Gallery of failure or museum of trying

Skala is pleased to announce Miki Tkacz’s exhibition Gallery of failure or museum of trying. From afar in the darkness, one can see the warm illumination of a narrow, elongated cabinet, resembling an unrolled scroll of paper. The flickering noise of drawings disrupting the uniform beam of light draws one closer. The eye follows its desire to surrender fully to seeing, searching for the proper point that will provide an optimal state of lens focus. The body easily reads the inviting signal sent by the seats and begins its study of the extensive frieze. The encountered elements of space and the relationships between them suggest a situation reminiscent of workstations at a research facility. The gaze jumps between drawings, startled by those that suddenly become visible—appearing with the same unexpectedness as discoveries in an archaeology of the overlooked. Subconsciously guided by the title, "Gallery of failure or museum of trying", the eyes fail in their attempt to encompass the entirety of the frieze at once. The apparent irony of a choice between equally "fatal" options humorously reflects what Rosalind Krauss calls an "imperfect system"—a structure that functions through its own inability. This imperfection creates space for complexity, a refuge from the tyranny of "pure" form. The visual and linguistic poetics of the work opens itself to a multitude of variants and scenarios, stimulating considerations based on "what-iffing." Through this, the potentiality of thought becomes tangible; conventions, laws, and norms can appear differently as we imagine them in alternative ways. It won't be long before the space fills with questions: what impotentialities remain dormant, and what potentialities remain unrealized? The work "W muzeum ze snu usnąłem." surprises with the density and diversity of its 'community' of marks, lines, gestures, and their representations; here, all are warmly welcomed into a "chaos-world" (Édouard Glissant). Drawings once divided by pages now share a single sheet, liberated from their original chronology and placement. Their lines distinctly different from one another—trembling, delicate, swift, or passionate—collide in striking proximities, constituted by the "right to opacity" (Glissant). Each stroke remains clearly visible, possessing its autonomy; together, they form an uncertain, imperfect harmony—suspended as if in a state of weightlessness that defies singular narratives. Friezes, traditionally used to depict processions (funerals, triumphs), today might represent the drama of endless queues at border crossings arising from crisis situations, underground shelter corridors filled with life-threatened people, or hours-long lines for objects that release momentary dopamine surges. Often when seeing this characteristic arrangement, we cannot immediately understand "where it leads." Uncertainty accompanies us for some time, resulting from the inability to grasp the whole, again suggesting the concept of 'imperfection.' Next comes surprise and relief, which transforms into a spiral of questions and pleasantly stinging concern. The dynamics of "W muzeum ze snu usnąłem." fluctuate between these elusive elements, bringing joy through continuously discovered humorous associations and connections within group celebration while simultaneously evoking the nausea of a nightmare. Similar to the seductive dance of Danse Macabre—drawing the obedient eye into a shared choreography perversely leading toward the inevitable—it intertwines playfulness and gloom. It brings the dead to life and mortifies the living, opening the trap of the object and its representation. "W muzeum ze snu usnąłem". reminds us of the proximity and similarity between sleep and death. This unique relationship, through whose prism we can examine the context of museology, recalls the colonial thought behind attempts to "preserve" and "protect" artifacts from the effects of time—artifacts whose acquisition methods often carry the stigma of dark histories. At the exhibition "Gallery of failure or museum of trying", visitors can see Miki Tkacz's work "W muzeum ze snu usnąłem" [In a museum from a dream I fell asleep.]