Every year the conceptualisation of the graduate exhibition seems to begin with a dilemma. The dilemma reappears in its various iterations as questions of where to search for a binding concept that would tie everything into a cohesive whole, or whether it is not better, even more honest, to let the works simply be as they are, presented with little to no intervention. Faced with the situation in which all superimposed ideas are superfluous at best, we tend to let things unfold naturally, whatever we might imagine this to mean.

In such circumstances, curating the graduate show unravels as an exercise in labor of care in which empathy and relentless support replaced more authorial approaches, for which there was perhaps no space in the first place. I joined the process as a helpful peer, whose primary task was to provide care – a confirmation of the etymological roots of the activity. All of us collectively understood that much of what was difficult had been a consequence of the heightened emotions and stresses that permeate this fragile, precarious moment upon which so much depends. I am hopeful that this in a way generational pairing ultimately proved a fruitful collaboration, one that has made it at least a little easier for the new graduates to navigate the final demands of their studies.

It was exactly this proximity that allowed the more intuitive and malleable collaborative processes of the exhibition becoming – thoughts growing around the unyielding bodies of graduate works. The idea of a certain wilderness, of gardens growing unruly and untenable, germinated around these individual practices. Without attempting to make an absolute statement, it became clear that there were certain connections and relationships to be established, certain most potent themes of interest and preoccupation to be taken into account. Relating to and comprehending nature, envisioning and enacting communal efforts – with human and more-than-human entities – as well as tending to the land and the thin membrane that enwraps the inner worlds. Searching for the points in which nature gives way to history or the pockets of social fabric in which one finds one’s place. Or the eternal questions of the urgency of the condition of human labour.

The idea of the Wild Fruits comes as a synthesis of experiences of the past few months, during which time the graduation works were being finalised and the exhibition was being prepared. The associative notions of wild apples, stinging nettles, and overgrown thickets are not there as a superimposed framework – they exist in-between the spaces of the individual artistic positions, as soft and cushioning foliage. Though inessential for the exhibition itself, they support it from bellow. Grassroots tools of situatedness for coexisting symbiotically, engaging in nutrient exchange, and establishing cross-pollinating relationships. Fertilising the wilderness. It all inherently carries questions of working with disobedience, of collaborating with what is beyond control and governance. Caring for the unruly with the same determination and purpose as for the more gentle spirits, for situations that are more predictable.

In our imaginative environmental rewilding, these culminating works might have certain properties for the ailments of the general human condition in the era of crisis upon crisis.

Search for works that:

Provide self-care, promote good sleep. Stimulate the imagination and the courage to go beyond the obvious. Help to overcome the fear of interacting with art (recommended to be taken upon arrival).

Induce a state between waking and dreaming – not to be given to children unsupervised.

Improve night vision. Increase blood pressure (take with caution). Help one feel the moment. Allow for self-reflection. Inspire introspection and uncovering.

Map the inner emotional landscape.

Dust off memories. Alleviate sensory over-saturation. Bring us back to ourselves. Cure loneliness. Disinfect wrongdoings.

Unblock a stuck point of view. Provide certainty. Make space for attention and concentration.

Works that are an anesthetic. Or an antioxidant.

That help us to look inward and see the little things.

Find a sense of understanding. Induce a sense of security – to be inhaled for 30 minutes.

Observe changes in old situations that are new, and in new situations that are old. That are antidotes to people’s disconnection from their natural environment.

That help enter the world. Prevent absence. Replenish energy.

Fertilize the soil with tears.

Heal worn-out machines suffering from automatism.

Counteract feelings of bleakness. Dilate the pupils. Facilitate iron absorption.

Aid concentration at work. Improve digestion.

Support a flowering of the imagination. [1]

The annotations of individual works and projects that are compiled in the following catalogue were written by the artists and are here as their own authorial takes on their own artistic practices, their winding paths, and the fruits of their labor on display at their graduate show. They all aim to shorten the distance between artwork and spectator, offering an exploration of the folds of motivation and inspiration that brought these works to life.

For all the trust that has been placed in me, I would like to thank Rector Maria Topolčanská and Vice Rector Anetta Mona Chisa.

For all her immense support and help, I thank my dear colleague Veronika Zapatová. And for enabling the creation of this printed catalogue, my thanks go to Petra Švecová, Dagmar Svatošová, and Petr Hrůza.

Lamija Čehajić

1. Uses and applications provided by the artists.