CT/ Gallery / The Landscape of Absence

In order to understand the themes of The Landscape of Absence, it is essential to first outline—at least briefly—the theoretical and intellectual sources from which the exhibition project and the works of the individual authors draw.

As Jiří Sirůček writes in his book Neklidné hranice: Posthumanistická planetární (po)etika (and we take this opportunity to thank him for writing it), over the past twenty years—during which the climate crisis has become increasingly apparent and the far-reaching impact of human activity on our planet has come to light—the scientific community has been discussing the renaming of our current geological epoch from the Holocene to the Anthropocene, i.e., the Age of the Human. Given everything that is happening—ecosystem transformations, species extinction, desertification (i.e., the destruction of natural resources such as soil, water, vegetation), more frequent destructive fires, melting glaciers and permafrost, rising sea levels, temperatures, and ocean acidity, as well as the devastation of traditional habitats accompanied by environmental migration—this era paradoxically brings about a destabilization of the values upon which human (meaning Western) society has been built. We find ourselves in a situation where it is clear that our actions are self-destructive because they are destructive to our environment. We are beginning to re-evaluate our perception of our role in the world, our separation from nature and its processes, and the Enlightenment-born notion of a superior human as the driving force of the world. Through our “industrial hedonism,” we have demonstrably triggered a series of destructive processes.

This is related to what is known as environmental grief, referring to “the mourning emotions over worlds that have been irreversibly destroyed by climate or other crises.” Jiří Sirůček recalls a quote by environmentalist Bill McKibben, who argues that “living in the Anthropocene means being born into a world that no longer exists.” However, it is possible to harness this grief as a form of personal activism and an opportunity to help bring about remediation. Generation Z (people born after 1995) is referred to in environmental studies as the “last generation,” as it considers itself—during this critical phase of the climate crisis—to be the final generation capable of preventing the complete destruction of biodiversity. But is it possible to break free from this self-destructive era? What could or should we do to achieve that? Where should this re-evaluation of humanity’s role in the world lead?

Posthumanism (or the related term postanthropocentrism or new materialism) can help guide us in this direction. If we reconsider our exalted position on Earth, we will also be able to reevaluate how we perceive the position of all the entities that share it with us, and abandon the idea that our planet is merely an unlimited source of raw materials to satisfy human needs. According to scholar and philosopher Donna Haraway, we must realize “that even processes we often consider exclusively human are, in fact, influenced by the nonhuman world and vice versa.” In this sense, it would then be possible to view our position as part of what Sirůček refers to as more-than-human relations. And this brings us to the term posthumanism, which “does not so much designate a time coming after (post) the Human; the prefix ‘post’ does not aim to eliminate humanity, as some believe, but rather to emphasize its mutual coexistence with the nonhuman.” In this era, the focus would be on empathetic coexistence with other creatures, organisms, and plants, with the entire planet, and perhaps even with the internet and artificial intelligence. From the Anthropocene, we would transition into the Neganthropocene, the age of the nonhuman—that is, a new human “fused” with its environment.

The artworks on display reflect on these themes, examining the contemporary world and its trajectory. Artists have been exploring these ideas for some time, arriving at a variety of positions. Yet as the exhibition’s title suggests, they also address visions in which humans no longer inhabit our planet. Questions about the cause of our demise, our culpability, and the shape of a world without the human race allow us to perceive our lived reality in a different light. The objects and images in The Landscape of Absence reflect on the relationship between the rapidly transforming technological world, society, and ecosystems that are quickly losing their stability. In this context, all traditional dichotomies—nature versus culture, organic versus artificial—fade into hybrid forms where biological and synthetic structures seamlessly merge. Here, art functions both as a tool of imagination and as a warning, a catalyst for speculations about a future in which the human perspective loses its former significance and ceases to be the measure of value and meaning.

Andrea Mikyska

Three digital collages present possible future mutations of plants that, in response to changing living conditions, have developed a sort of “armor.” They have adapted to a world flooded with artificially created materials, which have become part of their bodies. These bodies are partly metallic, plastic, and glass, and may even contain materials that do not yet exist, while still remaining living organisms. The images were created using 3D scans of the Central European landscape combined with 3D modeling. The artist has long been exploring the tension in modern life, arising from the interplay between technological optimism and the fear that technology will ultimately dominate us.

Andrea Mikyska (*1993) is a graduate of the Supermedia Studio at the Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design in Prague. She also completed internships in experimental film and new media at the Universität der Künste (UDK) in Berlin, at the University of Applied Arts in Vienna, and in Belgrade.

Lenka Glisníková

The glossy, organically shaped objects from the series You Could Feel the Friendly Stranger (2023) may, in their form, resemble remnants of human technologies swallowed by the sea and fused with living organisms, which—in the context of the Landscape of Absence—we can perceive as hybrid creatures that inhabit it. Once again, we encounter a mutation here, where the organic and the artificial have merged into a single entity. In terms of technique, these are digital collages in which we can find various objects commonly used by humans.

Lenka Glisníková (*1990) studied photography at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Ostrava under Michal Kalhous and at the Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design in Prague under Aleksandra Vajd and Martin Kohout. She is the 2023 laureate of the Jindřich Chalupecký Award and, together with Karolína Matušková, forms the photography duo Shotby.us.

Natália Sýkorová

We can perceive the large-scale installation Affinity in the Drain (2024–2025) on several levels. At first glance, it references architecture—human constructions that offer protection from the dangers of the surrounding world. The interior arrangement can then serve as a subtle reminder that we have integrated technology not only into the realms of science and engineering but also into our most intimate and secure spaces. And the fog emanating from the center of the object, spreading a herbal scent throughout the exhibition, alludes to weather and humanity’s evolving relationship with it over the ages, including its role in ancient rituals tied to fears of global collapse.

Natália Sýkorová (*1998) is a performer and artist who studied experimental architecture at the Bartlett School of Architecture in London and sculpture at the Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design in Prague. The intersection of magic and technology in relation to architecture and bodies is the central theme of her artistic practice. In her work, she addresses complex systems, automation, and climate change, while her performances engage a broader concept of weather anthropology that encompasses both the experience of environmental grief and the search for new ways of perceiving our immediate surroundings.

Kryštof Brůha

Like Natália Sýkorová’s piece, Kryštof Brůha’s object speaks primarily in the cool language of metal and scientific processes, reflecting human progress in technological fields. As part of his installations, he uses tools referencing scientific research—such as lasers, robotic arms, or translucent displays—and works with generative design, custom-designed algorithms, and machine learning methods. This particular installation employs the effect of viewing a display through a movable polarizing film, allowing the video to be seen only from a specific angle. The contrast between the highly technological sphere and the, in this instance, suppressed organic world points to Brůha’s central theme: time in relation to the transformation of matter, observable here in the context of the lifespan of both spheres over short- and long-term intervals. In previous projects, he has explored the transformation of specific environments on the planet over certain periods, visualizing these changes through algorithms using macro images photographed from space.

Kryštof Brůha (*1990) is a graduate of the New Media Studio at the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague. He has completed internships at UMPRUM (the Supermedia Studio) and at the Indonesian Institute of the Arts in Yogyakarta. He is the 2023 laureate of the Jindřich Chalupecký Award, and since 2024, he has been leading the Time-based Media Studio at the Faculty of Art and Design at Jan Evangelista Purkyně University in Ústí nad Labem.

Stanislav Zábrodský

The diptych bas-reliefs on display, Almost time for a Bliss (2024) and Arcadia (2024), are made from a concrete mix inspired by limestone formations, which most often preserve prehistoric fossils. Like Kryštof Brůha, Stanislav Zábrodský also focuses on the theme of the passage of time as recorded in the transformation of matter. In his approach, however, this change is artificially induced. He allows the material—a cluster of minerals, clays, and other soil components—to become stone through firing, which accelerates geological processes. During firing, crystals grow, and the materials condense or fuse in ways that Zábrodský directs by developing his own glaze formulas. The relief design emerging from the layers of pigment is intentionally almost imperceptible. It is biomorphic, potentially referencing a specific, now nonexistent landscape or perhaps a CT cross-section of human organs. Through this understated, multi-layered fusion, he reflects on the current accelerating climate collapse, the disruption of the existing ecosystem, and the geological and biochemical structures of the Earth in the Anthropocene era.

Stanislav Zábrodský (*1996) is a graduate of the Intermedia Studio at the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague. In 2023, he participated in residencies at Petrohradská kolektiv and the J&T Magnus Art Residency.

Šimon Chovan

The works from the Dendritic tissue series (2024) refer to dendritic cells, which serve as a link between innate and adaptive mechanisms of the immune system and can be crucial in, for instance, developing new vaccines or treating tumors. This already suggests that the organic form we see alludes less to the plant world and more to viral, tumorous, parasitic growth. Here, we return to the principle used by both Andrea Mikyska and Lenka Glisníková—the merging of the synthetic and the organic within a living body. Chovan’s objects contain a dual illusion: it’s not just about the form but also the material, which at first glance appears natural because its surface is composed of volcanic sand. Only in certain areas, if we examine the objects more closely, do we find disruptions that reveal artificial materials—rubber, plastics, wires, metals, and more—beneath the sand. In this way, Šimon Chovan draws a parallel between his objects and the reality in which even the human body (including the placentas of pregnant women) contains microplastics, or in which plastiglomerates—rocks formed by the bonding of natural debris in sun-melted plastic waste—can be found along coastlines. The objects relate to parasitic, bacterial, and viral threats that could lead to our demise, whose emergence humankind in the Anthropocene strongly influences.

Šimon Chovan (*1994) is a graduate of the Academy of Fine Arts and Design in Bratislava and completed his master’s studies at the Sandberg Institute’s Fine Arts department in Amsterdam.

Inside Job (Ula Lucińska & Michał Knychaus)

The three-channel video from 2021, Possibility we are poisoned, offers us a view into a dark universe where a subtle yet fundamental change begins to unfold. Petrified seeds on the surfaces of rocks drifting through space start to germinate, transforming everything around them. The artists thus refer to the process of dormancy—the ability of certain organisms to produce so-called “sleeping seeds” or to halt or slow physiological processes during times of threat in order to survive unfavorable conditions. The work’s title is taken from the poem Loba by Diane di Prima, and the accompanying commentary is a compilation of quotes from her poems and those of other authors such as Hélène Cixous, Marina Tsvetaeva, Patrícia Rehder Galvão, Sylvia Plath, María Sabina, and others. The objects on display in the next room belong to the Will Spread installation from 2024. They connect an organic form—in this case, botanical—with the materiality of metal. The inspiration here comes from thistles growing through post-industrial ruins, which the Inside Job duo has photographed during their field research, as well as shapes of unknown plants recorded in the medieval Voynich Manuscript. The suspended object Behind the Mouths gate something is stirring, is flickering (2024) likewise references plant life and is inspired by carnivorous pitcher plants. Yet the materials used point to human activity: textiles, wax, and illegible text fragments.

Ula Lucińska (*1992) and Michał Knychaus (*1987) both graduated from the New Media Department at the University of the Arts in Poznań, Poland. As an artistic duo, they exhibit in a Europe-wide context. In the Czech Republic, they previously exhibited in 2021 following their residency at the former Futura gallery.

Mark Dorf

The final piece in the exhibition is the video New Nature (2021) by New York–based artist Mark Dorf. It concludes the show because, in light of the exhibition’s themes, it offers a completely different perspective. Within the Landscape of Absence, the work looks back to a time when humans still inhabited this planet. We see a forest, hear birdsong, and observe a valley with green slopes and rocks under a blue sky. Yet occasional disruptions—a digital grid or pixelation—hint that we are not viewing actual nature but its digital likeness. A person sits and gazes into a monitor. Again, a hybrid system arises at the boundary between the organic and the technological. But is it just an illusion? Technology has entered our world and altered it so fundamentally that we can no longer be sure what we are looking at. Within the context of Krajiny nepřítomnosti, this video serves as a reflection on humanity—a reminder of the fragility of the environment we still inhabit. The video poses the question, “Tell me what you see from your position?” It is precisely this question about our own viewpoint on this topic—our own vision of possible future worlds—that should ideally resonate with visitors even after they leave the exhibition space. Indeed, it primarily raises the issue of what we perceive as a threat and how we try to mitigate it.

Mark Dorf (*1988) is a graduate of the Savannah College of Art and Design and the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. He exhibits regularly in the United States and Europe, and in 2016, he took part in a residency at MeetFactory in Prague.