Ksenia Pedan, Forming the Culture of a Dormant Brain, Bonniers Konsthall, Stockholm
What do a moth, a drab wet park in wintertime, and a radiator have in common? Ksenia Pedan’s Forming the Culture of a Dormant Brain was one of the few shows this year that made me think. Pedan expanded the exhibition space by including architectural details and clashes between genres, jumpstarting my perception and cognition. I am still trying to figure out how it all worked. It was definitely not one of the clean-cut narratives we are often fed. This was something for the future. Perhaps there is hope for the Swedish art scene after all?
Zhanna Kadyrova, Border Memory, Uppsala Art Museum
In this cursed year of war and extermination, it was a comfort to see someone abstracting from the misery. Zhanna Kadyrova’s series Data Extraction (2011–2013), cut-out asphalt squares from the Ukrainian city of Irpin with the death mark of a rocket, and Harmless War (2023), geometric sheet metal figures pierced by shrapnel, allowed the beautiful to meet the devastating power of the bullet. Using post-minimalist aesthetics to resist the irrepressible logic of war in a way that re-politicised the supposedly neutral object was a much-needed breath of fresh air in these horrific times. Politics may be best conducted explicitly in the street, but Kadyrova showed that the battle is also over the imagination.
Unhealed, Moderna Museet Malmö
In Unhealed, Curators Abir Boukhari and Joa Ljungberg constructed a quietly painful archive of experiences and expressions from the Arab Spring, which is also part of Swedish contemporary history. Perhaps it should have been shown at the National Museum? It included many subtle and often strong works, but it was the experience as a whole that made me breathless – the despair over the hope that was crushed in the wake of that subversive spring in 2011. Muhammad Ali, 366 Days of 2012 (2012): twisted figures day after day. Héla Amar, Tarz (Weaving Time) (2014): memories embroidered by shaken fingers. This was a reminder of a despairing world and an ocean of pain. That is, an animated call, revolution is a must.
Emet Brulin is a critic, writer, and translator. He is a regular contributor to Kunstkritikk.
For this year’s contributions to the Advent Calendar, see here
