A special carpet designed by Jakub Jezierski and woven by Małgorzata Pepłowska tells the story of the Warsaw’s newest, but nevertheless already legendary district of Wilanów.

The carpet's pattern follows the conventional design of similar fabrics – a rhythmic configuration of symbols forms a story, or an allegory of contemporary Warsaw and its society. These are indeed elements of local folklore: the banks and pharmacies that plague the modern districts of Warsaw, an excessively popular type of paving (the ‘Baum’ paving, whose omnipresence exceeds its actual functionality), dog excrements that mercilessly show up in the streets after the winter snow has melted. Jakub Jezierski is ruthlessly mocking the ailments of life in the capital of Poland, while at the same time creating a somewhat universal grotesque story about public space.

What gives away the specific location Jezierski concentrated on is its central element – the Temple of Divine Providence – a construction with a now over 200-year-long history of controversy. Initially planned out in 1791, as a votive church celebrating Poland’s Christian tradition and, more specifically, the passing of the national constitution, it has still not been completed, encouraging pumping of millions of złoty into a building in a generally secular area.

Once a royal residence, Wilanów is now an area inhabited by young middle class families. Despite the award-winning plans to develop this newest part of town into a lively and well-connected area, the district turned into a lifeless dormitory, dotted with banks, fences and CCTV cameras, instead of spaces inviting social interaction.

The designer Jakub Jezierski Pionty, invited Małgorzata Pepłowska, a weaver from the little village called Ruchna (near Węgrów), to collaborate on this project. The geometrized pattern of a double warped textile he once saw in an ethnographic museum teased his imagination, reminding him of lo-fi computer graphics.

We operate in a world of icons, symbols, which very smoothly link to the simplicity and primordiality of folk art.

Małgorzata Pepłowska learned how to weave in the late 70s. She first worked at the Cepelia (Folk Art and Folk Industry Centre) manufacturer, where she was made to work efficiently and with the simplest patterns possible. Later on, she managed to get hold of her own loom, and began to practise more complex designs at home. Ever since then, she has been working on illustrating the local life, architecture, and nature of the Podlasie region.

Jezierski was basing his design on authentic photographs documenting the architecture and events in Warsaw – the gobelin was then created in a mere two weeks.

At first, I felt overwhelmed by this theme, but I decided to take it as a challenge. Towards the end of the task, I was getting so tired – I was dreaming about all these godzillas. What was the most difficult part? A human figure in motion, running from the police, the explosions, the Mercedes was very demanding too. - Pepłowska confessed to gazeta.pl's editor Anna Sańczuk.

The tapestry was created on the occasion of the exhibition NASZ. Designed and Manufactured in Poland, curated by Tomek Rygalik as part of the Wanted Design showcase which took place in New York in May 2014.



Sources: gazeta.pl, own materials, ed. AM May 2014