Na wskroś

I see ordinary things differently – thoroughly – when I realize what they remind me of. A cardboard folder, an empty pill blister pack, a bright egg carton – their material value is negligible, but the penetrating power with which they affect me is disproportionately sharp, violent, and magical. Meanwhile, I don't register the presence of other objects at all – those that are very close, everyday, utilitarian. I don't see what I do with them, nor what they do to me. Very often, it turns out that it is precisely these objects – whether I want it or not – that construct an image of me, co-creating or even reflecting my identity. The exhibition title refers to a method that – in various contexts – might have been adopted by Trin Alt, Cezary Bodzianowski, and Kuba Stępień. "Na wskroś" means "thoroughly," "completely," "to the core," "from beginning to end." In the context of the exhibition, it refers to a way of perceiving and experiencing both overlooked, incomplete, or destroyed things, and the associations and contexts that have accumulated around them. It defines a perception that recognizes and appreciates the narrative potential contained in ordinary objects. In the work by Cezary Bodzianowski titled "Metro" – a piece characteristic of the artist's work – discoloured, used tea bags are arranged in a row. The dried tea bags are casually crumpled within the openings of a metal frame that takes the form of a train carriage. Below the construction, irregularly spaced strings hang down, suggesting a tape measure. In practice, this work is entirely derived from everyday life. The artist often interferes with its rhythm, extracting poetry from the most prosaic objects. In doing so, he reaches for what is known, yet often too transparent, too banal to be fully noticed. Routine is, contrary to appearances, full of metaphors that leave it open to associations. Although it does not itself take any physical form, it reveals its existence in automatic behaviors or ways of operating, often acquired through repetition. The domestic space and the objects gathered within it are, in Trin Alt's art, a starting point for weaving narratives about the subjective experience of home and routine. Alt creates assemblages from used sheets, pillowcases, duvets, and other fabrics, as well as objects made of cardboard and plaster. Reduced to pictorial form, the objects cultivate a discreet memory of the users of the stained and worn textiles. Simultaneously, like urban landscapes, they make everyday life seem much larger, and thus more impressive, than it might appear at first glance. Frequent, conscious shifts in perspective make daily life a dynamic source of inspiration, intention, and new possibilities. Kuba Stępień lived and worked in her hometown of Bełchatów this summer. The foundations for her works from this period, besides canvases, were sewing materials found in the attic, as well as cork boards. The latter, associated with the early school experience, have no inherent qualities in themselves – it is agency that gives them their unique character. Stępień recorded scenes on them that carry the emotional charge of her surroundings and the universality of motifs from life. She used her own technique of transferring ink onto the surface using glue and saliva. Although some of these works are group portraits, in essence they still constitute a form of self-portrait. The unsettling effect likely stems from an "outsider" perspective. It reflects a position chosen by artists who define their practice through transgression—defying both societal norms and their own ingrained creative patterns. To some extent, it's easy to confuse this concept of perceiving and experiencing something thoroughly with "seeming" or even "believing." However, one can rather "know" right through, rather than "judge."