Dorotea Dolinšek: No Body Is Autonomous
What remains of a person when removed from their familiar terrestrial environment? Air, temperature, food, microorganisms, waste — everything that usually seems natural and unnoticeable suddenly becomes a matter of survival in space. Dorotea Dolinšek was born in Kranj, Slovenia. She studied industrial design at the Secondary School of Design and Photography Ljubljana and then graduated in painting from the Academy of Fine Arts of Venice in the workshop of Gianluigi Bellucci. She later continued her studies in the Video, Animation, and New Media programme at the University of Ljubljana, Academy of Fine Arts and Design, where she studied with Sašo Sedlaček and Robert Černelč. Since 2020, the artist has been closely collaborating with the Kersnikova Institute and its Kapelica Gallery, one of Europe's leading centers for bioart and research-based artistic practice. The shift from painting to technological and biohybrid systems has been fundamental for her. As the artist herself says: ❝ The space suit, in my opinion, represents the ultimate detachment of the human habitat from nature.❞ Dolinšek does not use space as a spectacular futuristic backdrop and is far removed from the enthusiastic rhetoric of conquering Mars. For her, space is the ultimate experimental environment, in which the myth of an independent and autonomous human being breaks down. An astronaut may appear to survive capable of surviving in complete isolation, but in reality, their life depends on plants, bacteria, air purification and waste recycling systems, and constant technological support. This dependency defines the central idea of her entire practice. The human body here is presented not as a closed, independent unit, but as an ecosystem and habitat. Each of us is already a community of bacteria, fungi, viruses, and archaea, meaning that even beyond Earth, humans are never alone. Paradoxically, cosmic isolation in Dolinšek's work becomes a way to see the deep interconnectedness of life. The scope of her research consistently expands: from soil and nutrition to plants and respiration, from the internal ecology of the human body to the atmosphere as its extension, and then to the politics of using and sacrificing non-human life. Therefore, her projects are best understood not as individual works, but as parts of a single, evolving system. Each new work examines yet another condition of existence that technological futurism has become accustomed to taking for granted. Her art is simultaneously utterly rational and physically tangible. It features laboratory apparatus, sensors, scientific protocols, and functioning technological systems, but within these systems, blood, urine, hair, the microbiome, lack of air, endurance, and the fear of death are constantly present. Dolinšek's technologies are never sterile: they are literally filled with living bodies, their dependencies, and their waste. The artist is not interested in the heroic figure of the conqueror of the universe, but in the vulnerable body — breathing, secreting fluids, populated by microorganisms, and completely dependent on other life forms. But what if it is precisely this vulnerability, rather than strength, autonomy, and technological superiority, that proves to be the key to our future — both on Earth and beyond?
