2024
Materials: textile, latex, copper, white brass
Photo: Šimona Němečková
The passage of time has the power to fabricate or distort a story that barely happened, or happened completely differently. Under the weight or protective shell of nostalgia, we tend to forget what once affected or troubled us, but we are also capable of creating new burdens that never existed before. Objects—Anna Rusínová's jewelry—are relics from the past, glancing at current trends while gazing into the future, which encompasses all past struggles and defeats, gently opening vents for alternative perspectives. These are hybrids, little oddities, cycling paradoxes that seem to defy time—they seek to resist it with their desire not to fit neatly anywhere. They are rooted in traditional craft techniques, subtly disrupted, yet always executed with meticulous detail, with much time devoted to their creation—perhaps that’s why they so delicately fight against time.
Are we looking at a medieval peasant’s cap? Or does this object remind us of a melancholy playboy bunny? Why are there headphones? In a time woven with post-truth information, it is perhaps more precarious than ever to passionately cling to only one truth. How can we search for and define the truth of the present—if it’s even possible or necessary? Truth has many faces; perhaps they are tools best used and discarded when the time comes... With the advancement of technology, reality transforms much faster—where are the days when we needed a wire to connect our headphones? Does truth also succumb to the relentless passage of time? Perhaps, but just because reality constantly changes doesn’t mean it’s false.
This exhibition is both a personal statement and a general reflection, with the common thread being defiant fragility, aware of its strength but also of its vulnerability. When does something beautiful and fragile become repulsive and grotesque? Where is the boundary between my reality and yours? Where does fragility shatter, and where does resilience take shape? The work is a fragile shell, protective armor, a strange creature, a tracksuit hoodie, a medieval head covering of Joan of Arc contemplating what sad song to listen to in her prison cell. All of these references share one common denominator: refuge. Strength lies in fragility, which is a powerful weapon capable of wounding an opponent, loved ones, but also ourselves. It’s up to us how we choose to use it.
In the tangible fluidity, in the tangle of truthful events and fiction, a Kafkaesque oddity emerges, slowly creeping, quickly running, equipped with headphones of the future and armor of the past. And so, perhaps in the end, we won’t shield ourselves from disappointment in the past, nor from the naive wait for better tomorrows... Maybe that’s not the most important thing right now: In Anna Rusínová's shell, anything can happen; fragility here is a weapon, not very sharp, but it doesn’t give up its fight.
Text: Helena Todorová, Julie Nešvehlová