Sheets of paper and fragments of cardboard. Scaled perforations and delicate cracks across wide surfaces. Pale and dark scraps of matter. Bluish tones and earthy reds outlining horizons, drifting freely in different directions. Traces of black forming unstable figures. Shapes that meet and overlap, composing quiet arrangements that fall into their own inner order.

In Daybreak, a new series by Natalia Załuska, her distinctive abstraction-based language remains unmistakable. Geometric forms continue to serve as key points of reference, engaging in a dialogue with abstract avant-garde traditions, evoking the rhythmic compositions of Maria Jarema, the sculptural-architectural investigations of Alina Ślesińska, and the works on paper or monument studies by Magdalena Więcek. In comparison to her earlier works, Załuska’s latest series invites us to consider subtle shifts in her approach. These pieces feel more nuanced, each emerging as an autonomous composition that suggests its own narrative. One might notice patches of dark colour lingering in the background or fading away, as though something were hiding just beneath the surface. Are they emerging from a different order, or perhaps even a different temporality?

Załuska refers to these works as ‘cutouts’ or even ‘modest colouring pages’. While they are not based on preparatory sketches, they could be interpreted as notations for spatial objects, much like her former series of works. What distinguishes this new series is its close relationship with light — as though the morning sun had quietly slipped into the studio. The subtle physical qualities of the materials, paired with gentle tonal shifts, evoke a connection to something bodily — as if referring not only to the artist who created the works, but also to the one the works themselves evoke. This draws attention not only to their formal qualities but also to the vulnerability they bring to the forefront.

The pieces were created in the months leading up to the exhibition. The artist often arrived at the studio before dawn, stepping into another rhythm — a kind of retreat, suspended between the sleeping city and the day ahead. Her movement through this liminal space — from apartment to street, from sunrise to studio — became a generative loop. The anticipation itself became a source of momentum, fuelling the process. Załuska’s attention to the shifting sunlight began the moment she left her home for the studio, as the rising sun gently emerged from behind the horizon. Its light cast reflections on facades, gradually drawing broader, brighter streaks across the building surfaces before finally shining through the windowpanes — as if following the artist, who, in turn, began to follow it back.

The earliest phase of Daybreak unfolded in stillness. Załuska spent several weeks watching how morning light moved through her apartment. She documented these transient encounters with quick photos on phone or camera — notations more than references — that became a quiet prelude to the work. Once in the studio, a different kind of focus emerged. Załuska set out to translate the performative play of shadow and colour — not only from her home, but from the solitary walks and drives to her workspace. She gradually defined her own parameters or vocabulary — shape, geometry, and the subtlety of dawn’s veiled light. The works were eventually given titles such as 5 a.m., 6 a.m., Early Morning, as well as Midday 1, Midday 2, and Afternoon — each defining a different moment spent in the studio.

While the exploration of space is a recurring concern for artists who wish to move beyond the constraints of two-dimensional formats, in Załuska’s practice it appears especially pronounced. Her abstraction-based language extends beyond visual grammar, striving to express the intangible: emotions and experiences that emerge in moments of private revelation. Daybreak invites viewers into a contemplative space where the ineffable — the blurred scripts of perception and thought — take shape through the non-representational.