The title 20 MG ok refers to an effective dosage of medication. "Ok" carries an ambivalent meaning: on the one hand, it expresses the relief that comes after long searches and experiments, when a correct dosage is determined. On the other hand, "ok" suggests becoming accustomed to the routine of taking the right dosage, which satisfies an immediate need but also forces one to accept stagnation. Although routine brings a sense of security, it soon starts to govern one’s life according to its own rules, demanding repetitive actions. The monotony of the routinised acts and the traces they leave behind become, for Niesterowicz, the starting point for experiments that combine intuitive actions within the chosen medium of the works, along with reflection on the prevailing reality.
Anna Niesterowicz’s creative process incorporates the technique of collage with the use of gel plates, which allow for collage impressions to be made on paper. Drawing on the tradition of monotype, developed in Poland by artists such as Maria Jarema, Niesterowicz introduces chance as a key element of her work. The collages that she constructs from various materials are pressed onto a gel plate, leaving their outline through successive layers of paint that are applied to the plate and that shape the final image, which emerges after being printed onto paper. This process is characterised by repetition, while remaining open to unforeseen effects. The sequence of actions required to achieve the final result, along with the pauses between each stage of making the monotype, allows for unexpected changes, in which the artist spontaneously transforms the image.
Relating to the theory of the Open Form by Oskar and Zofia Hansen (1958), which views architecture, and more broadly, art, as a communicative medium, Niesterowicz, in her work, abandons planning in favour of improvisation. In this way, the first gesture that she makes becomes the starting point for a sequence, in which the final form remains open until the completion of the process. In the spirit of the didactic exercises of Grzegorz Kowalski, a former assistant to Oskar Hansen, in whose studio Niesterowicz studied at the Faculty of Sculpture at the Academy of Fine Arts in Warsaw, the artist directs her attention to the value of the process itself. In her monotypes, the element of chance permeates the entire creative process. At each stage, the artist affirms "Ok" as a metonym for the potential of new directions. This process reflects the structure of a dialogue, in which meaning is not a predetermined goal but arises from the act of exchange itself: every gesture, received by one participant, simultaneously encounters a response that modifies it. Ripping, arranging, painting, and kneading the plate become a dialogue between the artist and the material.
In her works, Niesterowicz also uses medication blister packs, which serve as traces of the daily routine of administering medication — unrecyclable waste that, after use, ends up in mixed garbage. Niesterowicz re-pops the blister packs, like she re-impresses the gel plates, to create the monotypes and sculptural assemblage, which form the title of her exhibition. The used medication packs evoke the work of Damien Hirst, whose reconstructed pills, cabinets, and pharmacies comment on the aesthetic allure of contemporary pharmaceutical packaging and the subliminal promise — conveyed through visual means — that medicine can cure all ailments. Hirst, by separating the aesthetic features of the packaging from its contents, giving greater autonomy to those features, illustrates the hope that people place in medicine, and in so doing, aims to inspire the same hope in art itself. In contrast to the abstraction of Hirst’s work, Niesterowicz employs the remnants of daily medication consumption in the spirit of "art brut." The used, unaestheticized, empty blister packs function as the material for new works. They become carriers of her personal narrative: "I don't have time for more," the artist seems to say — limiting herself to the means directly available to her.
According to Niesterowicz, the recurring figures in the monotypes represent authoritarian silhouettes of generals, whose postures express power and control, yet simultaneously reveal their potential fragility. Opposite the generals stand inward-looking giants. The dynamic compositions, referred to by the artist as "notes from PTSD," explore themes of introspection, power, and social tensions. The depicted dance and struggle symbolise the constant battle with a "state of un-health."
The dynamics of these figures recall an earlier work by the artist, HH (2002), a video showing young girls performing gestures drawn from hip-hop culture. Niesterowicz, by extracting these movements from their original context and stripping them of their sound layer, transforms them into a bodily code — a choreographic lexicon. In this way, she creates a form of non-verbal communication, composed of new expressions carrying associations that extend beyond existing words.
Although the artist's works are deeply personal, they never shy away from critical reflection on broader social issues. In her diploma work, Darkness and mold (2000), supervised by Kowalski, Niesterowicz created a two-channel video that serves as an asynchronous, virtual dialogue. On one screen, we see the artist's uncle her godfather and an alcoholic — delivering a monologue about his life on the social margins. Simultaneously, on the second screen, Niesterowicz asks him questions about his activities in satisfying his everyday needs. The artist creates a post-factum dialogue; she introduces herself as an active participant, reclaiming the sense of agency she lost during the initial interaction. She weaves her uncle’s story and her responses into the fabric of the artistic object, overcoming the sense of embarrassment associated with his social status, and allowing the private narrative to become part of a broader discussion. Only in an authentic, free dialogue, without aiming toward any preconceived goal, can new ways of understanding and perceiving what we encounter be opened, even with the most stigmatised issues.
(Text by Miriam Sadowska)