top of page

zofia

2015

 

 

 

     

The family story is about my great-aunt Zofia who lived in a wooden hut with hand-painted roses. She came from a large family and was a half sister of my grandfather - the eleventh child. In this history there was a displacement, a discord. Another relationship and a new child disrupt certain order. All the brothers are stepbrothers and a cousin who should be the same age is about to die. Some roles and relations are distorted. Just like the names of the functions in each family. Father eventually becomes a grandfather, a woman becomes a mother.
 
Language responds to this state of things. Words take a journey and the rose is red. Trails blurre, memories fade. In the absence of evidence a language repetition becomes the only possible (because the only real) content. The rose fades. It remains to repeat stubbornly Zofia is Zofia, roses are roses and the story is just a story. I do not get the answers to the question who Zofia was and whether the story with roses is true. The rose finally blooms blue.

 

 

curator: Marta Kudelska

photos: Tomasz Biały

 

alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska  Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska  Izabela Leska
alt Izabela Łęska Izabela Leska
bottom of page