Silicon Glitch arises somewhere between a world that strives to be perfectly programmed and that which cannot be programmed.

By hand, by material, by chance, by intuition, or simply by time. Things we don’t have complete control over and that can go wrong—and precisely because of that, turn out differently than we expected.

A glitch is an error in the system, a brief deviation from the expected course. Something gets stuck, shifts, or stops working as it should. The exhibition treats this moment as a space where room is opened up for experimentation and deviation from what we already know.

Each artist approaches this differently. Fashion designer Šárka Zejdová combines experimentation, upcycling, and DIY principles with personal experience and family memory. Her current collection, dedicated to her father, also explores how we create our own images and theories of the world when we begin to question the systems around us.

Petra Gupta Valentová has long divided her time between New York, the Czech Republic, and India. She works with blueprinting and textiles, which in her work shift between image, object, and happening. Here, traditional techniques naturally intersect with personal relationships, events, and the experience of living across multiple cultural contexts.

Lenka Glisníková explores what happens to a photographic image when it takes on a physical form. She translates fragments of image data into material and allows them to interact with the surrounding space. She thus introduces the question of how an image transforms during the transition between technology and matter into the exhibition’s theme. 

For Martina Pondělíčka / The Cup of Patience, time is fundamental. He deliberately chooses slow processes, repetitive gestures, embroidery, and working with textiles. For him, time becomes an almost physical material—something that can be stretched, layered, or preserved.

Jiří Bartoš, on the other hand, looks upward. He paints the sky, clouds, and the ever-changing events unfolding above us, connecting classical painterly language and Baroque imagery with the present. Anna Rusínová works at the intersection of jewelry, objects, clothing, and the body. Sára Nedbálková uses glass, mirrors, and glass pedestals, playing on their ability to reflect, multiply, or alter what we see.

Technology and craftsmanship are not two opposing worlds here. They can intersect, borrow from one another, but also get in each other’s way. Nor does a traditional material automatically mean a traditional result. Tomáš Roubal works with metal, one of the oldest man-made materials, but he translates it into a contemporary sculptural language and also uses it to create his own alter ego.

Silicon Glitch is therefore neither a nostalgic return to a pre-technological era nor a rejection of artificial intelligence. Rather, it reminds us of something that is easily forgotten in an environment of ever-more-perfect tools: error is important to the creative process. Not everything has to be predictable, and not everything needs to take the shortest path to a result.

Today, algorithms can offer us, with remarkable accuracy, what we might want to see, hear, or create. Perhaps that is why it is important not to lose the willingness to do something that does not fit into this logic. A glitch here is not a failure, but a crack through which intuition, doubt, and the courage to choose an uncertain path find room—a moment when humanity carries more weight than the certainty of the result.