BORN IN WHAT was Czechoslovakia in 1990 just after the end of Communist rule in that country, Klara Hosnedlova graduated at the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague. She creates in many different ways, including photography, sculpture, furniture, embroidery, and site-specific installation. A collection of her work is on display at the Bermondsey branch of White Cube Gallery in south London until 29 March 2026.

One room of the gallery is occupied by tall sculpture made with knotted natural fibres. Its base is a collection of thick serpent-like fibre ropes that spread across the floor like the roots of a tree. Attached to this structure, there is something that resembles an enlarged seashell which contains an image that includes depictions of fingertips. This inclusion reminded me of the appearance of mitochondria when viewed with an electron microscope. Although I find it difficult to describe this artwork in words, what can be seen in the far larger gallery next door is almost indescribable.

 The larger of the two galleries containing Hosnedlova’s work is ‘mind-blowing’. Many of the artist’s sculptures and embroideries (which look like paintings) have been assembled to create an extraordinary immersive art installation. Both fantastic and exciting, it is at the same time the stuff of nightmares. The website of the White Cube described it as follows:

“The principal room of the gallery opens onto a central, metal platform flanked by looming metal walls, each mounted with prodigious sandstone sculptures upon which further embroidered images are embedded. Constructed from industrial and composite materials, the architectural implements of Hosnedlová’s installations often contain impressions of built environments. Intended to be walked and sat upon, the stepped, quadrangle platform is composed of metal grilles … While the platform recalls the openness of urban, public space – exposing, if not intimidating, sites cleared of natural shade or protection – the grille meanwhile refers to its function in the city as an interface between terrestrial and subterranean worlds. Strewn carelessly over the platform, like shed skins, are some abandoned articles of clothing …”

But even these words are inadequate to describe the scene that confronts the viewer. It must be seen to be believed. I asked gallery employee whether the huge installation was to be sold as a single whole item.  I was told that although the installation was created to provide a fascinating visual experience, the individual items that it contained were to be sold separately.

When we visited the large room of the exhibition, a South Asian security guard saw the expressions of amazement on our faces, smiled, and pointed out where to stand to get a good photograph of the whole installation. And after we had seen it, and were leaving the room, he smiled at us, and gave us the thumbs up. I returned this gesture of satisfaction.