A Light Without Shadow, No. 2_Weronika Trojanska

“Last month I said that I had stopped counting days. I did, that’s true. But not because I don’t fill out my agenda anymore (I am grateful for still having a job), or because I am able to fall asleep only at 5 o’clock in the morning (luckily I have no problem with insomnia), or because I don’t keep track od what day of the week it is (that happened to me sometimes even before the lockdown). But because time has a different structure now. If one can call it a structure at all. If one can call it time at all, this trance-like, almost hallucinogenic experience. It is governed by its own laws (regulated by the pandemic, I assume). What we used to call “a day”, “a week”, “a month”, have become one big mass interrupted by the biological needs for sleep and what it entails (thinking about eating, washing, etc). Things I do (and I am not able to do much) hang in some sort of time limbo. I can’t tell what I did yesterday or two weeks ago. No long term plans, no deadlines, etc. The time, as we had understood it, has stopped, until further notice. It’s a curse and a blessing. However, it’s not the end of the world yet. The internet works and the sun still rises and sets. I guess. At least that’s what I want to believe in. I should start playing Christian Marclay “The Clock” on repeat to have a sense of passing time, as I do not trust my watch anymore. It “is very much about death in a way. It is a memento mori. The narrative gets interrupted constantly and you’re constantly reminded of what time it is”, said Marclay about his work. I feel like somehow in our new reality, as some people call it, the future doesn’t exist. But neither does the present. Take one day at a time, some other people say. But what if all days are the same and you don’t know anymore where they begin and end? What we are left with is the past. Grief for The Past, to be precise. And as with every loss, we’ll eventually get over it.”

Christian Marclay. The Clock (video stil), 2010. Single-channel video with sound, 24 hours. © Christian Marclay. Courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York.

Antonio de Pereda y Salgado, Allegory of Vanity, 1632-1636, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

Weronika Trojańska received her MFA from the Academy of Fine Arts in Poznań, Poland, and Sandberg Institute in Amsterdam. In her artistic practice she explores the concepts of auto/biography and self, through gestures and studying the characteristics of other artists. Her ongoing project is based on the attitude of an American art dealer Richard Bellamy during his famous studio visits. In 2016, Trojanska also performed the historic “Cut Piece” by Yoko Ono at the Museum der Moderne in Salzburg. Her work has been presented at the Eye Filmmuseum in Amsterdam, Emily Harvey Foundation (NYC), MoMA (NYC), Cuchifritos Gallery + Project Space (NYC), Printed Matter Inc., (NYC), 3,137, (Athens), MuzeuMM in Los Angeles or Institute of Contemporary Arts Singapore (ICAS), among others. Trojanska is also an active art writer. She publishes in a number of Polish and English-speaking media.