The exhibition engages in a dialogue with two dominant tendencies of contemporary visual culture.
The first is the desensitization of image-making in the era of cancel culture and algorithmic cleansing of social media—where self-censorship and the softening of artistic expression become the price of popularity and acceptance.
The second is the ubiquitous availability of pornography—both softcore and hardcore—in the age of unrestricted internet access, which has led to the normalization and desensitization toward content once stigmatized or forbidden.
These two opposing impulses—excess and restriction—reveal the contradictions embedded in the very nature of contemporary visual culture and its social boundaries. With the rise of search algorithms and generative AI, even the most distant corners of imagination can now be visualized. On one hand, this marks a democratization of image creation; on the other, it undermines the power of the image itself—and the very value of truth. Reproduction, appropriation, and manipulation of images have become as natural and constant as breathing.
In this context, the question arises: what does it actually mean to “consume” images today? Is it merely a self-confirming loop of pre-formed beliefs? Or an endless search for new doses of endorphins? What happens when the rebellious spirit of the artist yields to the desire for likes?
The title of the exhibition—“Sensitive Content”—refers to the warning overlay used by Instagram’s algorithms on posts marked as “sensitive”: nudity, sexuality, violence, politics, or other topics deemed controversial. These motifs have been present in art history for centuries, yet in 2025, a palpable shift toward conservative values can be felt. If the internet once broke the dams of open access to information, demystified nudity, and granted the masses their own “fifteen minutes of fame”—then what, in fact, is at stake today?
The exhibition opens with an ambiguous selfie of the artist, taken after an intense sports massage session. The skin, covered with bruises, resembles a body marked by painful experience. In the hand—a phone, its lens directed outward; the camera’s eye becomes at once introspective and invasive. This photograph, serving as a manifesto, both invites and interrogates the viewer.
In the age of omnipresent cameras and social media, we are constantly recording and being recorded. We live in a reality that goes beyond the surveillance state—the camera becomes simultaneously a tool of self-defense, a weapon aimed at privacy, and a machine producing fame. It is a cruel world in which the visual impulse reigns over reason. In an instant, an anonymous audience can elevate you to a pedestal—only to destroy you the next moment, without cause.
As Warhol wrote: “If you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings and films and me, and there I am. There’s nothing behind it.”
This thought aptly captures the mood of contemporary social media consumption: short attention spans, a constant stream of stimuli and advertisements. We participate in a world of fragments—shallow, fleeting, and surface-level. We are endlessly judged by how we look—both offline and online.
It is a flattening of existence, where “looking good” matters more than “having good intentions.”
“Only shallow people do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.” — Oscar Wilde