Ida Karkoszka, „Fashionist”, 2019, photo by Igor Haloszka
review

Embroidered world. A review of an exhibition entitled “Let Them Weave! Contemporary Polish Sewn Sculpture” presented at Studio Cannaregio in Venice

What exactly is the topic of the exhibition “Let Them Weave! Contemporary Polish Sewn Sculpture, prepared by the Centre of Polish Sculpture in Orońsko, and showcased during the Venice Biennial? Contrary to what we might think, it is not easy to answer this question. Of course, in doing so, we could follow the key proposed by the curators who said that the works at the exhibition “include a selection of works by artists who have had ties with the Centre of Polish Sculpture over the past forty years, and by the representatives of the young generation.” It can also be seen as an obvious and apt way to promote Polish art abroad. It is not a fully encyclopaedic or generational event, as it might seem, nor is it a review summarising the activities which have been performed in Orońsko so far. Most of all, it is a story of the attempt to build the world anew and search for a place in it, and about individuality and the need to be together. 

Siostry Rzeki, 2019, photo by Bogdan Kręzel
River Sisters, 2019, photo by Bogdan Kręzel

The exhibition at the Studio Cannaregio is completely different from Cecilia Alemani’s erudite and exceptionally colourful exhibition entitled “Milk of Dream”, and it departs from the bustling and busy exhibitions at National Pavilions in Giardini gardens. Studio Cannaregio is more peaceful, quiet, allowing you to stop for a while and take a breath. After all, it is nice to see the familiar “River Sisters” be Cecylia Malik, “Embroider Yourself” by Monika Drożyńska, Iwona Demko’s “Cuddly Toy”, Małgosia Markiewicz’s “Untitled (Mending Cracks)” or “Unique Outfit” by Magdalena Moskwa. Not to mention the classics, Alina Szapocznikow, Teresa Murak, Maria Pinińska-Bereś and Magdalena Abakanowicz. 

Magdalena Abakanowicz, „Hand”, 1991, photo by Jan Gaworski
Magdalena Abakanowicz, „Hand”, 1991, photo by Jan Gaworski

Weaving, sewing, embroidering …

There are a lot of threads at the exhibition. They are a bit tangled and intertwined, creating new stories, and evoking the ones we know well. Weaving, sewing, embroidering, plaiting, entangling, and making loops – all this becomes a pretext to build a story which is easier to understand as it is being told. It reminds us of situations from the past when women would get together to sew, but in fact they were sharing intimate secrets. Here, this seemingly simple handicraft tool is becoming a pretext to evoke the things which are troubling us at the moment: growing social inequalities, the approaching climate disaster, women’s need to decide about themselves, and the need to think about what’s next. What can we do to survive all this? How not to lose the most important things in this cacophony?  

Ida Karkoszka, „Fashionist”, 2019, photo by Igor Haloszka
Ida Karkoszka, „Fashionist”, 2019, photo by Igor Haloszka

“Krajka” by Mariia Mytrofanova

The work which particularly intrigued me was “Krajka” (Selvage) by Ukrainian artist, Mariia Mytrofanova. It is a subtle and yet at the same time strongly engaged work referring to not only the artist’s personal experience but also to the current situation in Ukraine. At the same time, it demonstrates the importance of family traditions or it is a story about your background which tears off like a thread and it cannot be woven anew. 

Mariia is trying to do something impossible: with the help of her ill grandmother, she collects pieces of stories, and brings back the names of 31 women from the female part of her family from the past. Mytrofanova’s “Krajka” is also a story about rescuing oneself: rescuing those which were here before us and those to whom we still owe something. On a long belt, inspired by traditional Ukrainian selvage, the artist embroidered the names of all her female ancestors her grandmother remembered, using her grandmother’s handwriting. In ancient Slavic beliefs, a belt which was used to tie clothes on had a special meaning. It was often believed that the intentions and signs embroidered on such belts had the power to protect its owner from evil. In this context, Mytrofanova’s “Krajka” is becoming an attempt not only to rescue everything which has been destroyed directly by war, but also to remember the things which get blurred as the time passes. It is an attempt to rescue oneself, so that the past can continue to exist and build up in subsequent generations of women, as well as those from Mariia’s family. “Mariupol Doll” by Lia Dostlieva is also about that a bit. It is wonderfully surreal and a bit grotesque, but it reminds us about how easily the things which seem unreal to us can become part of our world. 

Maria Mytrofanova, Selvedge
Mariia Mytrofanova, “Krajka”

 Let Them Weave! Contemporary Polish Sewn Sculpture” is a reminder that we build the world by telling its story. We can initiate change only when we meet together and do seemingly minor things. Bringing individual threads and trinkets together, we can create a greater whole which has the power to trigger change. 

About The Author

Marta
Kudelska

Independent curator and critic. Interested in curatorial strategies, young art, and relationships between art and horror, and between magic and the romantic tradition. PhD student at the Institute of Culture of the Jagiellonian University, member of the AICA.

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