Ctrl + Shift + Del is a command to delete. But what if it became a command to reset? The exhibition explores this question through speculative video games that reclaim digital spaces as sites of care, memory, and resistance. Three artistic positions offer distinct responses to overlapping crises—occupation, imperialist violence, capitalism, overtourism, climate collapse—not by escaping them, but by reprogramming their structures.
Neurotopias are the seventh edition of Improper Walls’ initiative to participate in the Mental Health Awareness Month with an annual exhibition and accompanying public program that uses artistic means to encourage open discussion about often stigmatized topics, their deeper context and socio-political repercussions. After discussing treatment gap, stigma, sexuality, education and neurodiversity, community care, and housing instability, this year we invited artists via an open call to reflect on what a truly accessible society would look like, materially, socially, infrastructurally, asking: What kind of economic system could accommodate people with different abilities and take into account more-than-human needs? How can we offer each other care without pathologizing the issues or denying their existence? What would our surroundings—our homes and cities—look like if we create them from feminist, disabled, and neurodiverse perspectives?
Care, healing, resistance—the immediate eyeroll trigger for anyone positioned anywhere near the contemporary Western art world, myself very much included.
Everyday Resistance has become a commodity. Especially in the art and cultural world, it is worn like a costume—a look to buy, a set of slogans memorized and dropped into conversations and presentations for credibility.
I need and always needed spaces where I can be allowed to be soft, vulnerable, visible and open about myself and my appearance. So I also know how important the way of talking and choosing words is when it comes to describing haircuts, because they are so close-knit with identity.
We exchange the endless supply of hippo memes with friends. We know, for sure, this is a capital G girl, not because of her biological sex or her social gender, but rather due to her aesthetic function.
For over a decade, I have been assembling an archive—an attempt to reconstruct and unravel the fragmented traces of my family’s experience of the war in Guatemala. Though personal in its origins, the archive has revealed itself as situated within a wider, entangled topography of collective history.
Due to numerous cancellations and censorship, one becomes an expert on how to archive and tell a story, reclaiming one’s right to speak while protecting oneself from potential legal accusations because of the text itself. It is an art we, the cancelled, are forced to master.
The habitational crisis is felt throughout European cities. However, not only are homes at risk, but also places to practice sport. The commodification of exercise or the lack of public infrastructure investment makes it necessary to create places of resistance.
I don’t know how many times I have asked this question and every time I enunciate it, a fear sets in the upper side of my stomach, a consciousness of my bad pronunciation, the anxiety for how it will be perceived by the person on the other side of the conversation.
Being an independent artist and an educator is becoming increasingly difficult in Slovakia. We live in a time when society is closing itself off into ideological frameworks in which otherness, critical thinking, and autonomy are no longer welcome.
Can women ever allow themselves to be “lazy”? Here’s how a group of young women from Central and Eastern Europe are shedding light on gender stereotypes and challenging productivity culture.
Even within my own bubble of leftist or at least, left-leaning, folks, fully aware and considerate of the human and environmental costs of generative AI, the idea that there isn’t much we can do about the presence of this harmful tool none of us really asked for persists.
