Czuwający / Vigilant beholder

Czuwający jest późno kapitalistycznym demonem, symbolizującym współczesne wyczerpanie, wątpliwości niepokoje oraz lęki, które nawiedzają współczesne społeczeństwa neoliberalne. Koncepcja na stworzenie „czuwającego” powstała w roku 2019 jako efekt doświadczeń prekarnych, niepokojów o przyszłość , fizycznego i twórczego przemęczenia. Demon jest hybrydą człowieka i krzesła biurowego -  przedmiotu będącym symbolem pracy XXI w z pozycji którego obecnie pracujemy, odpoczywamy, myślimy i przeżywamy. 

Czuwający po raz pierwszy został przedstawiony w rysunku i malarstwie, następnie przyjął materialną postać obiektu, któremu towarzyszy narracja audio puszczana ze własnoręcznie zrobionych głośników.

The Vigilant Beholder is a demon of the late capitalism system. It symbolizes the contemporary exhaustion, doubts, anxiety and fears that haunt modern neoliberal societies. The concept of Vigilant Beholder was born in 2019 out of uncertain experiences, anxiety about the future, and physical and creative exhaustion. The monster is a hybrid of a human and an office chair - which I perceive as an object that symbolizes the labour system of the 21st century from the position in which we currently work, rest, think and experience. 

The Vigilant beholder was first evoked by me in drawing and painting works, then took the form of a material object, accompanied by sound and audio narration played by speakers I built. 

Czuwający / Vigilant Beholder, Survival Art Review, 2020, Wrocław

 

Czuwający / Vigilant Beholder, DOMIE, 2021, Poznań

Czuwający / Vigilant Beholder, "Home-sick-demon" curated by Jakub Kosecki, Pani Domu, 2022, Poznań, photo by Mateusz Piestrak

     

zarraf · Czuwający / Vigilant beholder

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.