caught between assembly and display, not yet declared complete. ****Karim Boumjimar**** , ceramic vessel from __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, exhibited at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Hand-painted ceramic with figurative motifs on white metal scaffolding under fluorescent light. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums. ****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Green room with large-scale wall drawings and ceramic vessels on white metal scaffolding beneath chandelier lighting. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums ****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Wall drawing and mounted work under fluorescent light within green room installation. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums. ****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Ceramic vessel in foreground with layered room perspective and wall drawings extending through architectural thresholds. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums.****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Wide view of green room with wall drawings, ceramic vessels on white metal structures, and natural light from windows. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums. Separate from the main installation, in a pale blue room, a clay quadruped stands alone on a white pedestal before a tall window. _Zaatar_ (2025), rough and unglazed, terra cotta red against the grey light, seems to belong to a different timeline than the decorated vessels nearby, rawer, less resolved, more anatomically present. Its title names a Mediterranean herb mixture: botanical, edible, culturally loaded. A body that carries another ecology entirely. In the coral-toned room, a display case holds _Silverware #1–13_ (2026), silver casts of bodily fluids, arranged alongside paper and photographs. The material choice is precise: what the body produces in its least controlled, most private moments, here preserved in the most formally precious substance available. The display case frames them as museum objects, as heritage, as things worth keeping. The logic of the whole exhibition compresses into one case, the body's outputs as artifact, as evidence, as something that will outlast the body that made them. The timing of this work matters without being obvious. Conversations about ecological grief, posthuman bodies, and what it means to be a species among species have moved from academic to mainstream over the last decade. But art that actually changes how a body feels when it stands in a room, that makes the porous boundary between self and environment felt rather than argued, remains rare. ****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Coral-toned room with wall drawings and central display case presenting works on paper. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums.****Karim Boumjimar**** , __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, installation view at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Coral room with wall drawings framing architectural view into adjoining space with clay sculpture. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums.****Karim Boumjimar**** , drawing from __Bodies Under Construction__ , 2026, exhibited at Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums, Frederiksberg. Wall painting with hybrid creature alongside framed work on paper. Photo by Mikkel Kaldal. Courtesy Møstings, The Frederiksberg Museums. Boumjimar is twenty-seven years old and working across painting, ceramics, sculpture, performance, and drawing simultaneously, as if no single medium could contain the claim. What Møstings holds, distributed across its color-saturated rooms, is closer to a total position than a themed exhibition: this is what a body looks like when you stop treating it as the viewer and start treating it as the viewed. The clay animal stands at the window, looking out, no longer clearly the one observing, but another body among others, held in the same system it once seemed to face. * * * Instagram Karim Boumjimar Instagram Møstings Frederiksberg **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Related Readings Featured ## Ailyn Lee and the Alchemy of Memory: Bodies, Objects, Transformation Read More Exhibition ## Beings & Creatures Chapter 4: Beyond the Tangible Read More Interview ## Mira Makai — an exclusive Overview and Interview Read More

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Michael McGregor draws the Parthenon Marbles on London and Athens hotel stationery. His Athens debut, at George Benias Gallery, frames restitution as a formal argument.

Both Hotels Know What Was Taken

**The Parthenon Marbles and Other Looted Objects in the British Museum — George Benias Gallery** **Artist:** Michael McGregor **Exhibition:** The Parthenon Marbles and Other Looted Objects in the British Museum **Venue:** George Benias Gallery **City:** Athens, Greece **Dates:** March 26, 2026 — April 15, 2026 **Address:** Politechneiou 10, Athina 104 33 **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Michael McGregor ## **Michael McGregor Presents _The Parthenon Marbles and Other Looted Objects in the British Museum_ in Athens at George Benias Gallery Athenes** There is a long tradition of using the wrong paper. Documents of ownership, letters of seizure, correspondence conducted on institutional letterhead, the paper a claim is written on has always done some of the work of the claim. Michael McGregor's debut at George Benias Gallery in Athens understands this. The drawings here are made on hotel stationery, from London and from Syntagma Square, and what gets drawn on them is not decoration but evidence. The Parthenon Marbles were removed between 1801 and 1812 by agents of Thomas Bruce, 7th Earl of Elgin, under contested circumstances and with disputed Ottoman permission. They have been held in the British Museum ever since. McGregor's framing is explicit: the museum is, in his words, "the world's largest receiver and displayer of stolen goods." But the work doesn't illustrate that position, it finds a medium that enacts it. > To draw Parthenon figures on London hotel paper and Athens hotel paper is to run the same journey the marbles made, but in reverse, and to insist that the paper already knows where it belongs. The exhibition is installed at the Hotel Grande Bretagne on Syntagma Square, whose gold crest appears embedded directly in the large-scale paintings, floating above draped figures like a watermark that cannot be removed. The hotel faces the Greek parliament, within sight of the Acropolis. That McGregor absorbed this institution's identity into the canvases themselves, letting the crest preside over every scene, makes the venue part of the argument rather than a backdrop to it. ****Michael McGregor**** , 2026, crayon and marker on Claridge’s Brook Street London stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artist Exhibition view, Michael McGregor, George Benias Gallery, Athens, 2026, courtesy of the artist****Michael McGregor**** , 2026, crayon and marker on Hotel Grande Bretagne Athens stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artis The large paintings render classical figures, votaries, horsemen, a centaur trampling a Lapith, grouped Caryatids, in flat, single-color lines against pale, worked grounds. Each figure occupies one hue: a pink draped woman, a blue youth on horseback, a green Kore with flower crown. The rendering is loose and felt rather than archaeologically precise, which is the point. These are images of objects that were elsewhere, recalled from museum visits and imagination, drawn with a quality closer to desire than documentation. _Horse of Selene_ , drawn in blue on Westbury Hotel London letterhead, shows the great severed head, mane, eye socket, flaring nostril, filling the page. Beneath it, in the artist's hand: "HORSE OF SELENE / Origin 447BC–432BC / Stolen by British in 1812." The word "GREECE" is written in red at the top. The London hotel address printed in the letterhead corners completes the composition without comment: the object is drawn on the paper of the city that holds it, addressed to the city that made it. On May Fair Hotel stationery, horsemen from the Parthenon frieze gallop across the page beneath the note "Stolen by British, during Ottoman Occupation of GREECE, Financed by Thomas Bruce, Earl of Elgin." These are not captions. They function as claim documents, handwritten, signed by location. ****Michael McGregor**** , 2026, crayon and marker on Hotel Grande Bretagne Athens stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artist****Michael McGregor**** , 2026, crayon and marker on Hotel Grande Bretagne Athens stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artist****Michael McGregor**** , 2026, crayon and marker on Hotel Grande Bretagne Athens stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artist The Caryatid series, five small drawings of the same standing figure, each in a different color, framed in natural wood and hung in a row, carries the most compressed argument. Five Caryatids remain on the Erechtheion porch. The sixth was removed by Elgin. The row of five holds the space where a sixth might go. Nothing marks the absence directly. It doesn't need to. The debate over the Parthenon Marbles has shifted in recent years from a bilateral diplomatic problem to a broader reckoning with the acquisitive logic built into Western museum collections. McGregor arrives at this moment not as a polemicist but as a painter, his works are intimate, fragile, drawn on paper in crayon and marker, requiring close reading. The stationery is actual stationery, from actual hotels, carrying actual addresses. What gets drawn on it lands differently depending on which city the letterhead belongs to. ****Michael McGregor**** , 2026, crayon and marker on May Fair Hotel London stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artistMichael McGregor, 2026, crayon and marker on Hotel Grande Bretagne Athens stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artist****Michael McGregor**** , 2026, crayon and marker on Hotel Grande Bretagne Athens stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artistMichael McGregor, 2026, crayon and marker on Westbury Hotel London stationery, George Benias Gallery, Athens, courtesy of the artist The _Horse of Selene_ drawing on Westbury Hotel London letterhead holds its ground not as a protest image but as a document of simultaneous location, the head is in London, drawn on London paper, but "GREECE" is written over it in red by the artist's hand, reassigning its address. That the destination and the origin are the same place is the argument the drawing makes visible, fixed on the paper that carries both. George Benias Gallery on Instagram Michael McGregor on Instagram * * *

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Yalda Afsah presents Surge at Kunsthal Thy, Denmark. Two video works examine ritual, collective force, and what proximity does to the body. March-May 2026.

A Ceremony Doesn't Know It's Violence - Yalda Afsah at Kunsthal Thy .

**Surge - Kunsthal Thy** **Artist:** Yalda Afsah **Exhibition:** Surge **Venue:** Kunsthal Thy **City:** South Thy, Denmark **Dates:** March 28, 2026 - May 24, 2026 **Curator:** Rasmus Søndergaard Johannsen **Text:** Marina Rüdiger **Photography:** Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Kunsthal Thy ## **Kunsthal Thy Presents Surge by Yalda Afsah** Rituals hold their own grammar separate from ordinary conduct. What is permitted within the frame of ceremony operates by different rules than what would be permissible outside it, rules the participants carry in their bodies rather than their reasoning. The frame itself is the permission. What film does to ritual is introduce a second camera: one that does not belong to the ceremony, does not share its grammar, and therefore cannot not notice what the participants already know how to not see. Afsah's practice sits precisely at this threshold, not to expose or condemn, but to hold the moment in duration long enough for the viewer to feel what orientation usually spares us from feeling. > Communities contain their own forms of force inside ceremony. Afsah seems less interested in whether that force is justified than in the fact that it has always been present, patient, inherited, and practically invisible. Surge opens at Kunsthal Thy inside a raw timber-framed barn, the exposed beams, earthen floor, and corrugated roof constituting a space that mirrors the material logic of both films without ever announcing the connection. ****Yalda Afsah**** , __Surge__ , 2026- Installation view, ****Kunsthal Thy**** , South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen - Courtesy Kunsthal Thy****Yalda Afsah**** , __Surge__ , 2026- Installation view, ****Kunsthal Thy**** , South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen - Courtesy Kunsthal Thy The venue is itself one of Denmark's oldest farms, Dovergaard, in South Thy. Thy's agricultural history runs beneath this exhibition without needing to be explained. The region's farming population worked with horses as indispensable animals; turnips were reliable food in years of uncertain harvests. Placing Afsah's videos here means the viewer brings context that pre-exists any curatorial framing. The barn does not illustrate the work. It activates it differently than a white cube could. _Curro_ (2023) opens with distance, a vast hillside, wild horses being driven together, an observing audience at the edge of the scene. The scale holds everything safely separated. That distance collapses in stages. The camera finds two men restraining horses in close physical embrace, each holding an animal still long enough for its mane and tail to be trimmed. ****Yalda Afsah**** , __Surge__ , 2026- Installation view, ****Kunsthal Thy**** , South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen - Courtesy Kunsthal Thy ****Yalda Afsah**** , __Surge__ , 2026- Installation view, ****Kunsthal Thy**** , South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen - Courtesy Kunsthal Thy ****Yalda Afsah**** , __Surge__ , 2026- Installation view, ****Kunsthal Thy**** , South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen - Courtesy Kunsthal Thy****Yalda Afsah**** , __Surge__ , 2026- Installation view, ****Kunsthal Thy**** , South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen - Courtesy Kunsthal Thy The horses' distress registers in small adjustments: shifted weight, muscle tension, the particular alertness of an animal that cannot run. What the men are performing is craft and tradition. What the body of the horse makes visible is something the ritual frame asks everyone present not to dwell on. Afsah separated the sound from its original recordings and reattached it in post-production, ambient noise that hovers at the edge of fit, breathing that seems to arrive from just outside the frame, sounds that do not quite confirm what the image shows. The viewer's perceptual system keeps reaching for orientation and keeps not quite finding it. That sustained uncertainty is the film's formal argument. _Jarramplas_ (2025) begins in darkness with detonations that seem festive and threatening in the same moment. Daylight reveals a crowd in the streets of Piornal, Spain, dense, moving with collective intelligence, throwing turnips at a figure whose identity the film withholds. That figure is the Jarramplas, a performer dressed as a cattle thief protected by armor who is symbolically expelled from the town each January. The crowd surges and contracts, loosens and re-densifies. When it stills, every gaze turns toward the same invisible center. The target remains offscreen. Afsah's camera stays on the crowd, the throwing arms, the ducking bodies, the faces carrying the expression of people doing exactly what is expected of them. Opening, __Surge__ , 2026 - Kunsthal Thy, South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen Courtesy Kunsthal ThyOpening, __Surge__ , 2026 - Kunsthal Thy, South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen Courtesy Kunsthal Thy****Yalda Afsah**** , __Surge__ , 2026- Installation view, ****Kunsthal Thy**** , South Thy, Denmark - Photo by Jacob Friis-Holm Nielsen - Courtesy Kunsthal Thy Afsah has described her practice as anthropological, though neither film offers interpretation. The formal decisions, separating sound from image, holding the camera at measured distance, allowing duration to accumulate, produce a kind of perceptual friction. The viewer is placed in the position of someone trying to understand a ceremony from its outward form alone. Whether the ceremony is a horse-trimming in Galicia or an annual expulsion in Extremadura, the structural question seems to be the same: what does a community need to not know about what it is doing, in order to keep doing it? The barn in Thy holds the question without answering it. What the ceremony cannot see is what sustains it. * * * Instagram Yalda Afsah**** Instagram Kunsthal Thy, Denmark * * *

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Kunsthalle Bern presents Lin May Saeed. Sculptures and drawings by the German Iraqi artist who made speciesism a material question. Until May 2026.

Neither Metaphor Nor Pet: A Preview

**Lin May Saeed - Kunsthalle Bern** **Artist:** Lin May Saeed **Exhibition:** Lin May Saeed **Venue:** Kunsthalle Bern **City:** Bern, Switzerland **Dates:** 6 March 2026 - 10 May 2026 **Address:** Helvetiaplatz 1, CH-3005 Bern **Photography:** Andy Keate; Wolfgang Günzel; Andrej Vasilenko **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main **Contact:** press@kunsthallebern.ch ## Kunsthalle Bern Presents Lin May Saeed in Bern There is a persistent assumption in Western visual culture that when an animal appears in a work of art, it is there to say something about us. It carries a symbol, or stands in for a condition, or decorates the margins of a narrative whose center is always human. What happens when that arrangement is simply refused? The refusal, in the work of Lin May Saeed, is formal rather than polemical. It does not announce itself. It happens at the level of material, of composition, of how a figure is placed in relation to another figure, and what that placement implies about standing. > Saeed's animals are neither rescued nor romanticized. They occupy the same moral and spatial ground as the human figures beside them, and that, precisely, is the argument. Kunsthalle Bern presents this posthumous survey at its Helvetiaplatz building, an institution with a sustained commitment to practice that operates at the intersection of formal and political argument. The timing carries weight. Saeed, who died in 2023 shortly before the opening of her solo exhibition _The Snow Falls Slowly in Paradise_ at the Georg Kolbe Museum in Berlin, left a body of work that has since traveled through GAMeC in Bergamo, Sapieha Palace in Vilnius, and Buitenplaats Kasteel Wijlre, each presentation extending the reach of a practice that had been building for nearly two decades. Her works are held in the collections of the Centre Pompidou Paris, the National Museum of Art in Oslo, and the Museum Folkwang in Essen, among others. ****Lin May Saeed,**** __Ameisenbär / Anteater__ , 2018, styrofoam, steel, acrylic paint and charcoal. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main The _Ameisenbär/Anteater_ from 2018 holds a kind of patient authority. Built from Styrofoam, steel, acrylic paint, and charcoal, the animal occupies its wooden platform in a stance that registers neither aggression nor submission. The Styrofoam is not incidental, it is a material that carries no cultural prestige, and yet the form it takes here, this slow armored body with its improbable elongated snout, seems to require real attention before it gives anything back. The work insists on being encountered rather than read. ****Lin May Saeed**** , __St. Jerome and the Lion__ , 2016, installation view, Georg Kolbe Museum, Berlin, 2023. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Chris Sharp Gallery, Los Angeles; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main. Photo: Georg Kolbe Museum, Berlin _St. Jerome and the Lion_ from 2016 reaches into a specific iconographic tradition: the ascetic saint and the great cat, a pairing Western viewers will half-recognize from devotional painting where charity and hierarchy tend to run together. Saeed renders both figures in bent steel, linear, transparent, each contour made from the same lacquered wire. The lion is no smaller and no less present than Jerome; the two share a plane where the usual distinction between subject and beast seems to have been quietly revoked. ****Lin May Saeed**** , __St. Jerome and the Lion__ , 2016, steel, lacquer. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main.****Lin May Saeed**** , __Barque__ , 2021, steel, styrofoam, wood, cotton, acrylic paint, straw, hay, paper. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main. The _Barque_ of 2021 stages a different kind of scene. A camel, a bird, and a robed figure share a crescent-shaped vessel built from steel, Styrofoam, wood, cotton, straw, hay, and paper, an ark that does not rank its passengers. They hold their positions together, subject to the same drift. The work holds a question without resolving it: whether this arrangement was always possible, and what prevented it. ****Lin May Saeed**** , exhibition view, __Untouchability__ , Sapieha Palace, Vilnius, 2025. Photo: Andrej Vasilenko. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Sapieha Palace, Vilnius; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main****Lin May Saeed**** , exhibition view, __Untouchability__ , Sapieha Palace, Vilnius, 2025. Photo: Andrej Vasilenko. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main****Lin May Saeed**** , exhibition view, __Untouchability__ , Sapieha Palace, Vilnius, 2025. Photo: Andrej Vasilenko. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main. Debates around speciesism, the term itself remains contested, have grown considerably louder in the years since these works were made. Saeed's practice predates much of this recent urgency, which is part of what makes it interesting to encounter now. _Ghazal Relief (V2)_ from 2022, a layered panel of Styrofoam, plaster, ceramics, and cotton balls, places a gazelle in a painted landscape alongside scattered human-scale detritus. The animal is not fleeing. It is not domesticated. It is simply there, amid the clutter of a world that has always been shared. ****Lin May Saeed**** , __Ekidu__ , 2007, charcoal and ink on paper. Courtesy of the estate of Lin May Saeed; Jacky Strenz, Frankfurt/Main The earliest work in the presentation, the painted canvas _Ekidu_ from 2007, shows that this was not a late position, it was a consistent formal commitment that ran through nearly everything Saeed made. What the Bern exhibition offers, across its range of materials and years, is the record of someone working steadily on a problem most institutions were not yet prepared to take seriously. Instagram Lin May Saeed Kunsthalle Bern on Instagram * * *

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Jan Baszak works with sculpture, installation, and textile. Based in Berlin. A Catapult Artist in Focus on interspecies intimacy and post-human shelter.

A Shelter Built for Species We Don't Have Names For - Jan Baszak Artist In Focus

**Jan Baszak** **Born:** Szczecin, Poland, 1994 **Based in:** Berlin, Germany **Medium:** Sculpture, Installation, Textile **Education:** University of Fine Arts, Poznań (2017) Academy of Arts, Szczecin (2019) PhD candidate, Academy of Arts, Szczecin **Recent Exhibitions:** _Letztraum_ , ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań, 2025 _Skinned And Spinned_ , WHOISPOLA / Constellation Festival, Warsaw, 2025 _Dead Dogs Don't Die_ , SLUG, Leipzig, 2024 **Represented by:** WHOISPOLA, Warsaw **Website:** janbaszak.pl **Instagram:** @baszakjan **Photography:** Filip Preis **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the Artist ## Jan Baszak - Berlin, Sculpture and Installation The structures Jan Baszak assembles from textile scraps and bent metal carry the proportions of human bodies, and then push just past them. One horse stands on a spindle, its mane falling the way a relic falls, accumulated and irreversible. Another is blackened, carrying a bird on its back, as though the question of which species gets to carry which had already been settled, quietly, without human input. Baszak works at the point where intimacy meets melancholy and stays there, neither resolving the tension nor explaining it. His materials, reclaimed textiles, post-human residues, metal that looks handled rather than forged, arrive at the work already used, already carrying a previous life, already slightly out of place in the category of raw material. The sourcing is a form of argument. > Baszak's sculptures don't occupy space, they propose arrangements. The question is not what they depict but who they were built for. In "Letztraum," his 2025 solo exhibition at ZAMEK Culture Centre in Poznań, Baszak built a freestanding structure from textile scraps and metal that read simultaneously as greenhouse, shelter, and den. ****Jan Baszak**** , Letztraum, 2025, installation view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Textile and metal horse sculpture staged against draped fabric. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist.****Jan Baszak,**** Letztraum, 2025, installation view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Multiple textile and metal structures arranged as interspecies environments within historic architecture. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist ****Jan Baszak**** (right), Letztraum, 2025, detail view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Suspended textile horse figure positioned against marble architecture. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist. -- ****Jan Baszak**** (right), Letztraum, 2025, detail view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Textile and wooden structure with cascading fibres forming a fragmented animal body. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist. ****Jan Baszak,**** Letztraum, 2025, installation view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Textile and wooden structures with cascading fibres forming animal-like bodies in space. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist. The title borrows from German the sense of a last room, and the work held that ambiguity between refuge and terminus without choosing between them. Curated by Jagna Domzalska and Kamil Mizgala, "Letztraum" framed interspecies cohabitation not as a utopian proposal but as a structural problem, and offered architecture, however provisional, as a working answer. The horses that appeared at Vienna Contemporary 2025 through WHOISPOLA worked differently: not enclosed but exposed, their rough-edged surfaces carrying the look of things made under pressure rather than modeled. These are not idealized animals. ****Jan Baszak**** , Letztraum, 2025, installation views at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Textile, fur, and metal structures forming fragmented animal bodies within architectural space. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist. ****Jan Baszak**** , Letztraum, 2025, installation view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Sculptural head with cascading textile elements alongside metal and fibre structures in space. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist.****Jan Baszak**** , Letztraum, 2025, installation view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Sculptural head positioned within a doorway framing the architectural axis of the space. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist. ****Jan Baszak**** , Letztraum, 2025, installation views at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Textile horse-like figure shown across multiple perspectives, emphasizing material surface, posture, and constructed anatomy. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist. They have weight, an indifference to the human gaze, and a quality the work describes as "Halloween egalitarianism", a carnivalesque leveling of hierarchy that doesn't celebrate so much as assume that the leveling was always already underway. Baszak's interest in counterfeit design and copymaking runs through the texture of the work. A tapestry is also a copy of a drawing. A sculptural horse assembled from stitched scraps is a copy of a copy of an animal. The chain of reproduction is the point, not a failure of the original but a deliberate loosening of the idea that originals hold priority. ****Jan Baszak**** , Letztraum, 2025, installation detail at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Cluster of small textile bird sculptures arranged across the floor. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist.****Jan Baszak**** installation view Letztraum horse sculptures in architectural interior ZAMEK Poznan Filip Preis Baszak graduated from the University of Fine Arts in Poznań in 2017 and the Academy of Arts in Szczecin in 2019, where he is currently pursuing a PhD in artistic practice. He worked as an assistant in Artur Malewski's Sculpture Studio from 2020 to 2021. He lives and works in Berlin. His practice has moved across "1.90 m" at CSW Zamek Ujazdowski in Warsaw, which placed his own body at the proportional center of sculptural thinking, and group presentations including "Dead Dogs Don't Die" at SLUG in Leipzig and "Skinned And Spinned" with WHOISPOLA at the Constellation Festival in Warsaw. He is represented by WHOISPOLA. ****Jan Baszak**** , Letztraum, 2025, installation view at ZAMEK Culture Centre, Poznań. Sculptural head with cascading hair mounted on a vertical metal structure. Photo by Filip Preis, courtesy of the artist. What his structures propose, shelter, arrangement, cohabitation, no animal or human has confirmed yet. Instagram Jan Baszak **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Related Readings Featured ## Theresa Rothe: The Surreal Canvas Where Dreams And Materials Collide Read More Featured ## Ophelia Arc: Sculpting the Psychological Knot Read More Featured ## Karina Mendreczky and Katalin Kortmann Járay: The Collaborative Brilliance Exploring the Boundaries of Art Read More

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SIC Helsinki presents Matti Sumari's Worker Ant After Work. Anodized aluminum and found lampposts address precarious labor and identity. Through April 2026.

Matti Sumari at SIC Helsinki with Worker Ant After Work. Text by Sophia Person

**Worker Ant After Work — SIC** **Artist:** Matti Sumari **Exhibition:** Worker Ant After Work **Venue:** SIC **City:** Helsinki, Finland **Dates:** 14 March 2026 — 26 April 2026 **Text:** Sophia Persson **Photography:** SIC **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy SIC ## ## **SIC Presents Matti Sumari: Worker Ant After Work in Helsinki - Text by Sophia Person** What a mess! The ears have crawled out of the gallery. Perhaps they could not bear to listen to the ever-echoing jargon of freelancers, artists, curators, and gallery visitors for one minute more. Inside the gallery, lighting oscillates like days between work and rest. Two lampposts are carrying their straw – fluorescent tubes coated with meagre provisions. Outside, the ears have taken on a new function. They are listening for the outcome of a social experiment; will they be allowed to remain hanging out for a month at the station in the suburb? Worker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, Whose head has the noseyest ears? (2026), anodized aluminium, Photo: SICWorker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, Worker ant after work (2026), 1990s Malmö street lights, anodized aluminium, Photo: SIC Worker Ant After Work, ****Matti Sumari**** , installation view, ****SIC, Helsinki, 2026****. Photo: SIC It is often argued that hunter-gatherer societies enjoyed more leisure than agrarian and later capitalist societies, working no more than two or three days per week. In Swedish folklore, it was important to _h å l l a k vä l l —to “keep the evening”_ —to cease work before nightfall. The day belonged to humans; the night to the supernatural. To overstep this boundary was to disturb a cosmological order in which labor itself had limits. With the introduction of artificial lighting during the Industrial Revolution, work was severed from daylight. As agricultural workers became industrial laborers, the working day stretched to twelve or sixteen hours. Through workers struggles, hours were gradually reduced to the forty-hour week. At some point, some of the agricultural workers who turned into industrial laborers started working independently. Outside permanent employment structures, freelancers have been selling their labor as independent workers for centuries. However, freelancing accelerated in the late twentieth and twenty-first centuries due to new, flexible labor markets and gig economies. Worker Ant After Work (left), Matti Sumari, detail of __Whose head has the noseyest ears?__ (2026), anodized aluminium, SIC, Helsinki. Worker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, __Posh neighbour__ (2026), anodized aluminium, SIC, Helsinki. Photo: SIC ****SIC, Helsinki**** : __Worker Ant After Work__ , ****Matti Sumari**** , Unemployed cabbage head (2026) 1990’s street lights from Photo: SIC Identity has long been bound to occupation; we are defined by what we do. Today, perhaps especially within the contemporary arts field, freelancing might as well be synonymous to being permanently unemployed. We move from workplace to workplace and spend our leisure chasing billable hours. Our identities might as well lay in a fiction of work and the worker; Frankenstein’s monster-like PDF-parchment(d oom-)scrolls of CVs, portfolios,personal letters, application letters, short contracts, project descriptions, declarations ofintent... In the exhibition _Worker Ant After Work_ , we encounter depressed, freelancing and unemployed lampposts, standing with their posture broken, hunchbacked through day and night. A cocktail table resembles solar panels made of cabbage. When sliced open, the cabbage evokes x-ray images of brains. Worker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, installation view, SIC, Helsinki, 2026. Photo: SIC Worker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, installation view, SIC, Helsinki, 2026. Photo: SICWorker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, __Unemployed cabbage head__ (2026), 1990’s street lights from a Malmö suburb, anodized aluminium, SIC, Helsinki. Photo: SIC Scattered throughout the exhibition space lie apple cores and hollowed cabbage heads, as if nonchalantly tossed over the shoulder, an everyday provocation. The bite marks on an apple are brutal and visceral, pulling the most classical and pure symbol into mundane reality. Artist Matti Sumari works in a defunct ketchup factory on the outskirts of Malmö, apost-industrial landscape where materials are sourced from a landfill just below the studio. The materials gathered are most often, in their prior functions, already involuntary social sculptures. Sumari gathers, alters and reinforces their purpose through homemade versions of industrial processes. Worker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, installation view, SIC, Helsinki, 2026. Helsinki Photo + Credits by SIC Worker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, installation view, SIC, Helsinki, 2026. Photo: SIC Worker Ant After Work, Matti Sumari, detail, SIC, Helsinki, 2026. Photo: SIC Found aluminium is cast into sculptures of everyday supplies, placed in an electrified acid bath and boiled in a vat, which have dyed them red and green. Thisresource-conscious refinement process recurs in multiple forms associated with Sumari’spractice: the fermented cucumber, the cabbage shredded into sauerkraut, the pretzel boiled in lye––somewhat dull, everyday symbols that reach beyond the present. As for the ears… they have started moonlighting as freelance lampposts, clocking billable hours while debating the ethics of industrial anodizing with the apple cores. _Sophia Persson_ * * * Instagram of Sic Helsinki Sophia Persson on Instagram Matti Sumari on Instagram **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Related Readings

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Xxijra Hii presents Floryan Varennes in London. PVC orthoses, glass ears, lavender: care becomes architecture, endurance without resolution.

Endurance Is Not the Same Thing as Healing

**Even Spectres Can Tire - Xxijra Hii** **Artist:** Floryan Varennes **Exhibition:** Even Spectres Can Tire **Venue:** Xxijra Hii **City:** London, UK **Dates:** 14 March 2026 - 18 April 2026 **Address:** London, SE8 4AL **Text:** Francesco Pasquini **Photography:** Corey Bartle-Sanderson **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Xxijra Hii and the artist **Contact:** info@xxijrahii.net ## Xxijra Hii Presents Even Spectres Can Tire in London The body held in care is also the body held in place. Something is applied to it, a brace, a protocol, a membrane, and the question is never simply whether it helps but who designed it and for what duration. Care, when it becomes a system, tends to outlast the condition it was built for. This is not a pessimistic position. It is a structural one. The architecture of care, prosthetic, clinical, orthopedic, has its own grammar, and that grammar is worth reading as closely as any text about healing. > The spectre in Varennes' work is not an absence but a structure that refuses to dissolve, a form of care that holds a body in suspension long after the emergency has passed. Xxijra Hii, a gallery space in Deptford, southeast London, carries its own residue: industrial, gritty, a part of the city that has been built over, repurposed, and held in transition for decades. For**** Floryan Varennes' first solo exhibition outside France, this seems like the right kind of friction. The white cube here is not neutral, it is emptied, functional, a space in which clinical objects acquire a different charge. ****Floryan Varennes,**** __Even Spectres Can Tire__ , 2026, installation view with Spike, Pixie, Arch and Millefleurs (lavender), ****Xxijra Hii, London****. Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii****Floryan Varennes**** , __Even Spectres Can Tire__ , 2026, installation view with Pixie and Millefleurs (lavender),****Xxijra Hii, London****. Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii****Floryan Varennes,**** __Millefleurs__ , 2026, dried lavender installation detail, Xxijra Hii, London. Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii Varennes, born in La Rochelle in 1988 and working between Nantes and Paris, has built his visual vocabulary from two systems that rarely share a frame: medieval iconography and contemporary medical technology. Both, when examined closely, are concerned with the same thing, the armored body, the body requiring intervention, the body understood as something that can be corrected, protected, or enhanced. The Pixie sculptures anchor the space. Constructed from sandblasted PVC panels connected with steel brackets, bolts, and medical tubing, they hang from the ceiling at the scale of emptied suits, orthotic devices whose occupant has withdrawn. The logic is corrective: these are forms designed to stabilize, to support, to hold a joint or limb in place. Below each Pixie, stainless steel rods extend toward the floor with a precision that seems structural and carries something else, the suggestion that what stabilizes could equally puncture. ****Floryan Varennes**** , __Spike__ series - (Cendre) (Sève) (Ombre), 2026, glass and stainless steel, Xxijra Hii, London. Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii ****Floryan Varennes,**** __Pixie__ series, 2026, sandblasted PVC, steel and medical tubing,****Xxijra Hii, London.**** Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii ****Floryan Varennes**** , __Even Spectres Can Tire__ , 2026, installation view with suspended Pixie, Spike and Millefleurs (lavender), ****Xxijra Hii, London.**** Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii _Ark_ works differently. Sealed where the Pixies are articulated, it holds the form of a cocoon, protection as enclosure, a membrane that holds a body in suspension without promising what comes after. In PVC and steel, it carries the vocabulary of life support without offering access to what it is supporting. The four _Spike_ works, glass and stainless steel, wall-mounted, ear-shaped, shift the register entirely. They sit quietly on the white wall, small, at approximately hearing height. ****Floryan Varennes,**** __Even Spectres Can Tire__ , 2026, installation view with suspended Ark and Millefleurs (lavender), ****Xxijra Hii, London.**** Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii ****Floryan Varennes**** , Ark, 2026, sandblasted PVC, steel and medical tubing, ****Xxijra Hii, London****. Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii The exhibition text locates these within an economy of violence: the severed ear as wartime trophy, an organ removed from the body and reclassified as evidence or object. Here they are rendered in glass, transparent, fragile, cold to the eye, and placed back on the wall as if waiting to function again. The ear is still present, but estranged from the body it belonged to and from the sense it once held. On the floor throughout the space, scattered in drifts that reach toward the center of each room, lavender, the work _Millefleurs_ , introduces the only register in the exhibition that is warm. The scent is immediate, medicinal in its own historical tradition, and the contrast between the dried organic material and the cold precision of PVC and steel reads as deliberate. The organic world is still here. It is just on the ground. ****Floryan Varennes,****__Spike__ series, 2026, glass and stainless steel, installation view, ****Xxijra Hii, London****. Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii****Floryan Varennes,**** __Spike__ , 2026, glass and stainless steel, detail view, ****Xxijra Hii, London.**** Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii****Floryan Varennes**** , __Spike__ , 2026, glass and stainless steel, detail view, ****Xxijra Hii, London****. Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii****Floryan Varennes,**** __Spike__ , 2026, glass and stainless steel, detail view, ****Xxijra Hii, London.**** Photo: Corey Bartle-Sanderson. Courtesy of the artist and Xxijra Hii Varennes' work has been read through queer theory, transhumanism, and medieval fantasy, and all of these remain relevant frameworks. But the question the exhibition holds most clearly is more immediate. When care infrastructure is being publicly renegotiated, financially, politically, institutionally, a body of work about the architecture of protection arrives with weight it might not have carried a decade ago. Not because it argues a position. Because it holds the paradox open. The title permits the spectre to tire. Derrida's unresolved figure, the thing that haunts without concluding, is here allowed to become exhausted. That small permission changes the stakes. It means the structure was never immortal. It means endurance has a limit, and that limit is still out of frame. Instagram Floryan Varennes Xxijra Hii on Instagram **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## Related Readings Featured ## Constantin Hartenstein: Body And Technology From A Queer Perspective Read More Exhibition ## How Does Grief Mutate When You Stop Trying to Heal It? Read More Featured ## Ju Aichinger: Fragile Power in Clay, Costume and Queer Worlds Read More

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TAXISPALAIS Innsbruck presents Ramesch Daha: Mein Österreich, postcard murals and archive work trace Austria's history. Curated by Nina Tabassomi

The Postcard Arrived. The Silence Came with It - Ramesch Daha at TaxisPalais, Kunsthalle Tirol

**Ramesch Daha: Mein Österreich - TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol** **Artist:** Ramesch Daha **Exhibition:** Mein Österreich **Venue:** TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol **City:** Innsbruck, Austria **Dates:** March 14, 2026 - June 7, 2026 **Opening:** March 13, 2026, 7pm - free admission **Address:** Maria-Theresien-Straße 45, 6020 Innsbruck **Curator:** Nina Tabassomi **Photography:** Vincent Entekhabi, Günter Kresser **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the artist / TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol **Contact:** presse@taxispalais.at ## TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol Presents _Mein Österreich_ in Innsbruck Recognition is not the same as understanding. An image can be entirely familiar and still withhold something, not because it is coded, but because familiarity is itself a condition that discourages looking carefully. When images are manufactured to be recognized and circulated as greetings, the act of looking back at them begins to require a different set of questions. ****Ramesch Daha**** , Tirol 1934, 2026 Acrylic on wall, variable dimensions Exhibition view, ****TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol**** , Innsbruck Courtesy the artist Photo: Vincent Entekhabi ****Ramesch Daha**** , Tirol 1934, 2026 Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi****Ramesch Daha**** , Tirol 1934, 2026 Exhibition view,****TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol**** , Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi National imagery operates on the assumption that the viewer already agrees. Mountains, hikers, snow-covered valleys: these postcards propose an Austria that is scenic, serene, and untroubled, a proposition sent across the Habsburg Empire before anyone asked what it was designed to conceal. The postcard's cheerfulness is not accidental. It is a selection. > _Ramesch Daha copies without interpreting. In that restraint, something surfaces, not meaning, but proximity. The hand traces; the original is not overwritten but held._ **TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol** occupies a former Habsburg post office in Innsbruck, the institution that once moved postcards through the empire now hosts an exhibition that returns to the postcard as material and problem. Curated by Nina Tabassomi, _Mein Österreich_ opens March 14, 2026, and runs through June 7. It is Ramesch Daha's first institutional solo exhibition in Austria, the country where she lives and works. Ramesch Daha, Mein Österreich, 2026 Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi****Ramesch Daha**** , Mein Österreich, 2026 Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi The monumental series _Tirol 1934_ takes over the light-flooded white galleries: large-scale murals applied directly to the walls in electric blue, derived from historical Tyrolean postcards. Daha traces each image line for line, a hiking figure, mountain peaks, a greeting in script, using acrylic in what she describes as "blueprint"-painting. The precision of the copy is exact; what changes is the context it is now held in. Texts added to the murals note the testimony of contemporary witnesses to Austrofascism in Tyrol, from the same decade as the postcards. The blue holds the cheerful source image and its undercurrent without collapsing either into the other. ****Ramesch Daha**** , Paintings of the concentration camps Series #01–03, 2017 Acrylic on canvas****Ramesch Daha**** , Paintings of the concentration camps Series #01–03, 2017 Acrylic on canvas****Ramesch Daha**** , Paintings of the concentration camps Series #01–03, 2017 Acrylic on canvas The inner galleries hold a different atmosphere. _Paintings of the Concentration Camps_ (2017), three large canvases presenting aerial views of camp layouts in acrylic, reads as architectural cartography before it resolves into something more specific: geometries painted in muted greys, coordinates stamped in the lower corner. The same careful hand, the same refusal to dramatize. Nearby, the _Sigmund Klein 1942_ series gathers archival fragments across dark-painted grounds: photographs, identity documents, forms, a portrait. These concern Sigmund Klein, Daha's step-grandfather's father, murdered in a concentration camp in 1942. The materials are reproduced rather than presented as originals; they are held in spatial relationship to each other on a black support, each one redrawn. ****Ramesch Daha**** , Sigmund Klein 1942 Series #01–04, 2019 Mixed media on paper Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi ****Ramesch Daha****(left), Sigmund Klein: Birth Certificate, 2019 Blueprint and acrylic on paper Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi****- Ramesch Daha****(right) Sigmund Klein 1942 #05, 2019 Mixed media on paper, 100 x 70 cm Courtesy the artist Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, 2026 Photo: Vincent Entekhabi - ****Ramesch Daha**** (right), Box of Tools #1 and #2, 2019 Wooden box, tools, glass Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Günter Kresser****Ramesch Daha,**** Tools Series #01–18, 2019 Aquarelle, graphite on paper Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Günter Kresser****Ramesch Daha**** , Paintings from the Archive Series #01–60, 2019 Acrylic on canvas Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi The sixty small acrylic paintings of _Paintings from the Archive_ (2019), arranged in a dense grid on the black interior wall, carry the accumulative logic of this practice to its clearest expression: a field of individually painted archive items, each one re-made, that reads as neither memorial nor catalog. The Video _1933 man sagt nichts_ (HD, 2:56 min) completes the exhibition's timeline, holding the year before Austrofascism was formalized as a fact that could, at the time, still be not spoken of. ****Ramesch Daha,**** 1933 man sagt nichts, 2026 Video installation Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi****Ramesch Daha,**** 1933 man sagt nichts (Video Still), 2026 HD digital video, color, sound Courtesy the artist Austria, in 2026, presents Daha's work to an institution embedded in the history the exhibition addresses. The TAXISPALAIS was a post office; postcards shaped what Austria sent as its self-image; Austrofascism is documented history but not uniformly processed memory. Daha's method, copying rather than interpreting, reproducing without claiming ownership of what she finds in public and private archives, holds these timelines in a single frame. She insists that remembering is a phenomenon that occurs in the now. The viewer is left to decide whether the now is ready for that. ****Ramesch Daha**** , Paintings from the Archive Series #01–60, 2019 Acrylic on canvas Exhibition view, TAXISPALAIS Kunsthalle Tirol, Innsbruck Photo: Vincent Entekhabi What her hand produces is not resolution. It is evidence that the act of copying was necessary in the first place. Instagram of Ramesh Daha Kunsthalle Tirol , Taxis Palais on Instagram**** **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## More related readings Featured ## Łukasz Horbów: Art as Resistance to Nationalism and Alienation Read More Exhibition ## Ibrahim Mahama at Kunsthalle Wien: When History Becomes Material Read More Interview ## How Does Structure Become Emotion in the Work of Chris Cassimatis? Read More

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Luca Vanello at Z33 Hasselt. Objects from therapeutic gardens, animal prosthetics, and humidity-responsive materials. Through April 12, 2026.

Neither Patient Nor Caregiver

## Z33 Presents _Withering into Breath, Wetness Undoes Itself_ in Hasselt _This exhibition review accompanies our conversation with Luca Vanello on matter, attention, and the ethics of making. _Read the interview → **Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself - Z33, Hasselt** **Artist:** Luca Vanello **Exhibition:** Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself **Venue:** Z33 - House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture **City:** Hasselt, Belgium **Dates:** February 12, 2026 - April 12, 2026 **Address:** Zuivelmarkt 33, 3500 Hasselt, Belgium **Curator:** Kevin Gallagher **Photography:** Silvia Cappellari (images 1-4, 10, 11, 13, 15, 17, 21) Luca Vanello (all other images) **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy Z33 and the artist The arrangement of care usually assigns roles. Someone tends; someone is tended to. The capacity travels in one direction, and the architecture of most institutions, hospitals, gardens, galleries, reflects this assumption. What takes longer to see is that materials also participate in this arrangement. Not symbolically. A structure that alters the humidity of a room is not a metaphor for attention; it is attention, rerouted through hardware and water vapor. The question becomes whether the organic and the synthetic can occupy the same side of the relation. > Kinship, as Vanello seems to understand it here, is not biological. It is a matter of shared vulnerability, of existing within a condition that neither party designed and neither can fully resist. Luca Vanello's _Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself_ , **curated by Kevin Gallagher,** occupies **Z33 in Hasselt** , an institution that consistently holds art and design in proximity rather than hierarchy. The exhibition runs through April 12; its closing week is the version currently visible. Those who know Vanello's thinking through the conversation we published with the Brussels-based artist, on attention, matter, and the ethics of making, will recognise the commitments here made physical. ****Luca Vanello**** , dechlorophyll-treated plant structure, installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33.****Luca Vanello**** , organic and synthetic material forms, installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33. Across bright, high-windowed rooms, works spread across the floor on white weather-sheltering panels, climb toward the ceiling along bamboo structures fitted with glass vessels and humidifier hardware, and adhere to walls in forms nearly thin enough to mistake for a painted mark. The plants that open the encounter have been collected from therapeutic gardens and processed by removing their chlorophyll. They retain their structure entirely, branching stems, seed pods, arching habits, but the green is gone. What remains is tan, papery, close to bone in places: the form of a living thing with its primary metabolic process interrupted. One large dark branch arches across a floor panel in a shape that reads less as arrested than as mid-movement, carrying the physical tension of growth, preserved at that moment. From its branches hang clusters of pale, translucent pods. Luca Vanello, organic and marine-derived form with synthetic binding material, installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33.Luca Vanello, assembled organic and prosthetic sculpture, installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33 ****Luca Vanello**** , wall-mounted organic and humidity-responsive elements, installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33. Distributed across the white panels are smaller objects that share the vocabulary of vulnerability without sharing the taxonomy: soft forms derived from marine organisms; humidity-sensitive coatings spread across organic masses; what the material list identifies as spare parts for medical devices and 3D-printed prosthetics for animals. The prostheses are not mounted or presented as artifacts. They rest among the other objects as if mid-transit, made for a specific body, now in proximity to things that were never their intended context. Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself - Z33For his first solo exhibition at Z33, Luca Vanello has created a poetic installation in which delicate forms balance ghostly between life and stillness.Z33 ****Z33**** - Exhibition ****Luca Vanello**** - Curated by ****Kevin Gallagher**** The bamboo-and-glass structure handles the exhibition's environmental argument most directly. Fitted with glass vessels clamped along the cane and connected to humidifier hardware, it releases distilled water vapor into the space. AI-imagined seeds printed in humidity-responsive PVA respond to shifts in moisture; glycol-modified polyethylene strips clinging to the wall curve or relax with the air. Maintenance is listed as an occasional act, part of the work, not an interruption to it. The exhibition continues to co-form with whoever occupies the space, and with the space itself. ****Luca Vanello**** , installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33****Luca Vanello**** , hanging dechlorophyll-treated plant structures, installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33. ****Luca Vanello**** , wall-mounted prosthetic and organic hybrid elements, installation view of __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33. ****Luca Vanello**** , installation view with hanging plant structures and wall-mounted elements, __Withering into breath, wetness undoes itself__ , Z33 – House for Contemporary Art, Design & Architecture, Hasselt, 2026. Photo by Silvia Cappellari. Courtesy of the artist and Z33. The language of vulnerability has circulated widely in recent years across care studies, ecology, and post-humanist philosophy, without always finding a corresponding material practice. Vanello's arrangement at Z33 makes a quiet claim: that the meeting of a de-chlorophylled plant and an animal prosthesis is not metaphorical. Both come from conditions of need. Neither occupies the caretaker position. When the PVA seeds shift in response to the vapor, the room itself is the medium of care, arriving from no single origin. The exhibition's closing days also carry weight. Two months of altered humidity have acted on these forms. What is visible in April is not what opened in February. The objects wait in the air they have helped to shape, and the question of which one is the patient remains open. Instagram of Luca Vanello Instagram Z33 **About Catapult** This is an artist interview published by Catapult — an independent editorial platform for contemporary art, based in Vienna. We publish exhibition reviews, artist features, interviews, and critical context, with a focus on emerging and mid-career practices from Europe and beyond. catapult.art Want to be featured? Submit your work → * * * ## **Related Readings** Featured ## William Darrell: Kinetic Sculptures Inspired by Nature and Evolution Read More Featured ## Joana Bernd — Signs of Softness Read More Interview ## Luca Vanello: Installation & Sculpture — Interview by DiFranco Read More

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Aziya Ikhtymbayeva works in airbrush painting across figuration and still life. Based in Prague. A Catapult Artist in Focus on perception, migration, and the self that holds still.

The Self Does Not Fit the Reflection - Aziya Ikhtymbayeva

**Aziya Ikhtymbayeva** **Born:** Almaty, Kazakhstan **Based in:** Prague, Czech Republic **Medium:** Airbrush, acrylic, oil on linen **Instagram:** @aziya **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the Artist ### ## **Aziya Ikhtymbayeva - Prague, figurative painting** The figures in Aziya's paintings are composed. Composed to the point of removing something — the hand, the brushstroke, the evidence of making. Painted exclusively with airbrush on linen, her canvases hold the quality of an image that has arrived fully formed: smooth, interior, and faintly resistant to resolution. What runs through the work is a displacement the surface alone cannot carry. Her figures: women, mostly, placed in landscape, interior, or symbolic still life, appear contained by the frame, but seem to look somewhere the painting cannot follow. The tension accumulates before it announces itself. > The image knows it is being watched. The figure does not. In _Always Foreign_ , a blue-toned face is reflected upside-down across a mirror-like horizontal divide, the reflection warm, rose-tinted, a different temperature than its source. The self and its double do not match. This is not a failure of the mirror; it seems to be the work's central proposition: that the image one holds of oneself and the image returned by the world are never the same color. ****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Always Foreign__ , acrylic on linen, 180 × 120 cm. Courtesy of the artist****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Water Remembers__ , 2026, acrylic on linen, 140 × 140 cm. Courtesy of the artist.****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Projection__ , 2026, acrylic and oil on linen, 50 × 50 cm. Courtesy of the artist. This doubling repeats. _Water Remembers_ shows a purple-toned figure reaching toward a still surface, touching it with one hand, seeing a teal reflection rise to meet her. The faces lean toward each other without touching. The reflected self is present, close, and chromatically wrong — as if the water remembers a version of the person that the person no longer is, or has not yet become. The airbrush holds these tensions in place formally. Without visible gesture, without the trace of the hand that made the image, Aziya's paintings achieve a controlled remove. The surface seems to give nothing away. This is the technical equivalent of her conceptual argument: the outside cannot confirm what the inside holds. What persists across the works is the sense that the figures know more than they show — and that the paintings know more than the figures do. Among the smaller-format works, _What Watches from Within_ distills this into a single object: an open locket, one oval showing a closed eye, the other an open one. Half of the self is sleeping. Half of it is watching. ****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __What Watches from Within__ , 2025, acrylic and oil on linen, 50 × 50 cm. Courtesy of the artist.****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Monument__ , 2026, oil on linen, 140 × 140 cm. Courtesy of the artist****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Resting Form__ , 2025, oil on linen, 140 × 140 cm. Courtesy of the artist Born in Almaty, Kazakhstan, and shaped by a life crossing Asia, Europe, and the United States, Aziya Ikhtymbayeva draws on orientalism and surrealism as structural references though her relationship to both holds more critical distance than allegiance. She now holds Czech citizenship and works from Prague. Her practice spans figurative painting, landscape, and still life, with women and their relationship to space as the persistent subject. The paintings that step away from the figure entirely, _Monument_ , a solitary standing stone between dark rolling hills under a coral sky — carry the same quality of interiority as the portraits. Even without a body, the landscape holds something it does not name. The question her paintings leave open is not who the figure is, but who decided what she would reflect. Instagram of Aziya Ikhtymbayeva * * * ## **Notable Works** ****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Beyond the Bond__ , acrylic on linen, 140 × 140 cm. Courtesy of the artist.****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Before Becoming__ , 2026, acrylic and oil on linen. Courtesy of the artist.****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Hand of Nature__ , 2026, acrylic and oil on linen, 50 × 50 cm. Courtesy of the artist****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __Illuminated__ , 2026, acrylic on linen, 140 × 140 cm. Courtesy of the artist. ****Aziya Ikhtymbayeva**** , __(left) Better Left Unseen__ , 2026, and __(right) Reflecting__ , 2025, acrylic on linen, each 180 × 120 cm. Courtesy of the artist. * * * ## Related Readings: Featured ## Margarida Fleming: The Art of Silent Tension Read More Featured ## Ricardo Rodriguez Cosme: Blending High-Speed Racing and Western Themes in Figurative Art Read More Featured ## Candy Bassas: Painting the Pulse Between Silence and Sound Read More

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basis e.V. presents Infrascapes, the first comprehensive solo show by Kaya & Blank. Night photography, salt prints, and living algae. Curated by Lukas Picard

What Does the Image Owe to the Oil That Made It?

**Infrascapes - basis e.V.** **Artists:** Kaya & Blank **Exhibition:** Infrascapes **Venue:** basis e.V. **City:** Frankfurt, Germany **Dates:** February 13, 2026 - May 10, 2026 **Address:** Gutleutstrasse 8–12, 60329 Frankfurt, Germany **Curated by:** Lukas Picard **Photography:** Kaya & Blank **Image Courtesy:** Courtesy the artists and basis e.V. **Contact:** presse@basis-frankfurt.de # basis e.V. Presents Infrascapes by Kaya & Blank, Frankfurt The systems that keep industrial societies running tend to disappear from sight precisely because they are everywhere. They become landscape, background noise, infrastructure that reads as nature. Işık Kaya and Thomas Georg Blank work in that gap between what sustains us and what we choose not to see. > Photography was never innocent of the extraction it depicts. Kaya & Blank turn the medium against itself - exposing industrial landscapes on the very materials those landscapes have consumed. basis e.V. in Frankfurt occupies a position in the city that already carries this ambivalence: Gutleutstrasse lies in the Gutleutviertel, a former industrial quarter adjacent to the Main riverfront, close to the port and logistics infrastructure that still defines Frankfurt's western edge. The decision to stage the first comprehensive exhibition of Kaya & Blank here is not incidental, the building itself sits within the logic the artists are examining. **Crude Aesthetics** , installed in the first room, sets the terms. A video work trains its gaze on the oil pumps and refineries embedded in the urban fabric of Los Angeles, a city where petroleum infrastructure appears alongside suburban streets, shopping plazas, and drive-throughs as if it always belonged. Alongside the video, heliograph plates hold images of that same culture: Carvana vending machines, interstate systems, parking lots. ****Kaya & Blank****, __Crude Aesthetics__ , exhibition view,****basis e.V.**** , 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.****Kaya & Blank,**** __Crude Aesthetics__ , exhibition view, ****basis e.V.**** , 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank****Kaya & Blank****, __Crude Aesthetics__ , exhibition view, ****basis e.V****., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank. These photographs were made using bitumen collected from the La Brea Tar Pits, the same naturally occurring petroleum tar that Joseph Nicéphore Niépce used in what is considered the earliest surviving photograph, created around 1826. The technical choice carries an argument: photography, from its first moment, was a material practice entangled with extraction. **Intermodal** occupies three rooms and takes the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach as its subject, the largest port complex in the United States, moving more than 15 million containers each year. ****Kaya & Blank,**** __Infrascapes__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.Kaya & Blank, __Intermodal__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.Kaya & Blank, __Intermodal__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.****Kaya & Blank****, __Intermodal__ , exhibition view, ****basis e.V.**** , 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank. The salt prints here expose scenes of container ships on the horizon, leisure beaches framed by oil rigs, tankers moving through ordinary light. But the paper on which these images were exposed was soaked in seawater drawn directly from those ports. The chemical contamination of the collected water leaves faint residues in each print, the pollution of the image is the pollution of the place. The salt print process, developed in the nineteenth century, opens a historical dimension that runs alongside the contemporary scale: the infrastructure of global sea trade is as old as the photographic medium that now records it. ****Kaya & Blank****, __Bloom__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.****Kaya & Blank****, __Bloom__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.Kaya & Blank, __Bloom__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank **Bloom** shifts register. The work moves inland to Ohio and the Great Lakes region, where monoculture corn production on an industrial scale produces a secondary consequence: excess fertiliser enters surrounding waterways and triggers algal blooms. Kaya & Blank developed a method of exposing photographs using living algae, a process that takes days, during which the images literally grow and require attention. The resulting works hold their own fragility against the retro-futuristic grain bins they depict. The procedure produces images of monoculture from a process that monoculture itself generates as waste. Kaya & Blank, __Stream__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.****Kaya & Blank****, __Stream__ , exhibition view, ****basis e.V****., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank. **Monuments** and **Stream** continue the reckoning, with further documentation of the infrastructural architectures that define the North American landscape at night, towers, pipelines, motorways, rendered in a visual language that holds the distance of observation rather than the intimacy of critique. The nocturnal frame is not atmospheric styling; it is a formal decision that removes the human figure and allows the scale of these systems to read without mediation. ****Kaya & Blank****, __Monuments__ , exhibition view, ****basis e.V.**** , 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank.Kaya & Blank, __Monuments__ , exhibition view, basis e.V., 2026. Courtesy of the artists and basis, Frankfurt. Photo: © Kaya & Blank. Fossil fuel consumption has not declined in line with the rhetoric surrounding it. The persistence of petro-culture, as the exhibition text notes, runs parallel to the accumulation of its traces, microplastics, contaminated waterways, algal blooms, carbon in the atmosphere. Kaya & Blank bring those traces into the image itself, making the photograph not a representation of extraction but a product of it. Whether that reframing changes how we encounter these landscapes, or merely adds another layer of knowing distance to them, the exhibition does not resolve. Instagram Basis e.V, Frankfurt Kaya & Blank on Instagram Lukas Picard on Instagram * * * ## Related Readings Artist in Focus ## Martha Kicsiny: Light, Power, and the Material Weight of the Cloud Read More Exhibition ## Kyriaki Goni with Telling the Bees at The Breeder, Athens Read More Interview ## Mark Van Wagner Paints with Sand and Lets Time Do the Rest Read More

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