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Elżbieta Banecka consciously limits the palette. The variable regularity of lines reminds of creations of nature. Modulation of small sequences of numbers or spots relates to the raked gravel, being the image of water. In Elżbieta Banecka’s graphic works, the Ryōan-ji garden is sometimes visibly present, while at other times, it is barely perceptible. If we listen carefully to the sound of a stone, we can achieve satori – the Buddhist awaking. Sansui frozen in stone and gravel – rocks and water resistant to time represent the ideal harmony. To describe the Japanese garden, it would be necessary to track the Eastern worldviews and perceptions – from Buddhism in India, through China, to Buddhism in Japan, to determine the vectors of interpermeating influences of Chinese Taoism, Confucianism, and finally, Japanese Zen. Here, time flows from the present towards the future. Paradoxical compactness and rawness of space are intricately connected to Zen mysticism. The Japanese garden is Elżbieta Banecka’s other fascination. Simplified, reduced to a sign, it hangs in the space determined by the even rhythm of lines created by the raked gravel in the Ryōan-ji garden. Sometimes, they are mimetic, defined, relating to particular kimonos, and at times, they constitute abstractions, impressions, or an idea. Crumpling the paper is like overstepping the safety line it initiates a stage of demystifying the medium, of transgression, and the peculiar rite of passage.
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As it is not about the art of the intricate paper folding but rather about experimenting with spatial paper forms. The term ‘origami’ might be confusing, though. Of those sheets of paper, she creates micro- or macro-scale ‘origami’ imitating the cut and stitching of kimonos, men’s outerwear – haori, or white iromuji. She often mentions how challenging is to acquire the necessary material – handmade and dyed black paper produced in the process of papermaking or the original Japanese rice paper – transparent and as resistant as parchment. To Elżbieta Banecka, paper – being a slow medium – is like an ephemeral lover. She uses it to create structures inspired by kimonos – the installations and assemblages caged in carton boxes, and finally, the raw graphics. The artist’s favorite medium is paper, the Japanese ronbun from the title. Banecka’s journey involves stopping at every single detail of the observed world, paying attention to the most insignificant and trivial objects – a scrap of crêpe paper, fabric, a box, or a line of the raked gravel. Every single step leads to simmering down the reasoning intellect, in the East called the ‘monkey mind’, and directs us towards a transition, balance, peace, and inner liberation. Through the exhibition organized at Kordegarda, the Gallery of the National Centre for Culture, she takes us on a meditative journey. She recalls the feeling of physical closeness and familiarity which accompanied her during her first stay in Osaka in 1991, where – still as a student – she received the brown medal in the International Triennial Competition of Print. I would state that her attitude towards the East is rather organic. For several years, Banecka has been drawing inspiration for her art from the Japanese culture.
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