The term “cantilever” originates in engineering—it refers to a load-bearing structure that is fixed at only one end and yet, seemingly defying the laws of statics, extends freely into space: a balance of tension and support, of anchorage and suspension. Joanna Buchowska, however, borrows this term not from architecture but from figure skating. In figure skating, the “cantilever” position describes the moment when the skater leans far backward, with the upper body almost parallel to the ice, while the movement continues across the surface—a body that appears to be standing still yet continues to move inexorably forward. A state of in-between: no longer upright, not yet fallen, sustained by a force that is scarcely comprehensible from the outside.
It is precisely in this space—between movement and stillness, between stability and weightlessness—that Joanna Buchowska’s visual art finds its place.
Buchowska works with paper and glue, but also with paint, brushes, and various pens. From cut, layered, and painted fragments, she creates works—both small-scale and large-scale, expansive pieces—that seem familiar at first glance: interiors, buildings, and landscapes that come together logically and harmoniously in their arrangement. The perspective is correct, the proportions seem to hold, and the eye finds a point of reference at first. But upon closer inspection, this structure begins to shift. Spaces that should actually be self-contained open up in impossible directions. Architectural forms blend into landscapes that cannot exist as depicted. Some works are completely devoid of people—silent, almost reverent spaces in which absence itself becomes the actual subject. In others, however, figures appear that at first seem human but usually lack the defining characteristic of individuality: the face. These figures are both there and absent, present and anonymous—projection surfaces without identity that populate the space without claiming it for themselves.
This gives rise to a pictorial principle that resembles the cantilever movement itself: the rules of perspective and spatial logic are both observed and simultaneously subverted. What at first glance appears to be a coherent image turns out, upon closer inspection, to be a finely balanced imbalance—an unreality that announces itself not through an obvious rupture but through a subtle shift. Buchowska’s works appear like snapshots of a space that is simultaneously in motion and at a complete standstill. One thinks one recognizes something familiar, only to be surprised by one’s own perception the very next moment: What do we actually see when the familiar rules apply only partially?
It is this state of suspension—between construction and dissolution, between anchoring and open space—that makes “Cantilever” a fitting title for this exhibition. Buchowska’s works pause without coming to a standstill. They carry the viewer to a point where the image seems to teeter on the brink of tipping over, without ever falling. A state of permanent, silent movement—driven by an inner logic that eludes the first glance and reveals itself only upon closer inspection.