'I have no time
' by Mateusz Sadowski
 at 9/10, Poznań

As we know, there is something extremely frustrating in dealing with constantly busy people. "Lack of time", though it seems like a banal excuse, it is in fact almost a final refusal, reaching rhetoric from the repertoire of the ontological level. What does it mean to have no time? To not be in possession of something that constitutes any form of presence? A meeting rescinded or postponed for a posthumous moment? Who does time belong to? Te private time and the time of the institution is the same: it is "the bureaucracy that we all create". Te negativity concealed in this lack, however, is not explicit, it is put in the brackets of a phrase signaling impatience or resignation, a passive signal of an unspoken but final refusal. In this context, life is transformed into a series of interests, a hurried series of meetings motivated only by the implementation of particular aspirations. "Lack of time" represents the idea of time taken out of the mechanism of commitment. In this context, even everyday romance becomes only a banal business.

Escape from love always ends at work. Thus, the scenery, which would even allegorically point to this basic abandonment, could also have something of the modern ruins of love in a world that is under the weight of rush and interests. Tis is the scenery of the interrupted career: tacky finishing materials counted in meters, porous headlining, a watch, car interior, outline of the human head along with the receding suggestion of a self-portrait. A half-deserted office building, a small room on the fifth floor, snarling fluorescent lamp. Here time has stopped working on anyone's advantage. There is only space left without any relationship with its outside, guarded during the day and night, secured for the future, imagined interest, perhaps some attempt to return to the previous form of romance with the world that exists in a distant suspension. Unfortunately, the arrow of time goes only one way. There are, therefore, only gestures that simulate contact, images of reaching and simultaneously withdrawing from the world to which there is no return. Each subsequent space created in this postponement is just a directed utopia.

— Marcin Czerkasow