The power of art — as opposed to propaganda — lies, among other things, in its ability to unsettle our habitual ways of perceiving reality and to reveal doubts. It is precisely within the field of contemporary art that meanings important to the community are negotiated. When looking at an artwork, it is worth asking questions both about its message and the means employed, as well as about the sources from which its formal solutions derive. By interpreting and provoking reality, artists expose the dominant discourses of visual politics.

Does war change art? Yes, just as it changes human life. Most existing problems intensify, and new ones arise.

The exhibition title This Cat Was Painted During the War only appears to be a simple statement. First of all, this is not a cat (“ceci n’est pas une pipe” — “this is not a pipe”), although it evokes associations with the dopamine-driven pleasure of looking at pictures on the internet. The sentence was spoken by the artist Kateryna Libkind, emphasising that war provides an inescapable frame for every situation.

Secondly, the verb “painted” plays with the widespread belief that art is created by drawing, painting or, alternatively, sculpting. Meanwhile, the exhibition presents works created using other strategies.

Thirdly, we are confronted with a fundamental question about the direction of our own actions in times of total crisis. Is there still room for critical reflection during wartime?

Thus, the exhibition addresses art created in the face of war. Issues related to the long-lasting imagery of the Second World War and the war in the former Yugoslavia return, and above all the war closest to us in time and geography — the war against Ukraine, whose struggle for freedom and life we support. It is from the experience of this war that our exhibition grows.