sobota, 7 listopada 2020

Czuwający / Vigilant beholder

Czuwający to fikcyjny potwór, materializacja współczesnego wyczerpania, wątpliwości oraz lęków, nawiedzających współczesne społeczeństwa neoliberalne. Koncepcja na stworzenie „czuwającego” powstała w wyniku doświadczeń prekarnych, niepokojów o przyszłość , fizycznego i twórczego przemęczenia. Potwór ma kształt krzesła biurowego, przedmiotu z pozycji którego obecnie pracujemy, odpoczywamy, myślimy i przeżywamy. Każdego dnia powtarzamy określone czynności w pozycji siedzącej przed ekranami naszych monitorów, wraz z upływem czasu coraz bardziej „zrastamy” się z krzesłem, mutujemy w nowy organizm gdzie przewodnią rolę w funkcjonowaniu, pełnią zsynchronizowane z ekranem oczy oraz dłonie.

The Vigilant beholder is a fictional monster, a materialization of contemporary exhaustion, doubts and fears that haunt neoliberal societies. The concept of creating the "Vigilant beholder" is the result of my own precarious experiences, anxieties, physical and creative exhaustion. The monster has the shape of an office chair, an object from the position we are currently working, resting, thinking and experiencing. Every day we repeat certain activities, sitting in front of the screens of our monitors and we mutate into a new organism where the leading role is played by eyes and hands synchronized with the screens of our computers.

niedziela, 27 września 2020

Spider feast

The first spiders appeared under my desk when I was spending most of my time sitting in front of the laptop screen. I used to wake up at around 9.30 A.M. My body was weak and tense. Every morning I took a sip of cheap coffee and had a simple breakfast, a radish or cheese sandwich. Then I would sit in front of my laptop, which I still have to pay back in twenty-one instalments. I would pull forward my neck, put my right leg on the chair so that my knee was at chin level, and immersed myself in a blue stream of light emanating from the surface of the monitor. In the evening I would think about various things. Sometimes I came up with a brilliant idea, but I quickly gave up on it, for fear that it would lead me to undefined, negative consequences. After that, I couldn't sleep well.

As time went by, I sat at my desk less and less and spent more time lying on my mattress. Then I realized how many spiders lived in my room. Unlike me, they were very vivid and curious. They covered the whole room with a dense spider web, in which bewildered flies ended their short lives. When I stopped distinguishing the days of the week, the spiders started to play. They would organize some kind of distance jumping competition while chasing flies into the web. First, they would jump on the chair at my desk, and then on my mattress. I didn't have the strength to chase them away. I was even a little jealous of how they could have fun and enjoy their own company. I was so absorbed with watching spiders that I gradually stopped worrying or feeling anything. With each passing day, my tiny roommates became more massive and more energetic. Finally, the spiders had grown to such an extent that the flies that were falling into the web they set became an insufficient source of food for them.

One sunny afternoon, I happened to look out of the window and saw exceptionally attractive clouds. With each passing minute, the clouds would change their shapes. Suddenly, they arranged in such a way that I saw the face of a noble lion. I thought that it could be a sign of the courage and confidence that I should feel when making decisions and fighting for my happiness and satisfaction. After a while, the clouds transformed back into undefined shapes. It was too late for any changes or new ideas. Body and mind had been paralyzed by long-term inactivity. The hungry spiders turned on their favourite song on my laptop, time slowed down and they gave me a sinister smile, showing their dangerous fangs. The feast had begun.






poniedziałek, 17 czerwca 2019

Dripping down - sadness

We enter the space filled with blue light, welcomed by the delayed voice of an artist. We (the spectators) assemble. The story that we’re about to hear originates in a dream about an exhibition and a space in which Rafal plays the key role. In the dream and now - we are in that very space, dreamt by Ola, told by Rafal. Here and now Rafał Żarski takes on the role of a storyteller, slowly unleashing the details around his collaboration with Ola Zielińska. The interpretation of her dream triggered year-long lasting discussions leading to mutual reflections around the different modes of art-working, permanent and continues states of exhaustion leading to often a ghost-like position of young artists- often awaiting to be hosted. At one point Żarski proposes to the audience few breathing exercises, which help them fall asleep, while Zielinska partakes or takes apart that very dream through a series of other nightmarish encounters-recordings.

The space that we are in, is one of the few so-called independent project spaces that exist in Szczecin. Obronców Stalingradu 17 (deriving from the previous name of the street) is an artist-run space - also previously co-curated by Zielińska.

The installation in the space refers to space itself and its maintained in time of five years exhibiting mechanisms.

At the end of the invitation speech, Żarski becomes a ghost and Zielińska continues with the session of listening. She plays a few pieces based on her field recordings from the openings around Europe.

Dripping down - sadness from Rafal Zarski on Vimeo.

poniedziałek, 29 kwietnia 2019

Constant rendering

The project is a visualisation of the future. There is no more life on Earth in the real sense of the word, only perfect urban scenery and machines living their meta-lives. The machines don’t know where their progenitors came from, but they do know what their task is. They fill the world with visualisations of the future, and their day, without beginning or end, is structured only by individual tasks: rendering, printing and application of elements into an imaginary urban landscape.

constan rendering-vimeo from Rafal Zarski on Vimeo.