On building worlds of your own

A curtain is a multifunctional element of interior ( and often exterior ). And if form follows function, this opens up so many possibilities for shapes that a curtain might take.

An accidental task I took while working in architecture office gave an impulse for curtains to become in the centre of my practice. I had to make curtains for one interior project, as there was no time and budget to hire somebody. I had so much pleasure in working with textiles, doing something physical and crafty in contrast with highly digitalised and intellectualised work in architecture.

I left the architecture field because of its heaviness: physical, political, in terms of environmental impact. Curtains express how I want to treat my surroundings. With softness, protecting, covering, highlighting, bringing newness and functionality without massive gestures.

On one side, I like to visit textile shops, touch, learn about random materials, notice and take samples of the ones that interest me. This collection stays in my books of samples and in my head. When a new project comes, it often happens that the material from that archive pops up in my head.

On the other hand, I have a professional deformity, with which I scan my surroundings, almost unconsciously, in terms of what can be used as a material for curtains.

I need to say that, over time, I am using natural materials more and more, as they align with my ideas of sustainability better.

These features seem to fit naturally with what I am doing. In my work, there is a reflection of how I perceive reality. My friend recently told me that I am weird. Not in a bad sense, but in the sense of being unusual. That surprised me, but also gave understanding, that I never think I am weird, because all I do seems absolutely logical to me. But people around me don’t have the same logic. Thus, some of my decisions seem weird to them. All that said, the qualities that my work has are intuitive and very natural for me.

I do think of the purpose of my work. In the grand scheme, it seems useless, fleeting, not bringing any help to society. From the other perspective, the result of my practice is something that brings lasting joy to the users and observers. This element of joy is very important for me. With the feeling that the world is pacing towards the abyss, moments of joy seem to me of even higher value.

I love the evolution of my work, and it fascinates me that such a mundane object allows me to go deeper and deeper within one theme. But I don’t know what comes next, and I am very curious to see what it is. That is why I keep going further.