Modest lines, as if motionless but shimmering and stretched as a string, discreet reflections of hidden mirrors, empty surfaces folded in three dimensions as Katarzyna Kobro's spatial models. Sometimes there arises the fourth dimension or its impression, like a sound of dripping water or sea waves - continuous, ceaseless. Maria Wasilewska tries to people these deformed spaces, both strange and fascinating like in a child kaleidoscopes; but also they are submissive in their withdrawal from the world of bulging, attractive forms towards an intruder who searches for something to familiarize so that one can say anything about it, one seems to believe he/she knows anything. Consistent and inhuman reduction of starting points demands resignation from habits, patterns of perceptions pleased by platitudes. This is like a play with seemingly incoherent clues which cannot be put together in one unity, when the close becomes far, left becomes right and the other way round, the touch becomes only a gesture frozen in a surprising empitness. One may pose a question whether the creator of these worlds is not an intruder herself in them. And then, when the light is switched on we seem to notice a ball of tangled up string, a wheel, a paint-stained dress and a broken mirror.

Andrzej Wasilewski, 2007 r