Bitter Heart is a story of social advancement. An advancement that some could experience firsthand while others could only see on the tv screens of the ’90s and ’00s. The feeling of elusiveness of what was supposed to be within reach forms the main narrative axis of the exhibition. The sentimental narrative unfolds at the intersection of rural peripheries, where the artist grew up, and cities that, in the narrative of neoliberal capitalism, were synonymous with success and the go-to direction for chasing aspirations.

The interiors of homes and their immediate surroundings became spaces reflecting the aspirations of the working class. Various knick knacks, furniture purchased on installments, and heavy synthetic curtains collecting dust filled the living spaces.
These items gave the inhabitants the illusion of approaching the visuality of the “ordinary Polish home,” as created by local television. In the TV series and films from the early millennium (with few exceptions), even families depicted as working-class and experiencing financial difficulties lived in homes and apartments that in reality only the middle class could afford. Klaudia Figura introduces afterimages of stills from these series in the form of stained glass. The stained glass and small lanterns refer to Tiffany lamps, which were going out of fashion but remained popular in those years, gradually being replaced by IKEA design. Accompanying them is another artifact from those times – an oversized “tree of luck.” This esoteric trinket, known from tourist stalls, was meant to attract not only prosperity and success but above all, fortune. The artist replaced the amber in it wi apples and grapes, fruits culturally associated with envy and ressentiment.

The concept of ressentiment here is understood as a spiritual self poisoning resulting from the desire for the unattainable, combined with regret and resentment towards those who possess it. The tension between the sentimental perception of retro visuality and ressentiment (which accompanied us when using items that were mere imitations of what was available only to the wealthiest) is the key to interpreting the story presented by the artist. In the paintings that serve as a sort of scenographic backdrop, the sad faces of dogs hidden in the wood grain appear. They are meant to represent individuals who, consumed by ressentiment, have been metaphorically turned into planks of wood.

The exhibition also includes works that directly reference the periphery. A swing suspended high evokes park aesthetics, romanticizing time spent outdoors. The clothesline bends into fanciful shapes reminiscent of vines or metalwork in nouveau riche villas. The artist aimed to capture fleeting memories of good times and relaxation out in the open air. Although the rural surroundings did not resemble carefully designed park spaces, in increasingly blurred memories, they have undergone a romantic transformation.

In the artist’s memories, the house she grew up in resembled a 19th century hut more than a fashionable interior inhabited by smiling actors. What seemed like wealth and objects of desire from a child’s perspective was also a mere semblance of luxury in reality. Realizing this dependence allows us to view the experience of growing up in the early 2000s not only from the perspective of systemic changes but also from the view of mounting social inequalities fueled by films, series, and books where the concept of class ceased to exist.

— Gabi Skrzypczak