“Hiding is a primary function of life, a necessity bound up with its economy, that is to say with the laying-down of reserves. And since interiority so obviously exercises the function of darkness, we should give equal importance to what brings to light and what casts into darkness when we are classifying dreams of interiority.”
Gaston Bachelard
Caves are semi-autonomous, enclosed circuits: within their microclimates, organisms find shelter that could hardly endure elsewhere. Suspended in time, they resist change – a constant temperature reigns there, indifferent to the rhythms of the seasons unfolding on the surface. The descent into a cave’s interior may be understood as an experience of momentary suspension of being-in-the-world.
In her solo exhibition What the Lips of the Shadow Say, Aleksandra Liput engages with the symbolism of the cave, drawing on Gaston Bachelard’s concept of it as a space of withdrawal, refuge, and regeneration – though she does not confine herself to this interpretation. The artist extends the metaphor of the grotto to encompass what is repressed, what hides from the blinding light of a disciplining logos. At the same time, she emphasizes that deep knowledge can only be achieved through separation and the reduction of external stimuli. Only then can one perceive, as the author of The Poetics of Reverie suggests, that in caves, blackness seems to shine.
To slip into the depths is an act of preventive self-care – not an escape, nor a panic. Nor should it be confused with algophobia, the fear of pain and discomfort which, as Byung-Chul Han notes, defines contemporary societies. On the contrary – entering the cave brings unavoidable consequences: it means confronting what has until now remained hidden – untamed, vital, shameful. The condition for a fruitful encounter is the right disposition – an openness rooted in tender curiosity. The grotto may only be inhabited by those who surrender to its seductive force.
Caves produce the most sensitive of echoes. The aesthetic qualities reverberate throughout the cycle of works on view. Registers of color, geometric motifs, structures, and techniques interweave in shifting configurations. Scattered associations emerge with ritual, with objects of magical or sacred function – imperceptibly transforming into beings that are half-organic, half-reminiscent of geological formations. A sense of unease is tempered by a carefully measured girlish delicacy. A noble, at times lyrical tone collides with expansive eroticism.
At the same time, the uncanny atmosphere is softened by materials associated with home and intimate everyday life: fabric, ceramics, wood. The series of drawings – the point of departure for the exhibition – was created on paper at the artist’s home, at her dining table. Realities – both the everyday and those bound to inner journeys – interpenetrate, remaining half-open. Regeneration does not occur through detachment; withdrawal is not alienation. While we wish to be protected, we do not wish to be shut in.