Tanja Pak

Our life is secured like a cross to a coordinate system: we move through it vertically and lie down to rest in a horizontal. Tanja Pak simbolically illustrates this using an illuminated vertical of raindrops, falling down from nothingness high up in the Pentagonal tower of Ljubljana's castle, only to disseappear once again into nothing down below. In the castle Casemates she set up a horizontal of hovering translucent, radiant little shells, hovering in from and then out to the unknown. Our life's path is beeing swept away, whirled and swirled by a fatal and coincidental unpredictability, just like the wind sweeps away, whirls and swirls raindrops, rivers and oceans, together with every thing swaying in unison with their surfaces. Nevertheless, each drop has to end up somewhere, it falls to the ground, penetrates under it, evaporates. Sooner or later, every ship is lost from our sight. Nature and its forces get this done on the macrocosmic level, while the coordinates of microcosm lead and direct our whishes, passions and desires of our human bodies on both conscious and unconscious levels. Droplets and tiny boats are their most beautiful allegories, brittle in their glassy nature, as only Tanja Pak can conjure them. They keep reminding us how easily they shatter: in an instant, as quickly as our illusions. And yet, in this timeless cycle of eternity, everybody strives for their life, for a moment of calm levitation, even though each one of us knows it will end in a vertiginous fall.

Jure Mikuž