The tension between structure and chaos:

The work rests on a rigorous geometric architecture: two superimposed rectangles, one bright red, the other deep burgundy, evoke the Polish flag and its national two-tone design. This is not a subtle nod, but a deliberate foundation, a flattened topography of identity.

On this ordered surface, a black calligraphic line crosses the composition from left to right, like a severed branch, a gust of wind, or a wound. It does not skirt the geometry; it slashes through it.

Warsaw: A city of visible layers

Warsaw is a city entirely rebuilt on its ruins, a city literally razed and reinvented. The blood red and black of the work are not mere colors; they resonate with a history of violence and rebirth. A work at the crossroads of calligraphy and gestural abstraction:

The central gesture evokes both Far Eastern calligraphy and American abstract expressionism—a sign that seeks to signify something, yet refuses to be legible. Like a language heard but not understood, or a city whose past is perceived but cannot be named.

Autumn in Warsaw is thus a work about the superimposition of time: the cold beauty of a season drawing to a close, of a city that does not forget, conveyed by a gesture that traces without explaining.