European Table Set, 2024 -...

by Olena Kovach with the participation of Magdalena Tryba and Annmarie Frascoli

A collective project by artists from Ukraine, Poland, and Switzerland. "European Table Set" conveys the artists' reflections and premonitions about the state of Europe and tells about the value of community in times of upheaval. This is an artistic letter to old Europe.

The exhibition consists of three parts: a series of collaged photographs, a ceramic site-specific installation, and video documentation of a performance. It reflects the artists' long-standing interest in vernacular photography and "found objects" as witnesses and narrators of stories. For a conversation about old Europe, shrouded in myths and the sweet taste of idealization, they chose an object that embodies class inequality, conceals intercultural dialogue, and is a well-known object of festive use. Three different mediums reveal the key object of the exhibition – a table set – which serves as an artifact of the era and a symbol of traditions, everyday practices, and aesthetics of past times.

The table set conceals a beauty that has already withered, or perhaps was only imagined, and is no longer able to serve drinks from its vessels. Modern Europe faces a great threat, an attack on truth, in which past adorations are of no help. The table set as a certain construction of the world order is fragile.

The artist invites reflection on the present, which has sharpened the boundaries of the common and the separate, closeness and alienation. Just as a table set is a collection of separate parts that acquire meaning only in a common ritual, so the creative process brings artists to a common table in a gesture of searching for an answer: how to live in a time when the foundations of the general order have proven too fragile? Community in times of instability works as a form of resistance – through the multiplicity of voices, the ability to hear each other, share experiences, and include another person in one's own space.

Curatorial text by Maria Varlyhina, Tower Gallery, Krakow.

Letter to Europe

Hello, dear grandmother. When I miss you most, I sometimes pull out our old photo albums—the ones with pictures from your wedding, fancy dances, and those peaceful park strolls—and just sit looking at you. They’re filled with such joy and carefreeness that everything feels right with the world when I flip through them. It calms me down. You bring beauty wherever you go. Looking at these snapshots, I get lost in your wonderful stories—like that tale about the princess carried away to where the sun meets the horizon, giving birth to her sons by the ocean’s edge. But I also remember your darker stories—about babies born in basements during wartime. I used to think no one had children during wars. Do you still remember telling me those stories? Grandmother, what colour was the sky back then? Is the cloud heading our way now starting to look the same? You’ve always been so wise, always knowing how to reassure me. Can you hear it too—that sound in the air, like glass shattering somewhere distant? Promise me something: when the world starts falling apart—not just in our fears but for real—you’ll remember how to fortify our walls and find us shelter before it’s too late. And when everything grows dim and the rumbling starts, remember this: together, we'll make it through. We'll save all those treasured memories from your albums. Take care. May your sky stay the color of a peaceful morning.