Traces of women artists from the Wrocław Group can be found everywhere: in institutional collections (more often in storage than on display), in private collections, and occasionally at auction houses; in art publications, though usually within collective works rather than dedicated monographs (though these do exist too); and in a wealth of archival photographs scattered across institutions and private archives. Alongside this, many fragmented stories exist, but few cohesive and comprehensive narratives. There are many “white spots” that often make it impossible to trace the artistic history of Wrocław’s women artists in a linear or thorough way.

The idea behind the discussion I led at the Art Transparent Foundation, held as part of the project White Spots Exist Until We See Them, was to reflect on what we – as audiences, viewers, art lovers, or professionals – can do for the women artists, the great absentees of Wrocław’s art scene.* Although the conversation centered on creators associated with the Wrocław Group – including Janina Żemojtel (1931–2004), Krzesława Maliszewska (1927–2018), Anna Szpakowska-Kujawska (b. 1931), and Wanda Gołkowska (1925–2013) – they also represent many other, often lesser-known or entirely forgotten, artists.

My guests were Ewa Pluta, Ewa Folta, and Alina Drapella-Hermansdorfer, each representing a different professional field. Ewa Pluta works at the Wrocław City Museum and specializes in the biographies of postwar women artists from Wrocław, offering an institutional perspective. Ewa Folta is an art enthusiast, collector, and expert on the auction market. Alina Drapella-Hermansdorfer works in landscape architecture and the design of public space, and she is co-owner of an important art collection featuring works by many notable Wrocław artists. A key part of her professional practice involves integrating contemporary art into public space.

This selection of guests enabled a three-pronged conversation. Together with the audience, we were able to explore the fields of cultural institutions, the auction and collecting market, and public space. This allowed us to better understand the scope of the problem of the incomplete presence of Wrocław’s women artists in public consciousness. My intention was to move beyond the (crucial but often niche) institutional sphere, outside of which many art-related studies never venture. Even though museums, universities, and research institutions are often where things begin, we must not stop there.

The commercial art market, offering a tangible indicator of interest in a particular artist or artistic current, remains an enigma to those in institutional circles – a “terra incognita” that operates on vaguely defined, sometimes mysterious rules. In Poland, we have very limited access to information about private collections, which makes it difficult to gather data on the state and location of many artists’ works.

Meanwhile, in a country plagued by “monument mania” – a pathological overproduction of monuments for various occasions – the representation of Polish women artists (or women in general) in public space is negligible. If one were to reconstruct Polish history solely through monuments and plaques, women’s stories would be almost entirely absent. Unfortunately, this mirrors the state of art history.

Access to knowledge and the artistic legacy of Wrocław’s women artists is unclear and often puzzling. Among the artists discussed, Wanda Gołkowska is arguably the most well-documented. Her work continues to be of interest to researchers, institutions, collectors, and other artists, with substantive cooperation between these groups: sharing information, documentation, and even artworks. It’s worth noting that borrowing works from private collections is often easier than from public institutions, which operate with lengthy lead times and strict requirements.

In Gołkowska’s case – uniquely – the popularization of her art was significantly aided by her husband, Jan Chwałczyk, who documented her work and managed her archive after her death. More often, it was women – frequently artists themselves – who took on the role of archivists for their husbands’ legacies (hence, we have more source material for male artists). Moreover, Gołkowska’s long academic career at the Wrocław State School of Fine Arts helped ensure that at least part of her output was documented and preserved.

The second artist with considerable recognition is Anna Szpakowska-Kujawska. Over the last decade, growing institutional and collector interest in her work has led to solo exhibitions, group shows, publications, and even a documentary film. She herself contributed to this visibility by actively archiving and sharing information about her work – mainly online, which is quite rare among artists of her generation.

Unfortunately, these are among the few well-documented stories in Wrocław’s feminist art history. Much more remains unknown. One such “white spot” is the work of Janina Żemojtel, virtually forgotten after her death. The exhibition organized at the Art Transparent Foundation (presented alongside works by Karolina Freino) was her first in many years. There is very little scholarly material, and almost no digital presence, meaning that uncovering her legacy requires monumental research efforts. It’s nearly impossible for the average art enthusiast to access her work. And she is not alone.

Meanwhile, a parallel search is being conducted by collectors, hungry for Wrocław’s art history. They follow auction listings and reach out via private channels to those who might own works.

This dual, fragmented – and often uncoordinated – activity by institutions and private collectors points to the need for a more symbiotic relationship between these spheres, involving collaboration through publishing, loans, and joint dialogue.

One less obvious but vital audience is the so-called “accidental viewer”: people who don’t visit galleries or museums, don’t buy contemporary art, and don’t read art theory – yet still encounter it in the urban landscape. As Alina Drapella-Hermansdorfer noted during the discussion, commemorating women artists through naming streets, unveiling plaques and monuments, or creating public artworks such as sculptures or murals, can be powerful. First, this brings knowledge of these artists out of the institutional niche and into the public sphere. Second, it allows feminist art history to be written in the most publicly accessible way.

The outcome of our meeting was an initial diagnosis of the areas that need to be simultaneously addressed in order to fill the white spots in Wrocław’s feminist and broader art history. This task will continue to demand immense energy, commitment, and – perhaps most challenging – interdisciplinary collaboration. But the first step has already been taken!

*The foundation continues its research into women artists of the Wrocław Group, now focusing on the “second generation.” A key figure from the first generation and one of the founders of the postwar art scene in Wrocław was Hanna Krzetuska (1903–1999), whose life and work were the subject of recent exhibitions, events, and publications. The time has now come for the next generations.