"FLAVA" GROUP EXHIBITION
During the university’s Summer Show, one of the visitors became interested in my sculpture and invited me to take part in a group exhibition that will take place from November 5th to 10th at Handbag Factory, London.
This invitation marks an important step in expanding my practice beyond the academic context, offering me the opportunity to participate in a professional show alongside artists with whom I had not previously collaborated.
For this exhibition, I will present the plaster version of EN ÕVUM, a piece that, although inert, retains in its form the memory of the living process that gave birth to it. Its presence in this show is not an act of resignation, but a conscious choice: I have learned that every material has its own way of communicating, and that even a “dead” work can still convey the energy of life.
The curatorial challenge of this exhibition lies in suspending the papier-mâché womb — a large-scale structure — and adapting it to a new spatial environment while preserving its material and symbolic integrity. Although this experience is yet to take place, it has already led me to rethink the complexity of curating outside the academic framework.
It involves engaging in dialogue with other artists, planning the installation in an independent space, and coordinating the technical logistics of assembly and safety.
But beyond the practical aspects, what I value most is the exercise of letting go of control — understanding that an exhibition is always a collective organism where artworks, artists, and space interact and redefine one another.
From the Stoic perspective that guides my practice, I approach this new stage with the awareness that the final outcome does not depend entirely on me.
As Epictetus reminds us, “It is not things themselves that disturb us, but our opinions about them.” Accepting the limits of what I can control — the care of my work, my disposition, my work ethic — frees me from the anxiety of results and allows me to experience the process with serenity.
Exhibiting the plaster version instead of the mycelium one is not a failure, but an expression of that serenity: a reminder that art, like life, does not always unfold under ideal conditions.
The piece thus becomes a symbol of resilience and learning — a testimony to the journey that began with a living material and now continues in a new context. In this sense, the exhibition at Handbag Factory will not only be a group show, but also an essay on how my practice can inhabit other spaces and adapt without losing its essence.
It is an opportunity to keep cultivating, with patience and presence, that Stoic virtue I have learned from the mycelium: to grow in silence, to sustain the process, and to trust in time.
