What does it mean to be human today — or, more precisely, what does it mean to be an inhabitant of this earth?
Not merely as an individual, but as a being woven into the cycles of nature, history, technology, and memory. For me, lace is the universal expression of these intertwining elements: drawing, code, bodily imprint, and accumulated time.
Where are those thresholds at which a line still bends but does not break — those moments when technology can transform life without emptying it of meaning? The work titled *Bending Point / Breaking Point*, comprising video, audio, and text, articulates this tension: the fear of disintegration,
, the desire to belong somewhere, and the question of who bears the consequences of our interventions. Furthermore, it introduces the experience of reaching the limits of the body—a body subjected to pressure, filtering, transformation, and fragmentation. The concepts of “bending point” and “breaking point” form the conceptual axis of the exhibition, raising the question of where the line lies between transformation and irreversible rupture.
In the exhibition’s title, “Eve” refers to the original body and the biological narrative, which contemporary technologies reopen and reshape. Eve is portrayed not as an idealized myth, but as a vulnerable and ever-changing living system. Through lace, video, and engraved structures, the exhibition explores the transfer of natural patterns into synthetic biology and raises the question of where the line lies between transformation and irreversible rupture.
In the adjacent space, human silhouettes abstracted into lace-like patterns are visible on engraved plexiglass panels. Here, the body is reduced to a trace, a pattern, a data-like imprint. The human figure appears as a hybrid entity — assembled, recycled, and fragmented — like an Earthling who is increasingly distancing themselves from their origins.
My work does not oppose technology; it serves as a warning against forgetting. Just as Ariadne’s thread winds through the labyrinth of contemporary systems, I, too, strive to preserve traces of human vulnerability, doubt, and responsibility. If we stare too long into the depths of our own creations, the depths may stare back at us — transformed.
The exhibition does not offer definitive answers, but rather opens up a space that invites reflection: can the technological imitation of nature preserve vulnerability, imperfection, and ethical awareness — these qualities that are inseparable from human existence?
Eva Petrič