Magdalena Karpińska — Music for a Panic Attack
About the event
~for English scroll down~
Magdalena Karpińska
~ Muzyka na atak paniki ~
Polana Institute
ul. St. Noakowskiego 16/35, 4. klatka, 4. piętro windą.
Wernisaż: 21 lutego, sobota: godz. 16:00-20:00.
Wystawa czynna do 28 marca, od wtorku do piątku w godz. 16:00-19:00, w soboty od 12:00 do 19:00.
One of the inspirations for Magdalena Karpińska’s latest painting series is tarantism as a cultural and therapeutic phenomenon from southern Italy, mostly Apulia, whose origins we find in the Middle Ages. Around the harvest season, in close relation to nature, Italian peasants — mainly women — attributed a range of ailments to a tarantula bite, for which the only cure was a ritual dance, a kind of musical-choreographic exorcism. In reality the bite was imagined and the symptoms psychosomatic; the women suffered from depression. The dance had a therapeutic character and constituted catharsis for the wounded soul. The artist does not paint the dance itself but sneaks in its attributes, such as a body of water in which dancers washed their faces, a mirror, and the number 4, referring to the musicians — the tarantella was traditionally performed by four musicians. For Magdalena Karpińska the healing dance is replaced by the process of painting; in it the artist seeks a return to harmony of soul and body.
Perhaps all the paintings are portraits of the same person. The man, suffering in silence, allows himself solitary night walks and melancholy by the fire. The woman tends to new life like a plant; she is in a constant state of struggle, dominated by the needs of a changing body, and her emotions remain inaccessible. Both carry in memory the same view that determines their sadness, becomes the culprit of temporary trauma and enforced isolation. The still life 'Music for a Panic Attack' carries the weight of mourning dedicated to a close person: the woman playing the harp is accompanied by mourners, and the motionless, silk-light curtains evoke the iconography of a shroud.
The rift and refusal to accept the difficult reality experienced by the protagonists reach a culmination in the last painting of the cycle, 'The Only Way Is Through'. A pregnant woman, posed like the biblical Eve, reaches not for an apple but for a tarantula. She has no choice — to become a mother she must brutally push trauma aside; she can do it sooner through the purifying ritual of tarantism or later with the help of biology.
The very personal, painfully honest character of the series is reflected in its form. Nature in Karpińska’s paintings does not grow spontaneously: every element — petal, leaf — is painted with great precision, reminiscent of Japanese prints. The artist observes germination, growth and decay as if their short life were to bring answers to other unspoken questions. This planned control over every centimeter of the canvas awakens both anxiety and fascination; it is a record of trance, a diary of closed emotions.
Magdalena Karpińska, 'Pojął z przerażeniem, że u kresu wszechrzeczy jest jedynie ciało, kły i pazury', 2025; egg tempera and oil on canvas, 200 x 165 cm.
~EN~
Magdalena Karpińska — Music for a Panic Attack
Polana Institute
ul. St. Noakowskiego 16/35.
Opening: February 21st, Saturday, 4:00–8:00 pm.
Exhibition open until March 28. Visiting hours: Tuesday–Friday 4:00–7:00 pm, Saturdays 12:00–7:00 pm.
One of the inspirations for Magdalena Karpińska’s latest painting series is tarantism, a cultural and therapeutic phenomenon documented in rural southern Italy, particularly Apulia, since the Middle Ages. Closely linked to the agricultural calendar and the harvest season, tarantism was associated with the belief, held mainly by rural women, that the effects of a tarantula bite could be cured only through a ritual dance accompanied by music — a kind of choreographed exorcism. The bite itself was usually imagined and the symptoms psychosomatic, likely reflecting psychological distress or depression. The dance functioned as a socially sanctioned therapeutic practice, offering catharsis and temporary relief from inner suffering. Karpińska does not depict the dance directly; instead she introduces attributes associated with the ritual, such as a body of water used by dancers to wash their faces, a mirror, and the number four, referring to the traditional ensemble of musicians accompanying the tarantella. In her work, the healing function of the dance is transposed onto the act of painting, understood as a process through which balance and harmony between body and mind may be restored.
Perhaps all the paintings are portraits of a single person. The man, suffering in silence, allows himself solitary nighttime walks and moments of melancholy by the fire. The woman tends to a new life as if it were a plant; she lives in a state of struggle, overwhelmed by the demands of a changing body while her emotions remain inaccessible. Despite differences, both figures share the same inner image that shapes their sadness and gives rise to trauma and unwanted isolation. The still life 'Music for a Panic Attack' carries the weight of mourning for a close person: the woman playing the harp is accompanied by weeping figures, and the still, softly illuminated silk curtains recall the iconography of the shroud.
The inner conflict and refusal to accept a difficult reality experienced by the protagonists ultimately end in the final painting of the cycle, 'The Only Way Is Through'. A pregnant woman, posed like the biblical Eve, reaches not for an apple but for a tarantula. She has no choice: to become a mother she must violently push trauma aside — sooner through the purifying ritual of tarantism, or later with the help of biology.
The deeply personal and painfully honest character of the series is reflected in its formal qualities. Nature in Karpińska’s paintings does not grow spontaneously; every element — each petal and leaf — is rendered with meticulous precision, reminiscent of Japanese woodblock prints. The artist observes germination, growth, and decay as if their brief existence were meant to answer other unspoken questions. This controlled mastery over every centimeter of the canvas is at once unsettling and compelling; it resembles a record of a trance, a visual diary of repressed emotions.
Magdalena Karpińska, 'And with horror he understood that at the end of everything only the physical remained, only the teeth and the nails', 2025; egg tempera and oil on canvas, 200 x 165 cm.
