Shelters, Covers, Slits
It’s Somewhere Further Away. Don’t Worry. Now Closer, Even Closer
Introduction
For many city dwellers, the underground remains a mysterious, largely uncharted realm hidden beneath the urban fabric. In the face of contemporary crises – wars, conflicts and the accelerating climate catastrophe – civil shelters, as one form of this subterranean domain, are once again entering public discourse. Questions arise concerning the urgency of their construction or reconstruction, as well as their position within our collective visions of survival. Moreover, civil shelters serve as spaces reflecting the experience of societies living under persistent threat, striving to secure a sense of safety for generations*.
The exhibition SHELTERS, COVERS, SLITS. It’s Somewhere Further Away. Don’t Worry. Now Closer, Even Closer engages with these issues through the lens of the Wrocław housing estate Plac Grunwaldzki, colloquially known as Grunwald. The etymology of this name, which can be literally translated as “green forest”**, evokes the primordial strategy of looking for refuge “among trees”, shared by many species. Over time, however, humans have begun to construct their shelters differently, believing that concrete and steel will shield inhabitants not only from nature but also from one another.
By juxtaposing the symbolism of the forest with the network of urban civil defence shelters, the exhibition highlights a long-standing paradox: although survival strategies continuously evolve, the transformation of cities into environments that offer genuine security remains unfinished. This forward-looking reflection inspires poetic meditations that unfold alongside the curatorial narrative.
Shelters that still stand are the silent, abandoned reminders of our past, of what we have done, of how we treated one another and how we belittled the worth of human life.
No wonder no one wants to look in their direction.
We don’t take care of those shelters, hoping we will never need them, hoping we will never hear the sirens guiding us back to their doors.
Is it still Peace, if bombs fall from your neighbour’s sky?
And is there such a thing as someone else’s sky?
What does it mean to survive?
The exhibition asks whether, and by what means, we might cultivate a shared and thoughtful approach to preparedness. In this context, the dispersed yet still existing infrastructure of Wrocław’s shelters constitutes a crucial point of reference. It is within tenement houses, public institutions, parks, and basements, as well as beneath squares and courtyards, that conversations should unfold concerning the state of those spaces designated to safeguard human life.
If you have to, where do you go, where do you run?
When you seek refuge, and there’s a room with four walls, air vent and food supply, is it enough?
Where is the shelter, if everything you once leaned on is breaking apart?
Wasn’t the city you chose to live in supposed to be your shelter?
For many residents of the district, similar questions may have accompanied their daily lives, as evidenced by excerpts from recollections of the Grunwald shelters recorded during the project Plac Grunwaldzki – nieopowiedziana historia [Plac Grunwaldzki – The Untold Story]***. In the past, during the Third Reich period, Wrocław functioned as a key military centre. Toward the end of the war, it was declared Festung Breslau (Fortress Wrocław). During the Second World War, in anticipation of a Soviet offensive, sophisticated defence structures were erected, including an extensive network of civilian shelters. The Cold War, with its climate of persistent uncertainty and global tension, reinforced the need for further protective measures. The authorities of the Polish People’s Republic continued to develop and modernise these shelters, some of which came to be designated as “protective hiding places”, highlighting the fact that they were not just wartime relics. They became woven into the everyday fabric of both residential and public spaces, although, paradoxically, many have long since been repurposed.
Today, in the face of escalating geopolitical instability, it is worth asking whether we have truly learnt the lessons of history, particularly regarding the maintenance, refurbishment and reconstruction of shelter infrastructure. Once conceived as symbols of readiness and guarantors of protection, they become, for three days they become sites of open confrontation with the status quo and vehicles for the artistic commentary of Yuriy Biley.
Meanwhile, the eponymous oscillation between distance and proximity structures the rhythm of the exhibition: between the individual and the collective, between personal experience and global narratives, between vulnerability and resilience.
Beneath the Surface
The central focus of the exhibition lies in the artistic interventions of Yuriy Biley, a Ukrainian artist living in Wrocław. Biley presents his works in a civil defence shelter located in the basement of the tenement house where he lives, in an air-raid slit trench situated on the grounds of the Medical University, and along the Stanisław Wyspiański waterfront, where remnants of the former shelter infrastructure still exist.
The exhibition’s title, Shelters, Covers, Slits. It Is Far Away. No Fear. But Now Closer, Still Closer, draws inspiration from a poem by Antoni Słonimski. This well-known phrase encapsulates psychological mechanisms of repression, the domestication of fear, and efforts to preserve composure when confronted with uncertainty. The poetic title simultaneously functions as a reflection on threats that appear remote or abstract until they suddenly breach the boundaries of personal safety.
I
In the first location – a shelter situated beneath the tenement house where he lives – Biley proposes the transformation of these rooms into a functional hiding place capable of sustaining occupants for at least 72 hours. His artistic project combines technical specifications with social aspects and the ethos of resource sharing. The entire process of reclaiming and preparing the shelter was preceded by months of visual research conducted by the artist together with co-author Piotr Blajerski, as well as interviews with experts. The outcomes are documented in the experimental film Shelter Renewal, presented within the exhibition. The artists employ a diverse range of techniques to guide the viewer through shifting filmic eras, using unconventional perspectives on the shelter, and addressing questions or questions or speculations that arise amid the shifts disseminated by the media. The individuals featured in the film share expert insights while freely imagining possible future scenarios in a manner reminiscent of docu-fiction. This mode of presentation highlights the current condition of shelters in Poland which, according to official plans, are only now being adapted to the purpose they could have been fulfilling for a long time. With their film, the artists inquire whether history is indeed cyclical, whether it can truly conclude, and what endings are actually approaching. The eponymous Polish word odnowa (‘renewal’) simultaneously indicates renovation and conveys a sad acknowledgement of history’s recurring patterns.
The element of repetition in the exhibition is further highlighted by the display of archival instructions for the use of shelters, slits and hiding places issued by the Inspectorate of Universal Self-Defence, while the artist’s arrangement of essential and carefully labelled items of furniture, food and water forms an integral part of the project. The deliberate act of improving the technical state of the former shelter is both a conceptual gesture and a testament to Biley’s self-organisation – as an active tenant of the building and an artist engaged in genuinely committed practice.
II
Two works situated near the tenement house serve as a commentary on this stance. Along the Stanisław Wyspiański waterfront, among the filled-in air-raid slit trenches, sculptures from the series The Value of These Words Also Depends on You update propaganda “roadside poetry” by translating it into the vocabulary of contemporary social tensions and ongoing critical debates concerning the state of defence infrastructure. Drawing on Władysław Hasior’s Notatnik fotograficzny (‘Photo notebook’), the works extend beyond the photographic medium to become tangible sculptural forms. The slogans that appear in public spaces refer both to self-mobilisation and to critical reflection on whether we are actually on the right path in the context of political, community, and civilisational decisions. Biley has ‘updated’ the slogans documented by Hasior, swapping individual words and modernising them in line with the dynamics of the current public debate. Biley’s works reveal the resilience of propaganda language and its disturbing relevance. They emphasise the value of the language used in public space.
Within the park, the artist has also implemented a subtle intervention on the walls of the buried shelters, recreating the fluorescent lines that once guided people through darkness toward safety. This intervention SAFETY SIGNALING SHOULD CATCH THE EYE reinforces the questioning of the validity of decisions.
III
The exhibition is not limited to the artist’s new works but also incorporates his earlier projects that illuminate his motivations, inspirations and way of thinking. The local context remains particularly significant. As the artist resides in this neighbourhood and observes it daily, his works enter into a deeply personal dialogue with a place to which he feels closely connected. In the slit trench on the grounds of the Medical University, a photograph is displayed that documents an intervention carried out in Berlin – the second city where Biley lives and works. In late autumn 2022, during this intervention, the artist conspicuously struck out the word nicht, forming the unequivocal declaration Das ist unser Krieg “This is our war”. This slogan has been gaining relevance since 2022 in the face of Russian aggression, and the timeline is extended by a film made during the Biruchiy Borowiec 2025 artist residency. The film 2125, presented in a several-metre-long air-raid shelter corridor, is a vision of travelling to the 80th anniversary of the end of World War III in Europe. The main characters of the film are Czesława Filipiak and Józef Filipiak, a married couple from Andrzejewo in Poland, who share their childhood memories from the war period. The perverse treatment of war experiences is based on provocative staging. The work FREEDOM FOR ALL — The value of these words also depends on you uses archival photographs by Rolf Goetze from 1955–1968 from the Stadtmuseum Berlin collection, documenting the most important events and demonstrations in West Berlin. In this series of works, the artist takes up the theme of Berlin’s history, translating it into the current situation in Ukraine, emphasising the continuation of Soviet imperial policy as seen through the prism of Western European history after the Second World War. Biley uses the context of Goetze’s works to refer to contemporary political divisions that are the cause of current conflicts in Europe. In his photographs, the artist darkens the surroundings of the structures with slogans written in powdered charcoal, changing the composition of the work and bringing out the content that is most important to him, which, when taken out of its historical context, shows its relevance today. The slogans from the past, which are part of the series of works, as the artist emphasises, are values that Ukraine is fighting for today.
In his work MY WORDS COULD BE MISINTERPRETED AS FITTING INTO THE POLISH GOVERNMENT’S NARRATIVE (2021), the artist addresses the issue of self-censorship and fear present in the public sphere. Biley talks about a society that is afraid to even talk about its own fear. He talks about the narrative of security presented to us by public debate. In the face of this powerlessness, Yuriy Biley’s works indicate that the narrative of shelters, hiding places and crevices is not just a conversation about physical survival. It is also a reflection on freedom of speech, opposition and the strategic building of the future.
Artist: Yuriy Biley
Curators: Paulina Brelińska-Garsztka, Brigita Bareikytė, Ana Gabelaia, Linda Krumina
Coordinators: Jutrzenka Duchnowska, Karolina Jaworska
Production: Małgorzata Sobolewska
Promotion: Kuba Żary, Kuba Tokarski, Agnė Tuskevičiūtė, Hanna Mokijewska, Weronika Fudała
Expert collaboration: Aleksandra Podlejska, Stanisław Kolouszek, Wojciech Lebiedziński
Project manager: Virginija Vitkienė
Graphic design: Grupa Projektor
*Examples of underground utopias and projects include the RÉSO system in Montreal, which connects metro stations with offices, hotels, and museums; and in Helsinki, a coherent urban plan has for years been in place beneath the city, encompassing railway stations and sports facilities. In Berlin and Beijing, experiences of war and geopolitical tension led to the creation of extensive networks of shelters, built during the Second World War and in the 1970s respectively. The Cold War gave rise to visions of megaprojects, such as Alan Boutwell and Mike Mitchell’s 1969 concept for an underground corridor-shelter from New York to San Francisco, and Oscar Newman’s futuristic project for an underground Manhattan. In Switzerland, a system of small shelters has been developed since the 1960s; these must be constructed as part of all new developments, including residential ones.
**Por. Marian Biskup, Pod Grunwaldem czy Grünfeldem? (O nazwie miejsca bitwy z 1410 roku), „Kwartalnik Historyczny”, nr 3 (1991), s. 99–102.
***ttps://ladnehistorie.pl/plac-grunwaldzki-nieopowiedziana-historia/