women replicants (1) — callousness — Dorota Buczkowska ‘Lilith’, ‘Interror’, …
Women Replicants is the cycle of exhibitions at the Small Gallery, which presents the output of some young Polish women artists. The title expression includes a revolutionary potential of generating unknown values, and turning against the system that created them. The opposition to formatting into rational frameworks and stiff, logically justified divisions, as well as the need of strong subjectification of a woman author in cultural strategies become a measure of truthfulness of the recalled stories. The discovering of the sense which is included in details becomes a basis for creation of a new language in which the women artists are not outsiders, but find a place where they can speak about themselves with a shift in relation to the current fallocentric order. Reaching for intimate experiences, they become engrossed in texts, decomposed in toxic secretions of their own net.
‘Women Replicants’ summary book of the cycle of exhibitions This book has been planned as a documentation of an exhibition cycle which was staged at the BWA Contemporary Art Gallery in Katowice in 2010. The works...
women replicants (4) — language as a licking tool — Justyna Gruszczyk and Bianka Rolando In his legendary action How to Explain Pictures to a Dead Hare? Joseph Beuys is whispering something in the ear of a dead hare carried in his arms....
women replicants (3) — minimal corrections — Alicja Karska and Aleksandra Went Works by Aleksandra Went and Alicja Karska seem to be resistant and tightly closed in their simplicity. Just like in the case of dreams about which we...
women replicants (2) — greenhouse conditions — Natalia Bażowska, Kinga Bella, Magdalena Starska, Tatiana Wolska Apart from precise tools, delving into author’s visions requires patience and attention; the reading on the run is losing sense. Ideal work conditions...
Callousness abolishes consciousness, pain and defensive reflexes. As an operation it results from the need of stiffening and protection from too intense experiences. It can be understood as indifference, withdrawal or the lack of sensation. Dorota Buczkowska’s video films weaken nerve connections, slow down movements and leave some barely visible inscriptions on the body, the traces of alienation and inertness in the shape of tingling. They act like tiny bites and pricks, from which unexpectedly large bruises arise.
In one of her video films a dancing pool of blood is emerging from under a small layer of snow, in another one a needle is piercing the skin, leaving a red dot on its surface. The distance caused by the magnification of those everyday and almost imperceptible processes evokes the feeling of numbness and panic. Simplicity of the idea includes a particular sharpness. The needle is piercing the springy surface of the skin, the whiteness of ice turns into meat bubbling substance. Moments of full tension, to which Buczkowska directs her attention, escape easy interpretations. They may look like a jug of poisonous preserves of encouraging ruby colour. While dynamic processes of fermentation and transformation develop inside, from the outside only tiny moving air bubbles can be seen. A danger difficult to be identified hangs in the air.
The video film Lilith is a recording of an intercourse on the edge of delight and rape. The shift between the sound and image evokes discomfort in the viewer. There is no stable perspective. The sight is gliding through fragments of recorded situation. The blurred image is teasing the viewer. No one knows how many persons are taking part in the scene, and how many are only watching it, where do ominous laughs come from, and what are they caused by? The dazed protagonist, whose head remains hidden behind the frame, exposes her inert, pale body, reddish in places, and still warm of sleep. The eyes are closed. The protagonist is inside. She is immersed in feeling. Her quickened breathing seems to be caused by an unnatural effort or movement in which she put all her forces. The lack of exposed face can be a gesture of cutting off from rationality, a turn towards madness, what is tantamount to depriving the protagonist of identity and voice. The impossibility of articulation of a desire is simultaneously its lack.
The word Interror which is used in the title of the work does exist neither in Polish nor in any other language; nevertheless does it seem to be familiar. It’s close not only to the notion of terror, but also the notion of interior which carries a promise of surprising description of a distant territory inside the country. ‘Interror’ is an installation which resembles with its shape a wasps’ nest stuck to the wall. Those dust-paraffin balls are accompanied at the exhibition with the documentation of the preparatory process. Alchemical connotations of the situation recorded by Buczkowska – connected with materials which she uses to prepare her explosive shells, cause the state of unpleasant tension in the viewer. Terrorist action that assumes total destroy is out of keeping with visually sophisticated picture stylised as the ‘Milk Woman’ by Vermeer. In the privacy of her home laboratory the artist leans over moulds, measuring out and joining the ingredients together. The gestures of her hand in the latex glove are economical and peaceful like the moves of a nurse who knows her duty perfectly. Soft lights on the stage and the laborious and concentration requiring process favour idyllic atmosphere. It is however disturbed by the artist who behaves like a saboteur. Her plans seem to be merciless and cruel; they are realised with cold blood like a revenge for the unknown harms and damages. In time which she could devote to useful activity, Buczkowska prepares bombs in secret. However she stops because of unknown reasons in the middle of the road and never lets them explode. Her rebellious actions which are growing out from her destructive needs become suspended. The risk gathers under the skin. It appears that the gesture of producing/laying those brittle dusty eggs in her own home threatens mainly the very author. Her terrorism is directed inside. Appearances remain saved. A nice and gentle lady — everything’s all right.
Curator: Marta Lisok
