Giants
2022-2023
Sculptures. Plaster, old bedding, branches from Vitsula river.
~320 cm high each figure
Giants is a series of sculptures made from old
bed linen soaked in gypsum and fallen branches
collected along the Vistula River and the
Polish-Belarusian border. Fabric associated with
sleep and the body, and branches carrying traces of
the landscape, reflect themes of memory and
transition.
Monumental yet hollow, the works are sarcophagi without fixed form. They invite touch, but inside they remain open — spaces waiting to be filled with new stories or memories. Over time, each piece decays and slowly settles back into the landscape that shaped its material presence.
The project reflects on cultural memory and political erasure — on moments when biography, language, or origin are suppressed. These sculptures are containers, not portraits. They resist the finality of gravestones, which signal that a return is no longer possible, and instead remain open to what might still come back. Giants refuse to be forgotten: even as they decay, they endure as traces, keeping the space between past and present open. It is not their emptiness that invites return, but the persistence of their form — an open structure able to hold any story, personal or collective.
This process reflects my interest in how memory survives erasure: not as a fixed monument, but as a fragile, living imprint that can be reclaimed and reimagined across time.
Monumental yet hollow, the works are sarcophagi without fixed form. They invite touch, but inside they remain open — spaces waiting to be filled with new stories or memories. Over time, each piece decays and slowly settles back into the landscape that shaped its material presence.
The project reflects on cultural memory and political erasure — on moments when biography, language, or origin are suppressed. These sculptures are containers, not portraits. They resist the finality of gravestones, which signal that a return is no longer possible, and instead remain open to what might still come back. Giants refuse to be forgotten: even as they decay, they endure as traces, keeping the space between past and present open. It is not their emptiness that invites return, but the persistence of their form — an open structure able to hold any story, personal or collective.
This process reflects my interest in how memory survives erasure: not as a fixed monument, but as a fragile, living imprint that can be reclaimed and reimagined across time.
