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Twelve paintings by Wojciech Gilewicz were on display from September 2006 through June 2007 in Wrocław’s market square and Kuźnicza St. The works, which depicted unattractive fragments of the city (paving slab, pieces of a wall, windowsill, etc.), reproduced and hid the real objects so well that passers-by could not tell the difference between the painted canvases and reality. At the same time, starting from October 2006, Entropia Gallery screened a 6-minute video documenting the outdoor process of painting and using the finished paintings to cover fragments of the city. In the project made for Entropia, Gilewicz employed the same illusion-generating effect he had used several times before (in the projects undertaken in Paris, Warsaw, Łódź, and other locations), which raises the question about the meaning of repetition.
Deleuze notes that a true repetition is rarely possible: “either the action is changed and improved. . .; or the action remains constant with different intentions and in different circumstances.” The above argument may also be applied to the work of Gilewicz, who makes a vital change in each of his projects, which helps differentiate between them. The project commissioned by the Paris-based Deutsch de la Meurthe Foundation, for example, did not involve video screenings ‘exposing’ the location of the canvases, and the paintings were displayed for a much shorter period of time (several days) on the premises of the foundation, not in public spaces. In another one of his projects, Binary City, Gilewicz utilized the spaces of Warsaw and Łódź: the paintings were made and exhibited in Warsaw and, after making a number of minor changes, they were transposed to the urban environment of Łódź. The differences between the projects are evident, yet the frequent use of the same means of expression raises the question about the meaning of Gilewicz’s art. Let us focus on the Wrocław project.
What is the essence of Gilewicz’s actions? What determines their value? Is it the concept (in this case it is the process of deception and exposing it as such) and the paintings themselves? Or perhaps each time the paintings and the concept are unified to achieve a new quality? The questions may seem banal, but they are raised by the repeated use of the method of creating and shattering illusion. In the Wrocław project, the effect is enhanced by the video, an integral part of the project, in which the artist himself takes part in the process of exposing illusion. Thus he draws attention to the questions of perception and its possible manipulation. The question arises whether the paintings (which are artifacts) can play a role subordinate to the concept? Let us imagine a situation in which the paintings are placed in chosen locations but no one is aware of it because the mechanism of replacement has not been revealed. This was the case with most passers-by. However, what is really important for the artist himself is the experiment that blurs the boundaries between the real world and its pictorial representation. To share his doubts, Gilewicz reveals the secrets of his trade. The paintings are only a means of exploring the existence of real objects and their pictorial representations. Reflection on these questions should begin with the astonishment caused by illusion and shattering the illusion. The moment of revealing the difference between reality and its pictorial equivalent is a dramatic one, as it exposes the failings of visual perception.
Gilewicz’s projects demonstrate that perception is an intentional act and what we really see is what we want to see and what we expect to see. Our eyesight ‘correct’ the perceived image, blurring any differences that would cast it in an unfavorable light. Without the information we have beforehand (including the video and a map showing the locations of the canvases), we would not be able to locate the paintings. The viewers who participate in the project must, for a time, drop their perceptual defenses. It is difficult, as it requires ‘opening ourselves’ to the painting and accepting it whilst defending ourselves from the relentless onslaught of images. The fact of seeing or recognizing a painting, however, does not necessarily lead to its full discovery – it is only the beginning of a game played between the work of art and its viewer. “Both artistic work and its reception are processes of perpetual discovery, discovery that will never discover all that can be discovered, or discover something in a way that rules out the possibility of further discovery,” writes Zygmunt Bauman. Gilewicz offers the possibility of another – this time conscious – encounter with the paintings. Thus he opens the way for a long process of filling them with meanings.
Now, let us have a closer look at the paintings. We can assume they have a value in themselves. If, according to the argument presented above, the canvases are seen as an instrument, a means toward the end of creating illusion, now they become autonomous. Their meaning, however, is questioned at a number of levels. First, the paintings placed in the urban environment are invisible and, therefore, they somehow undermine their ontology which implies ‘visibility’. In addition, there is the problem of exhibiting the paintings, and it is not only related to unattractive locations but also the likelihood of damage. The paintings are subject to the dynamics of urban spaces, and even become a sort of photographic plates on which it is recorded. The canvases tear apart, get wet and become soiled, but all those adverse impacts help create a new, perhaps better, picture of the city. Interestingly, even a passer-by unaware of the project can have direct influence on the paintings by stepping on the ‘paving slab’, leaning against the ‘wall’, or sticking a piece of chewing gum on them. Thus the project carries a high risk of mutilation and even total annihilation of the works of art. The status of the paintings displayed at Entropia Gallery, however, is completely different. Removed from the urban environment and, thus, from their previous context, the paintings take on a new meaning – they gain independence and open up to new interpretations.
The subject of the works, which perfectly reflects the randomness and fragmentariness of the modern world, should also be investigated. The highlighting of some seemingly random fragments of the urban landscape indicates that Gilewicz’s works may be seen as modern vedutas. The inability to capture the whole makes it necessary to depict its fragments. Yet, the reality in Gilewicz’s art is not completely atomized – what connects the paintings is the urban environment in which they are embedded. What changes, however, is the perspective from which we look at the city. We look at fragments of the city as if through the lens of a camera. Looking for elements which will turn out to be somehow important for a certain space, we make many close-ups that draw our gaze to seemingly insignificant objects. When, finally, we decide to take a photo, the frame shows but a close-up of a random part of a wall, a window sill, or a step. Thus we can see a city we do not know, notice details that have so far escaped our attention. Still, it only seems to be a close-up, since the canvases represent reality on a scale of 1 : 1. It reveals new facets of the city: rough walls, irregular textures of numerous coats of paint – many of them peeling off, dirt, cracks in a wall, footprints, etc.
New avenues of interpretation also open up on the assumption that the paintings and the concept form a unified whole. Through the process of covering a piece of reality with its pictorial substitute and revealing that it has been done, Gilewicz draws our attention to the space we live in, showing that, in fact, we do not see it and do not know it. He takes a close look at things that are esthetically unappealing, seemingly worthless, and asemantic. The painted fragments of reality hang from real buildings and objects like Borges’ Map of the Empire. The paintings have covered (replaced?) the reality but that fact has escaped our attention: it happened above us, beyond our consciousness. In this manner Gilewicz makes us aware how helpless we are when we face alluring and illusory images that only pretend to be real. He also demonstrates our lack of reflection on the perception of spaces we have become familiar with. He shatters our safety, showing how illusory it is. It seems to us that we control the space, monitor it on an ongoing basis, and that we will notice any changes that occur within it, including visual ones. However, it is not so, and the awareness of this fact causes well-founded fear. Gilewicz, relying on the trust we place in our perception, demonstrates the resulting dangers. For those unconvinced, he has yet another argument up his sleeve – the canvases removed from their urban context and brought to the gallery cease to be representational paintings. Removing the background resulted not only in changing the meaning but also the genre – the paintings have come a long way from hyperrealism to abstraction.
By constantly repeating his project in different environments and for different audiences, Gilewicz seems to ask the same question about the nature of perception, and appears to challenge the primacy of the visual that is prevalent in our culture. Yet, he does not propose any non-visual factors that could provide an alternative for the ‘civilization of images’. Quite the opposite, he embraces it by utilizing the arsenal of its means. Still, when Welsch says, “when looking, we are the masters of the world”, Gilewicz appears to ask ironically, “Oh, really?”
Another question is the role of information about artworks in the reception of art. We have become accustomed to the idea that the process of interpretation involves linking words and paintings. We take it for granted that we ignore the information we obtain before seeing a work of art. Gilewicz’s project enables us to have a look at the information necessary to locate paintings. A chance encounter may not be enough to recognize them – the paintings not preceded by words will not enter our consciousness. One example can be the canvas fixed to a free-standing power supply box to which many new posters and notices were added. Another painting, placed behind a trash container, remained unrecognized in spite of the fact that the trash<> was removed daily, exposing the whole canvas to view in the process. Uninformed gazes pass over images. It is not until one is informed about them that the images gain their legitimacy.
Out of 12 canvases placed in the streets of Wrocław, 8 remained, including a heavily damaged ‘paving slab’.
