Vending Machine

19 03 – 17 04 2026

Countless wor­ks and exhi­bi­ti­ons have alre­ady soug­ht to dissol­ve the fine lines betwe­en aes­t­he­tic appe­al and art, spe­cu­la­ting on both, cri­ti­ci­sing one, posi­ti­oning them­sel­ves in a third spa­ce, appro­ac­hing the subject from ethi­cal or aes­t­he­tic, socio-cri­ti­cal or iro­nic per­s­pec­ti­ves. Every era deman­ds and arti­cu­la­tes new artis­tic the­mes, met­hods and soci­al inter­re­la­ti­ons, and this most recent (post-)postmodern age does so somewhat more tran­s­pa­ren­tly, or per­haps this is merely the impre­ssi­on ari­sing from our immer­si­on in it, whe­reby everyt­hing is expe­ri­en­ced more inten­sely, more den­sely, and more dramatically.

Bogdanić’s Vending Machine is the­re­fo­re neit­her the first nor cer­ta­inly the last attempt to expla­in the wor­ld from the per­s­pec­ti­ve of one’s own and the gene­ral artis­tic role and posi­ti­on, yet it rema­ins one of the most direct expre­ssi­ons of this ende­avo­ur in con­tem­po­rary Croatian art. It is an “ins­tal­la­ti­on” that appro­ac­hes the the­me both lite­ral­ly and with iro­nic dis­tan­ce, absur­dist and ethi­cal in its emp­ha­sis on con­tra­dic­ti­ons, whi­le simul­ta­ne­ous­ly blur­ring the­ir boun­da­ri­es and frameworks.

Essentially, this self-ser­vi­ce mac­hi­ne is a reflec­ti­on of modern and con­tem­po­rary soci­ety, its need for the quick and easy, for tec­h­no­lo­gi­cal advan­ce­ment and opti­mi­sa­ti­on, for effi­ci­en­cy and con­sump­ti­on, but also for a return to sim­pler times. By subver­si­vely appro­pri­ating this pro­to-robot cre­atu­re, the artist pre­sents her scul­p­tu­ral wor­ks as equ­al­ly hol­lowed-out con­tent, but with the aim of ope­ning a dialo­gue. A dialo­gue abo­ut time, abo­ut soci­ety, abo­ut artis­tic value, abo­ut apathy.

Modelling in clay, that cla­ssi­cal mate­ri­al, the artist pro­du­ces a seri­es of scul­p­tu­ral stu­di­es: tor­sos, han­ds, feet, ani­mals, acce­ssi­ble and fun­da­men­tal for­ms. By retur­ning to the­se for­ma­ti­ve begin­nin­gs, she recal­ls the tra­di­ti­on and impor­tan­ce of craf­t­sman­ship, yet in the very next step, thro­ugh 3D scan­ning and prin­ting, she tur­ns to new achi­eve­ments and met­hods. She does this con­s­ci­ous­ly, in order to sati­sfy insa­ti­able and unsus­ta­ina­ble appe­ti­tes, the pre­ssu­res for cons­tant acti­vity, pre­sen­ce, and inno­va­ti­on. These mul­ti­pli­ed, yet aut­hen­tic, scul­p­tu­res are simul­ta­ne­ous­ly an expre­ssi­on of the per­ma­nent divi­si­on felt by most artis­ts betwe­en the­ir job and the­ir voca­ti­on, betwe­en labo­ur and aut­hen­ti­city, betwe­en the soci­al­ly sig­ni­fi­cant and the per­so­nal­ly vital. Bogdanić hones­tly embra­ces this posi­ti­on, cre­ating wor­ks that demand skill, yet reflect the dri­ve for cons­tant pro­gress, opti­mi­sa­ti­on, and digitisation.

Vending Machine is thus an exag­ge­ra­ted, even absurd, attempt to recon­ci­le the irre­con­ci­la­ble, tho­se dic­ho­to­mi­es that per­haps do not even exist. Conflicts based on the eter­nal eit­her-or-prin­ci­ple. Either high art or art that sel­ls, eit­her a pro­per care­er or a meagre exis­ten­ce, eit­her the san­c­tity of the gal­lery or the shab­bi­ness of the shop, and ulti­ma­tely, eit­her con­for­mity or exclusion.

This repur­po­sed, or rat­her appro­pri­ated, self-ser­vi­ce mac­hi­ne pro­vo­kes both inte­rest and resis­tan­ce. An ordi­nary mac­hi­ne, a sym­bol of the fast-paced soci­ety of the spec­ta­cle, is now trying to ser­ve a work of art as a pro­duct, not as a pro­duct of the cre­ati­ve indus­tri­es, but as art as we have known it until now. Its pla­ce­ment wit­hin the solem­nity of the gal­lery thus more cle­ar­ly expo­ses the artis­t’s iro­nic stra­tegy; howe­ver, its fun­c­ti­on is not merely mimi­cry of fami­li­ar for­ms and a subver­si­on of con­su­me­rism, but is both of the­se and everyt­hing in betwe­en. These plas­tic objec­ts are as much scul­p­tu­res as they are pro­duc­ts; they rely equ­al­ly on manu­al labo­ur and auto­ma­ted pro­ce­sses; the mac­hi­ne itself is as much a scul­p­tu­re as it is an indus­tri­al appa­ra­tus; it is both a cri­tique and an accep­tan­ce of reality. It is a ques­ti­on that is answe­red indi­vi­du­al­ly and col­lec­ti­vely, mone­ta­rily and in ter­ms of value. It is not­hing more than its own essen­ce, and not­hing less than a con­ti­nu­ati­on of inter­twi­ned rela­ti­on­ships full of third opti­ons. All the­se con­nec­ti­ons, neural­gic points, and spa­ces in betwe­en are wor­th dis­cu­ssing, as well as reflec­ting on the bro­ader impli­ca­ti­ons of artis­tic prac­ti­ce that has always mir­ro­red the reality from which it emerges.

Mihaela Zajec

a: Jelena Bogdanić

Jelena Bogdanić (1998, Zagreb) gra­du­ated in 2022 from the Academy of Fine Arts in Zagreb, Department of Art Education, in the class of Assoc. Prof. Vlasta Žanić and co-men­tor Prof. Ines Krasić. She spent the fif­th semes­ter of her stu­di­es at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Belgrade in the class of Mileta Prodanović as part of the Erasmus+ pro­gram. Through objec­ts and ins­tal­la­ti­ons, she explo­res the mate­ri­ality, aes­t­he­tics, and poetics of sin­gle-use plas­tic, achi­eving its unpre­dic­ta­ble tran­sfor­ma­ti­ons thro­ugh mel­ting. She has exhi­bi­ted in seve­ral gro­up exhi­bi­ti­ons in Zagreb, Labin, and Dublin. In addi­ti­on to her artis­tic prac­ti­ce, Jelena has gained pro­fe­ssi­onal expe­ri­en­ce in the field of edu­ca­ti­on. From 2022 to 2023, she was employed at the Vrbani Primary School, whe­re she appli­ed her peda­go­gi­cal skil­ls and sha­red her passi­on for art.