Something is no yes

Yes, indeed. Something is wrong. There is a lack.
And this gallery narrative, unfolding across three rooms, featuring 16 embroideries in black thread on a white background, one in white on a white background, two video films, and two fabric installations, is precisely about this lack. About the failure to provide adequate care. About the disregard for the norms of liberal democracy. About the exclusion of women from narratives of the past and present. Finally, about the inadequacies of language, where words are always insufficient to describe the contemporary world. This exhibition is also perhaps about everything that ultimately went missing from it. Or perhaps it is the lack itself. Because initially, it was meant to be a story about something else. For example, about Halina and Daniela, the artist’s aunt and grandmother, who cared for her when she was little. Currently, Halina cares for Daniela, offering her a love that is harder to package in cellophane, decidedly less easy to sell, yet the system uses it to save money and fill its own gaps. It is an everyday, sometimes arduous task for many women, a kind of love that must exist because it saves another human being.  So, it would also have been an exhibition about the constant necessity of caring. For others. But also for oneself. For one’s son. Aunt. Grandmother. The flowers in the living room. One’s position in society. One’s rights. The memory of other women. Hence, alongside Halina and Daniela, friends would have appeared: Wałęsa’s, Piłsudski’s, Jesus’. Those who cared for great men, recalled through embroidered lists of names. These names, in turn, would simply accompany words. Reconstructed or arranged in streams, a poetic freestyle. Where Monika Drożyńska would reveal herself like a rapper-embroiderer – MC MD – who dismantles the patriarchal system or states the undemocratic actions of state and local authorities.
All of this will actually appear in the exhibition, but that is not what it will be about. Its fragments, placed side by side, tangled and sewn together, have revealed one fundamental connection. One whole. The lack. Of a mother. Of support. Of memory. Of ethical governance. Of a sense of security.
Because generally, something is wrong with our world. Isn’t it?