Embassy
Embassy exhibition view photo by Dominika JarugaAbout
Kat Zavada deliberately confronts her perspective with Srinivasan's vision.This clash allows us to ask uncomfortable questions: Who is this new politics for? Is political granularization—the breakdown into smaller and smaller highly specialized communities—the answer to contemporary problems, or does it exacerbate them? What if this digital monarchist experiment, created partially as a critique, turns out to... work?
(excerpt from curatorial text – full version below)
Kat Zavada, Fivefingers Sabaton, stainless steel, resin, metal wire, 25 × 10 × 18 cm, 2025Online publication
︎SOVRA.ZONE
Credits:
Original commissioned music (video): Ernest Borowski
AR development implementation: Ernest Borowski
Metal elements / fabrication (Five Fingers Sabaton): Ola Nenko
Coin molding: Sebulec
Passport layout / graphic design: Kacper Dreń
Table drapery: @audycja.patrycja
Implemented as part of a scholarship awarded by the Minister of Culture and National Heritage (Poland).
Embassy
Embassy transforms the gallery space into a temporal diplomatic outpost of a fictional, neo-monarchist political entity – Sovra. The project is a critical study of contemporary fantasies about alternative forms of social organization,inspired by the idea of a network state—a digitally born state as described by Balaji Srinivasan, an entrepreneur and theorist from Silicon Valley, in which online communities construct their own decentralized institutions (based, among other things, on blockchain), consolidate capital and coordination in the cloud, and subsequently pursue real agency in the physical world, e.g. by acquiring territory and seeking diplomatic recognition.
The artist engages in a thought experiment: what would happen if we applied literally these techno-utopian concepts? The inspiration for the project came from a real-life event: a luxury ball organized by Polymarket (a blockchain-based betting platform) during the 2024 election night in New York City. At this party, the new tech elite celebrated in an aristocratic setting, turning politics into a spectacle and an opportunity for financial speculation.
The project deliberately combines the language of startup futurism with the aesthetics of the late aristocracy, reflecting the paradoxical popularity of neo-reactionary ideas in technological circles. Neo-reactionism is an intellectual movement that questions liberal democracy and advocates a return to more hierarchical forms of power—often using the latest technologies.
The idea of building a state from the ground up is hardly new. It has once been the domain of anarchistic experiments and self-governing temporary zones, such as the historical example of the “Drzymała's Wagon,” a Polish symbol of resistance that has become a mobile enclave beyond the control of the occupying forces. Today, it attracts those who, disappointed with the traditional model of the state, are looking for a high-tech reset of politics.
Kat Zavada deliberately confronts her perspective with Srinivasan's vision.This clash allows us to ask uncomfortable questions: Who is this new politics for? Is political granularization—the breakdown into smaller and smaller highly specialized communities—the answer to contemporary problems, or does it exacerbate them? What if this digital monarchist experiment, created partially as a critique, turns out to... work?
The Embassy does not offer simple answers. It is a political laboratory,a space for testing ideas that go beyond common sense, where the virtual intertwines with the physical to create new forms of political imagination.
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Kat Zavada, Banquet: e-girls feasting on CEOs’ money, cotton satin, stainless steel, candles, popcorn, 400 × 100 × 82 cm, 2025
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Kat Zavada, SOVRA Emblem (Sun & Swords), stainless steel, 100 × 100 cm, 4 mm, 2025
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Embassy, Installation view, 2025, photo by Dominika Jaruga
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Kat Zavada, Video, single-channel video, 4:19, 2025
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Kat Zavada, Sovra’s Flag, cotton satin, stainless steel, 112 × 70 cm, 2025
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Kat Zavada, Ambassador’s Passport, paper, 12.5 × 8.8 cm, 2025
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Kat Zavada, One Sovran (1 SVR), precious metals alloy, tin, cast, 3 cm (diam.), 2025
“Embassy” sets a familiar scene—e-girls feasting on techbros’ money. CEOs. Self-proclaimed philosophers. The central object of the exhibition is an installation: a richly draped banquet table. Here you can meet a random guy telling you about his innovative startup (food and fungi)—because “our soil is poisoned and children have autism,” he says with Adderall certainty. Or a die-hard SF fan who spins the wildest visions of hyperstition. Champagne bowls filled with popcorn remind you that even boys who got drunk on the dream of power and fell in love with the aesthetics of late aristocracy will still be boys. Portfolios change, cryptofolios refill, but certain tastes remain unchanged.
Only then does the room reveal its name: Embassy transforms the gallery space into a temporary diplomatic outpost of a political entity called SOVRA. Through objects, installations, and video, the story of SOVRA unfolds somewhere between speculation and hyperstition—between unstable geopolitics and the Balkan sun.
SOVRA is a sovereign-corporate neomonarchy: a country operating as a private company. Anti-flat by design—no consensus theater, only execution: a CEO-Delegate with final authority, a board above it, legitimacy measured in outcomes. Its doctrine is state-engineering: cameralism 2.0, where governance, economy, and engineering collapse into one stack—optimized under the rule “growth at all costs.” SOVRA runs as an overlay on existing states: zones of political + energy R&D—a testing playground for feral ideas that praise the sun and fusion.
Though this is a banquet for a very digital monarchy, state symbols don’t stay abstract. Even here, they insist on their weight—proud, physical, heavy. A flag in two shades of red. An emblem: a stylized sun with sharp rays, one side tapering into a form that recalls a cross and a sword. A solar crown—a source of energy and a signal of power at once. The swords evoke the violence inscribed in every state, even the most “innovative” one. There is no statehood without the potential use of force—only better or worse designed responsibility.
In SOVRA, technologies of governing are inseparably connected with technologies of management and value. The backbone of the state is its cryptocurrency—SOVRANS—presented here in physical form: one SVR, cast from precious metal and tin. Someone might say it has no value. But just as it’s satisfying to hold Bitcoin as an object, you can also hold SOVRAN in your hand.
SOVRA is a nomadic home for hardcore dreamers. It’s a polygon for far-fetched ideas—barefoot ideologies. One object makes this concrete: a high heel in the aesthetics of feudal futurism. A hybrid of barefoot FiveFingers cast in red resin and segmented metal knight armor. It captures the spirit of SOVRA; in a seductive arch, it convinces you the future will have a lil bit of a feudal feel.
The passport is simultaneously a document and a prop. On the one hand, it pretends to be a real travel document. On the other, it reminds us that the nation-state is not a law of nature: a modern construction, consolidated in the 19th century and scaled—sometimes violently—across the 20th.
A video runs in the background of this strange banquet. Does democracy work? Yes or no—we see it on a red background, and I’m sure that for the guests gathered here it’s a rhetorical question. The drifting narration about finding pleasure in speed tempts me. These are fantasies I don’t admit to my friends: what if this darkly seductive vision of hierarchy could actually work?
Kat Zavada, Video, single-channel video, 4:19, 2025
The artist engages in a thought experiment: what would happen if we applied literally these techno-utopian concepts? The inspiration for the project came from a real-life event: a luxury ball organized by Polymarket (a blockchain-based betting platform) during the 2024 election night in New York City. At this party, the new tech elite celebrated in an aristocratic setting, turning politics into a spectacle and an opportunity for financial speculation.
The project deliberately combines the language of startup futurism with the aesthetics of the late aristocracy, reflecting the paradoxical popularity of neo-reactionary ideas in technological circles. Neo-reactionism is an intellectual movement that questions liberal democracy and advocates a return to more hierarchical forms of power—often using the latest technologies.
The idea of building a state from the ground up is hardly new. It has once been the domain of anarchistic experiments and self-governing temporary zones, such as the historical example of the “Drzymała's Wagon,” a Polish symbol of resistance that has become a mobile enclave beyond the control of the occupying forces. Today, it attracts those who, disappointed with the traditional model of the state, are looking for a high-tech reset of politics.
Kat Zavada deliberately confronts her perspective with Srinivasan's vision.This clash allows us to ask uncomfortable questions: Who is this new politics for? Is political granularization—the breakdown into smaller and smaller highly specialized communities—the answer to contemporary problems, or does it exacerbate them? What if this digital monarchist experiment, created partially as a critique, turns out to... work?
The Embassy does not offer simple answers. It is a political laboratory,a space for testing ideas that go beyond common sense, where the virtual intertwines with the physical to create new forms of political imagination.
Kat Zavada, Banquet: e-girls feasting on CEOs’ money, cotton satin, stainless steel, candles, popcorn, 400 × 100 × 82 cm, 2025
Kat Zavada, SOVRA Emblem (Sun & Swords), stainless steel, 100 × 100 cm, 4 mm, 2025
Embassy, Installation view, 2025, photo by Dominika Jaruga
Kat Zavada, Video, single-channel video, 4:19, 2025
Kat Zavada, Sovra’s Flag, cotton satin, stainless steel, 112 × 70 cm, 2025
Kat Zavada, Ambassador’s Passport, paper, 12.5 × 8.8 cm, 2025
Kat Zavada, One Sovran (1 SVR), precious metals alloy, tin, cast, 3 cm (diam.), 2025“Embassy” sets a familiar scene—e-girls feasting on techbros’ money. CEOs. Self-proclaimed philosophers. The central object of the exhibition is an installation: a richly draped banquet table. Here you can meet a random guy telling you about his innovative startup (food and fungi)—because “our soil is poisoned and children have autism,” he says with Adderall certainty. Or a die-hard SF fan who spins the wildest visions of hyperstition. Champagne bowls filled with popcorn remind you that even boys who got drunk on the dream of power and fell in love with the aesthetics of late aristocracy will still be boys. Portfolios change, cryptofolios refill, but certain tastes remain unchanged.
Only then does the room reveal its name: Embassy transforms the gallery space into a temporary diplomatic outpost of a political entity called SOVRA. Through objects, installations, and video, the story of SOVRA unfolds somewhere between speculation and hyperstition—between unstable geopolitics and the Balkan sun.
SOVRA is a sovereign-corporate neomonarchy: a country operating as a private company. Anti-flat by design—no consensus theater, only execution: a CEO-Delegate with final authority, a board above it, legitimacy measured in outcomes. Its doctrine is state-engineering: cameralism 2.0, where governance, economy, and engineering collapse into one stack—optimized under the rule “growth at all costs.” SOVRA runs as an overlay on existing states: zones of political + energy R&D—a testing playground for feral ideas that praise the sun and fusion.
Though this is a banquet for a very digital monarchy, state symbols don’t stay abstract. Even here, they insist on their weight—proud, physical, heavy. A flag in two shades of red. An emblem: a stylized sun with sharp rays, one side tapering into a form that recalls a cross and a sword. A solar crown—a source of energy and a signal of power at once. The swords evoke the violence inscribed in every state, even the most “innovative” one. There is no statehood without the potential use of force—only better or worse designed responsibility.
In SOVRA, technologies of governing are inseparably connected with technologies of management and value. The backbone of the state is its cryptocurrency—SOVRANS—presented here in physical form: one SVR, cast from precious metal and tin. Someone might say it has no value. But just as it’s satisfying to hold Bitcoin as an object, you can also hold SOVRAN in your hand.
SOVRA is a nomadic home for hardcore dreamers. It’s a polygon for far-fetched ideas—barefoot ideologies. One object makes this concrete: a high heel in the aesthetics of feudal futurism. A hybrid of barefoot FiveFingers cast in red resin and segmented metal knight armor. It captures the spirit of SOVRA; in a seductive arch, it convinces you the future will have a lil bit of a feudal feel.
The passport is simultaneously a document and a prop. On the one hand, it pretends to be a real travel document. On the other, it reminds us that the nation-state is not a law of nature: a modern construction, consolidated in the 19th century and scaled—sometimes violently—across the 20th.
A video runs in the background of this strange banquet. Does democracy work? Yes or no—we see it on a red background, and I’m sure that for the guests gathered here it’s a rhetorical question. The drifting narration about finding pleasure in speed tempts me. These are fantasies I don’t admit to my friends: what if this darkly seductive vision of hierarchy could actually work?
Kat Zavada, Video, single-channel video, 4:19, 2025