Her Selected Works: Pusher, London

Gritli Faulhaber, Théa Giglio, Juliette Lena Hager, Georgina Hill, Adriana Lara, Marietta Mavrokordatou, Ryder Morey-Weale, Romane Prunières, Elliot Roberts, Hanna Rochereau, Andreas Schmid, Daniel Zeballos, Her Selected Works, 12 July – 6 September 2025, Pusher, London, UK

There’s something humbly radical about walking into an exhibition that openly claims to have no theme. No thesis, no curatorial frame imposed from above, no aspiration to coherence. Just a series of works arranged on storage racks, not hung paintings, not monumental installations, but objects housed like archival materials, waiting to be pulled out, examined, forgotten, or rediscovered. And yet, in this deliberate suspension, in the quiet care of a selection without declarations, a subtle order emerges: an alphabet of silent things.

Her Selected Works, the inaugural exhibition at the new Pusher gallery in London, is a curatorial gesture by Carlotta S. that seems to speak more about preservation than presentation. The racks, custom-built for the space, evoke the backstage of art, storage, the pause between moments of visibility. This isn’t a show to be followed like a narrative, but deciphered like a dictionary: word by word, piece by piece, in a non-linear but natural sequence, as if each work belonged to an invisible taxonomy.

The presence of twelve artists, from Adriana Lara to Romane Prunières, from Ryder Morey-Weale to Hanna Rochereau, doesn’t form a chorus but a multiplicity of voices that don’t strive for harmony. If connections exist, they’re not spelled out. There is no overt dialogue, but rather a coexistence: the possibility that something might emerge precisely from the chance juxtaposition of elements, like in a museum archive where meaning isn’t offered but waits to be sensed. Each work becomes a fragment awaiting a context, a relic out of time.

And yet, in their being together without needing to agree, the works generate a quiet reflection: on what it means to choose, to preserve, to assign value. The curatorial act doesn’t prescribe a reading, but suggests a posture, that of someone willing to look closely even at what doesn’t demand to be seen.

The display, bare but intentional, invites slowness. No guiding text, no label to decode. The space is quiet but not mute: you sense a tension between apparent order and latent chaos, between the potential for meaning and its refusal.

You leave Her Selected Works not with the feeling of having “understood” an exhibition, but with the awareness of having inhabited a temporary archive of possibilities. Like flipping through a dictionary in an unfamiliar language, sensing that every word could become a story. But not today. Not yet.