With no shortage of delays, distractions and detractors, few Polish cultural institutes have sparked more controversy than Warsaw’s Museum of Modern Art (MSN)—now, however, the critics stand to be silenced as the museum unveils its opening exhibition.
Premiering to the public on Friday, The Impermanent—so named due to the temporary nature of the exhibition—presents 150 works divided into four themes, each designed to provide “a unique interpretation of developments in post-war and contemporary art.”
“The Impermanent opens new pathways through the history of post-war and contemporary art, unearthing lost narratives and linking artists and movements across wide geographical and historical ranges,” says Natalia Sielewicz, a curator at MSN.
“The Impermanent opens new pathways through the history of post-war and contemporary art, unearthing lost narratives and linking artists and movements across wide geographical and historical ranges,” says Natalia Sielewicz, a curator at MSN.
The depth of this undertaking becomes immediately apparent. Set across two floors, the exhibition draws visitors in courtesy of Alina Szapocznikow’s ‘Friendship’ monument, an iconic sculpture first designed as part of a 1950s competition to celebrate Polish-Soviet friendship.
Depicting two towering bronze figures joined in fraternal embrace, for decades the work was placed inside Warsaw’s Palace of Culture and Science before being carted away following the collapse of communism—such was its size, though, crews had to saw off the arms of the figures before spiriting them through the doors.
In subsequent years, the work sat forgotten in a private back garden only to later be ‘rediscovered’ and sold at auction in 2019.
Depicting two towering bronze figures joined in fraternal embrace, for decades the work was placed inside Warsaw’s Palace of Culture and Science before being carted away following the collapse of communism—such was its size, though, crews had to saw off the arms of the figures before spiriting them through the doors.
In subsequent years, the work sat forgotten in a private back garden only to later be ‘rediscovered’ and sold at auction in 2019.
With Szapocznikow now regarded as one of Poland’s most important post-war artists, it is fitting that her only surviving work from the Socialist Realist period has been returned within a stone’s throw of its former home.
“Following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine,” explains the informational blurb, “the prevailing order in Europe once again collapsed, and the sculpture became a relic of outdated illusions.”
Weighing in at 3,000 kilos, it is a striking opening statement for the museum to deliver and captures their ‘go big or go home’ ethos.
“Following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine,” explains the informational blurb, “the prevailing order in Europe once again collapsed, and the sculpture became a relic of outdated illusions.”
Weighing in at 3,000 kilos, it is a striking opening statement for the museum to deliver and captures their ‘go big or go home’ ethos.
At MSN, size counts, a point underscored by the nearby presence of Magdalena Abakanowicz’s ‘Monumental Composition,’ a giant, seven-meter-tall, three-dimensional sculpture made of sisal, linen and horsehair.
Hanging as if suspended in time, it is a sweeping work that causes visitors to pause.
Found inside a thematic section titled ‘Synthetic Materialities,’ it is arguably this segment that is the most photogenic, filled as it is with bizarre oddities inspired by the isolationism of the pandemic, provocative photographs, larger-than-life installations, and a stunning, neon-lipped Pop Art portrait by the American artist Sturtevant.
“Fascinations with pop culture, advertising and mass media have been a hallmark of post-war art, but the dreams of the ‘poor fringes,’ including Eastern Europe, have generally been ignored in the global history of art,” says Sielewicz.
Hanging as if suspended in time, it is a sweeping work that causes visitors to pause.
Found inside a thematic section titled ‘Synthetic Materialities,’ it is arguably this segment that is the most photogenic, filled as it is with bizarre oddities inspired by the isolationism of the pandemic, provocative photographs, larger-than-life installations, and a stunning, neon-lipped Pop Art portrait by the American artist Sturtevant.
“Fascinations with pop culture, advertising and mass media have been a hallmark of post-war art, but the dreams of the ‘poor fringes,’ including Eastern Europe, have generally been ignored in the global history of art,” says Sielewicz.
This part of the exhibition seeks to address that by presenting works that embody the consumerist desires that have been present since the times of the Cold War.
“The main metaphor is the ‘plastic body,’ a desiring and desired object, the body as a commodity traded alongside other products arousing desire,” says Sielewicz.
“It is a narrative of the dreams of the citizens of Eastern Europe and the Global South—what do they dream of today, 30 years after the post-communist transformation and the free market revolution.”
To realize this, Sielewicz ensured that female artists were prominently represented. “I was hoping, together with my co-curator, to show that women were always at the forefront of formal experimentation with materials, with reconfiguring and reimagining what a woman is,” she says.
“The main metaphor is the ‘plastic body,’ a desiring and desired object, the body as a commodity traded alongside other products arousing desire,” says Sielewicz.
“It is a narrative of the dreams of the citizens of Eastern Europe and the Global South—what do they dream of today, 30 years after the post-communist transformation and the free market revolution.”
To realize this, Sielewicz ensured that female artists were prominently represented. “I was hoping, together with my co-curator, to show that women were always at the forefront of formal experimentation with materials, with reconfiguring and reimagining what a woman is,” she says.
The other thematic galleries are no less powerful, exploring topics such as, among other matters, the triumph of the human figure as well as ‘the catastrophe of modernity.’
Often challenging and thought provoking, the museum makes its mark by turning the ordinary into the extraordinary. Viewers are confronted, for instance, by ‘127 Bodies’ by the Mexican artist Teresa Margolles.
Unremarkable at first sight, what could be mistaken for a clothesline is, in fact, an installation composed of surgical threads extracted from the many victims of Mexico’s drug wars.
Often challenging and thought provoking, the museum makes its mark by turning the ordinary into the extraordinary. Viewers are confronted, for instance, by ‘127 Bodies’ by the Mexican artist Teresa Margolles.
Unremarkable at first sight, what could be mistaken for a clothesline is, in fact, an installation composed of surgical threads extracted from the many victims of Mexico’s drug wars.
Likewise, ‘Scarecrows’ by Daniel Rycharski initially appears as little more than a fancifully assembled set of brightly colored crucifixes adorned with cast-off clothing. In fact, these are re-sewn garments from LGBT+ people who suffered discrimination.
“When the installation was erected in the fields of the village Kurówka,” informs the accompanying signage, “it raised the issue of homophobia and asked about the role played in it by religion.”
“When the installation was erected in the fields of the village Kurówka,” informs the accompanying signage, “it raised the issue of homophobia and asked about the role played in it by religion.”
Given the number of these discreet, surreptitious messages, it is little surprise that visitors find themselves in a state of heightened alert and occasionally mistaking security guards for living installations.
At MSN, the conventional is brushed aside in favor of high-impact works that aren’t just visually striking but metaphorically as well.
At MSN, the conventional is brushed aside in favor of high-impact works that aren’t just visually striking but metaphorically as well.
With its unsettling aesthetics, Mirosław Bałka’s ‘Black Pope and Black Sheep’ has an ominous shock factor and references irrational beliefs, while Cathy Wilkes’s ‘Untitled’ presents a tableau of discarded objects and hunched figures rendered from somber-colored wool.
A contemporary iteration of a so-called ‘vanitas’ scene, it portrays both material and immaterial worlds while simultaneously inducing a bleak feeling of overwhelming doom—viewing this 2014 work, it is impossible not to think of a refugee family.
A contemporary iteration of a so-called ‘vanitas’ scene, it portrays both material and immaterial worlds while simultaneously inducing a bleak feeling of overwhelming doom—viewing this 2014 work, it is impossible not to think of a refugee family.
Yet despite the emotional weight of the message conveyed by many of the installations, there is much to lift the soul. While many exhibits are found sitting within immense white cube halls, others await discovery inside ambient nooks and through unmarked doors.
To this end, the building itself comes into its own. Proving deeply divisive when its largely empty shell was opened back in October, some likened this oblong block to a logistics warehouse, others to an oversized cargo container.
To this end, the building itself comes into its own. Proving deeply divisive when its largely empty shell was opened back in October, some likened this oblong block to a logistics warehouse, others to an oversized cargo container.
“You can’t build a building in this location, next to the Palace of Culture and Science and next to a commercial street, without eliciting a reaction,” architect Thomas Phifer told TVP World. “I hoped that the building would be a catalyst for debate... and I think that’s all healthy.”
Dissenting voices, though, are gradually growing quieter. Now that it has been filled with art, the building—defined by the spectacular Escher-like double stairwell at its core—has begun to make sense.
Dissenting voices, though, are gradually growing quieter. Now that it has been filled with art, the building—defined by the spectacular Escher-like double stairwell at its core—has begun to make sense.
“It’s absolutely come alive [with the addition of the art],” says Phifer, “it’s become a symbol of a new voice in Warsaw.”
Designed by Phifer to act not just as a museum but also as “a town hall where Varsovians can participate in the life and culture of their city,” there is a growing belief that the capital has been endowed with a world-class institution.
For MSN, meanwhile, the opening of The Impermanent signals a welcome end to 20 years of transient existence.
Designed by Phifer to act not just as a museum but also as “a town hall where Varsovians can participate in the life and culture of their city,” there is a growing belief that the capital has been endowed with a world-class institution.
For MSN, meanwhile, the opening of The Impermanent signals a welcome end to 20 years of transient existence.
“When we set out to build MSN Warsaw’s first permanent home after the institution spent its first two decades as a roving museum, The Impermanent was precisely the kind of ambitious exhibition we wanted to be able to present,” says Joanna Mytkowska, MSN’s director.
“With a new building that matches the strength of our holdings, we now have a home that is perfectly suited to tell stories about the history of art that our collection can tell.”
“With a new building that matches the strength of our holdings, we now have a home that is perfectly suited to tell stories about the history of art that our collection can tell.”
