11/07/2026
https://ujszo.com/kultura/a-hatar-amely-talan-nem-is-letezik-alison-safford-a-somorjai-at-home-galeriaban
Hálásan köszönjük Havran Katinak ezt a kivételesen érzékeny és mély írást a kiállításról. Szövege különleges pontossággal ragadja meg annak hangulatát és szellemiségét — olyan minőségben, amelyet bármelyik szaklap is megirigyelhetne
CIKKÜNK: https://ujszo.com/kultura/a-hatar-amely-talan-nem-is-letezik-alison-safford-a-somorjai-at-home-galeriaban
In English:
CULTURE
July 10, 2026, 09:05
The border that perhaps doesn't even exist: Alison Safford at the At Home Gallery in Somorja
Photos by the author
The exhibition *Murmur* is on view at the At Home Gallery in Somorja until August 16. In the background: the exhibiting artist, Alison Safford.
HAVRAN KATI
What makes a place the "other side"? Where do the boundaries we draw on maps lie, and where do those begin that cannot be marked by lines? Alison Safford’s new installation, on view at the At Home Gallery in Šamorín, starts with political borders but ultimately raises much broader questions, exploring how we connect to the visible and invisible worlds.
A young girl who grew up in the United States. A particular school lesson—during which her teacher told the class about the history of the Berlin Wall—was deeply etched in her memory. It was not the lesson itself that stayed with her, but the feeling: she simply could not grasp the point of a wall that separated people from one another. Having grown up in a country experienced as free and borderless, she found it inconceivable that a wall could split a city, a country, and lives in two.
A few decades have passed since then; the little girl has grown up and become a visual artist. Borders, too, have changed—both in a physical sense and in terms of their significance. The Berlin Wall fell, and the Iron Curtain—which once separated the Eastern Bloc from Western Europe—became permeable and eventually vanished physically; today, we draw those lines only on maps. Yet, in the country where she grew up, another border has taken on profound political significance: the one separating the United States from its southern neighbor.
Alison Safford no longer asks why walls exist, but rather how one can remain connected to the other side despite them. The Boston-based visual artist is exhibiting at the At Home Gallery in Somorja for the fourth time. She knows the region well, and—as is the case for many Americans—her own European family history holds great significance for her. Her ancestors crossed numerous borders before arriving in the United States: they started out in Lithuania and lived in Germany, France, Ireland, and England as well. She herself was born and raised in America.
Her latest exhibition, titled *Murmur*, explores the nature of boundaries—not merely how they separate us, but also how a connection with the other side can be maintained. Moreover,
the exhibition is not limited to geopolitical borders; their significance all but fades away as the artist opens up the gallery space toward intangible, higher realms of existence.
She achieves this through a spatial, audiovisual installation.
Although she states that evoking a childhood memory was not a conscious aim, the chairs and small tables arranged around the exhibition space inevitably call to mind a classroom. At the same time, the chairs invite the visitor to sit down, linger, and focus their attention on specific details of the installation. In a sense, then, the space truly transforms into a classroom: Alison Safford’s installation teaches—or rather, re-teaches—us to observe, to pay attention to things that otherwise often escape our notice.
These tables, however, are far from ordinary pieces of furniture. Some conceal videos, others audio recordings. They only come to life when the visitor pulls out the drawers located beneath the tabletop, each revealing something truly elemental.
Soil. Coal. A meteorite. The sound of the wind. A recording of the landscape taken on the Austrian–Slovak border—capturing the view from one country—followed by a similar recording from the other side, belonging to the neighboring nation.
What is the difference between the two recordings? Virtually—or rather, in reality—none at all. The same rolling wheat field stretches out on both sides.
"Who decides at what point an area counts as a different place? That’s what interested me, along with the consequences such a decision entails,"
explains Safford.
Through the childhood memories of Csaba—one half of the Kiss couple who founded the gallery—the artist drew closer to the border that defined this region for decades: the Iron Curtain. The handful of earth on display at the exhibition also comes from this border, from the former no-man's-land. It symbolizes just how artificial and absurd a decision it is to split a landscape in two. The sound of the wind, recorded along the border, evokes this same idea.
The coal and meteorite dust tucked away in the desk drawers point to a different kind of boundary: the invisible dividing line separating our familiar world from a reality that is larger than us and less easily grasped by reason. The meteorite arrives from the sky, while the coal originates from the depths of the earth; the two symbolize the realms of the "above" and the "below." Although no tangible boundary separates us from these layers, the artist is preoccupied precisely with how we might nevertheless connect with them.
The motif of coal is also linked to a personal family story. One of Alison Safford’s ancestors moved to Eastern Pennsylvania to work in a coal mine but lost his life in a mining accident—a story the artist knows from her mother.
"How do we connect to the intangible world?"
– asks Alison Safford, for whom the relationship between earthly reality and the transcendent forms a central theme of the exhibition.
If we descend underground, a mysterious world reveals itself to us. If we look up at the sky, equally unknown realms open up. The installation continues in the upstairs space, where a birch trunk awaits the visitor. Through a small window cut into the trunk, one can see video footage of the Moon. In many cultures, it was believed that the souls of the dead departed for the Moon—that is, for heaven—a realm beyond the full grasp of human understanding.
The sound composition filling the entire gallery also emanates from the birch trunk. Sound forms one of the most important layers of the installation: Juraj Turtev—known to many as a blues musician—also practices throat and overtone singing. He recorded the vocals that fill the gallery space at Alison Safford’s request, and the sound resonates within the space in an almost magical way.
"I think that every time I work here, I understand this space a little better. Csaba and Suzanne, of course, know it intimately. Working with them feels like collaborating with fellow artists," says Alison of the gallery owners.
Alison Safford’s exhibition is a lyrical, meditative work.
It invites the visitor to slow down for a moment and pay attention to phenomena we usually pass by unnoticed: a handful of earth, the sound of the wind, a meteorite, or even the Moon.
Moreover, the exhibition becomes complete through the presence of the visitors. The more people sit at the chairs and the more drawers are opened, the richer the soundscape of the space becomes. Thus, the exhibition does not merely present something; it creates connections—between people, objects, sounds, and stories.
Perhaps this is the most significant assertion of Alison Safford’s work: that the boundaries we take so much for granted often exist only on maps. Yet, the possibility of connection remains even when no wall, fence, or line is visible—and equally so when, elsewhere, walls are being erected based on political decisions to separate people. Meanwhile, the gallery itself becomes a space of mediation between the earthly and the transcendent worlds.
The exhibition *Murmur* is on view at the At Home Gallery in Somorja until August 16.
Mitől válik egy hely a „másik oldallá“? Hol húzódnak azok a határok, amelyeket térképekre rajzolunk, és hol kezdődnek azok, amelyeket már nem lehet vonalakkal kijelölni? Alison Safford új, a somorjai At Home Galériában látható installációja a politikai határok felől indul, ...
