Phantom and Paranoia, or Matter and Factography?

Written by Adriana Zofia Zimnowoda, PhD.

Neon works evoke unease and cognitive dissonance in me. Perhaps this is inherent in their nature. They attract and repel. Made of glass tubing, wires, and gas, they are both material and immaterial, beckoning with a phantom presence. They are ambiguous, like the dim glow of a streetlamp in a run-down neighborhood. 

Vivid neon is one of Agnieszka Piotrowska’s preferred media. Functioning independently or interacting with installations, the neon creates a context which does not always become revealed at first glance. In her artist statement, she writes: ”I construct narratives and networks. I choose methods intended to be subversive at their very foundation”. Indeed, Piotrowska’s work is sophisticated in subversiveness. Enticing and intimidating, Agnieszka’s precision and elegance prevail, yet upon closer inspection reveals the brutality embedded in structure. 

Sanfilippo is a dynamic, multicolored neon composition. The structure and colors draw the sight, especially a child’s. With tangled, brightly colored tube, the piece evokes sensory toys designed for young children: rattles made of interlocking loops or bead mazes. The work was inspired by a photograph of two entangled jellyfish which Piotrowska encountered by chance while searching for material on fatal diseases. One species of jellyfish is biologically immortal. Piotrowska juxtaposed this figure of immortality with the incurable childhood genetic disorder referenced in the title of the installation.

Zugzwang is a ‘situation of constraint’ devised by the artist. Meticulously arranged fields of salt and pepper form a chessboard on the floor. On the one hand, the artist invites viewers to enter the installation; on the other, she confronts them, uncompromisingly, with the consequences of entering the game she has initiated. Zugzwang literally means ‘compulsion to move’ and describes a situation in which every possible move works to the player’s disadvantage. Confronted with the work, the viewer is paralyzed. The cold light of the neon word Zugzwang warns against making a move. The installation can even be interpreted as a model of entropy: any interference with the ordered structure of the salt-and-pepper chessboard will set in motion an irreversible process of disintegration.

Rose’s Alphabet. To deprive writing of power, the text must be disarmed: stripped of gravity and fixed meaning. This gesture resembles placing flowers in the barrel of a gun. The neon presents the difficult-to-decipher word ‘blueproof’, written by a little girl during play. Three-year-old Róża did not distort the words deliberately. She reproduced the arrangement of signs as she saw fit. To her, the letters formed an image rather than a message intended to be read. Her spontaneity of vision and freedom of expression had not yet been subjected to the rules of formal education and ready-made patterns. In Róża’s Alphabet, Piotrowska emphasizes the value of experiencing the word intuitively and interpretation with a sense of lightness. This lightness does not imply a simplification of meaning. On the contrary, revealing layers which go unnoticed in an initial reading.

Air in a Balloon. Unification is inherently ugly. The piece strips individuals of their originality and makes them susceptible to control. With red neon, rough shapes like an elongated rectangle, prominently displays the word ‘NASZ’ [OURS] in block capitals, which is suspicious within. Behind the work are 350 instances of the pronoun ‘ja’ (‘I’), written in lowercase and each associated with a pseudo-identity. The red light emitted by the neon reinforces the message: everything here is under control! The title Piotrowska gave the work does not readily suggest any connection with form. Air in a Balloon? In a commentary published on her website, the artist refers to the mechanisms of control discussed by Michel Foucault in numerous writings. Let us follow this line of interpretation. ‘NASZ’ is a formula of appropriation through which power becomes asserted. The balloon serves as a model of such a collective. The air inside represents the prevailing doctrine. Most intriguing, however, is the resilience of the balloon’s walls. Every collective contains individual ‘I’s which are more resistant to indoctrination and therefore threaten the stability of a structure founded on obedience. Piotrowska, however, says nothing about this.

Vacancy*. The installation addresses the false promise of jobs being available. Do not be deceived: this vacancy is not waiting for you! Rubber boots filled with water are crucial to the interpretation of Piotrowska’s work. They constitute an absurd figure, negating their intended function: to protect the feet from water and allow comfortable movement in adverse conditions. The boots are “occupied from within”. They have been filled with water which, although barely visible, significantly increases their weight and renders them immobile. This paradox brings to mind the widespread phenomenon of ghost job postings: advertisements for positions which employers have no real intention of filling. In a broader sense, the rubber boots evoke the roles and functions imposed on us by society. The roles we are expected to assume are sometimes filled with other people’s expectations, like rugger boots with water. We cannot step into them. 

[*vacancy, job opening, vacant position, vacant room, absence, thoughtlessness, indifference].

Crocodiles and Oranges. Aggression does not always assume warning colors, especially when suppressed. Manifesting through withdrawal, self-irony, coldness, and passive resistance. At times, seeking to conceal the internal nature behind expressions of warmth, kindness, and sympathy for another person’s loss. Piotrowska, however, does not offer anyone sweet oranges. “I am a crocodile,” she declares. The installation consists of fruit scattered haphazardly across the floor, evoking love and care that are no longer present, and a neon depicting two crocodiles fighting each other, embodying trapped feelings. Cold, fluorescent green light gives the scene a post-apocalyptic quality. The people who mattered most to Piotrowska are gone. Only animals fighting for survival remains: one final, hopeless struggle of wounded emotions.

Impractical Device I. The play on words in the title of this essay, Phantom and Paranoia, or Matter and Factography?, comes from the text accompanying Piotrowska’s object Impractical Device I. Although the work does not belong to the family of neon pieces, the artist’s commentary reveals the interpretive paths and modes of thought characteristic of her critical practice. An immaculately white optical device rests on an equally immaculate white shelf mounted on a wall clad in white tiles. The laboratory atmosphere created by the installation ought to inspire trust. After all, the scene radiates harmony, calm, perhaps even safety: ‘no noise here,’ ‘nothing happens here’. Yet Impractical Device I is a strange hybrid with three lenses. Allowing us to perceive unexpected ‘orders’, for whom is this impractical device intended? Piotrowska directs the interpretation toward the psychotic world of the insane and the centuries-old concept of the third eye. I propose restoring this interpretation to the realm of artistic sensitivity. Such sensitivity is as elusive as penetrating, so a dismissal as impractical by a technology-driven, pragmatic society, much like the object in the title, comes as no surprise. Yet this is precisely where the work’s strength lies. An artist who moves attentively through reality, as Piotrowska does, can perceive and understand the mechanisms of life inaccessible to a ‘practical’ gaze, owing to her ability to see what lies behind the scenes.

photograph of Agnieszka Piotrowska, DFA