The pulsating rhythm of the music transitions seamlessly to the monotonous sound of the washing machine. The cycle ends in spinning, rinsing, and draining. Drying. Galaxies of swirling socks are sucked into black holes. From now on, lonely and flawed, they orbit in another universe. Dryer filters covered in everyday dust, a felt suit chewed to the bone by insects and buried in a box in a museum storeroom, and the belief that art has the power to heal – they all remind us that every day, we become encrusted with layers of successive versions of ourselves. With this comes the need for self-definition and the urge to present ourselves anew again and again.
The title of the exhibition can mean a secret or mysterious fall, a lapse, but also a blunder or indiscretion. Towards what or whom? To ourselves? Time as such? A lapsus is also a voice from the unconscious, into whose abyss we throw whatever is inconvenient. Szostek’s realisations are almost always about the unyielding end. What they have in common is a reaction to reality by resorting to the ignoble. That is why, when confronted with her projects, we arrive at an image of a world that is incoherent, torn by contradictions and absurdities. And yet we smile because the artist’s works, which combine ordinary objects in disarming constellations, are characterised by a discreet sense of humour. There are dissimilarities and divergences in Szostek’s actions, but her works always elude established codes.
