Referring to notions of idealised nature and machine-made futures, but also the nostalgia of hand-worked pasts, Hosnedlová’s research encompasses photography, archival studies and work with craftspeople, revitalising traditional modes of production. From the lofty heights of White Cube’s 9x9x9 gallery, natural light falls upon Untitled (from the series Embrace) (2025), a landmark installation featuring an enormous, ragged tapestry with loose tendrils created from raw, unprocessed hemp. Variegated shades of moulting browns, rusts and coppers combine in its tufted and fibrous form, in which a large, sandstone frame is nestled. Suggesting a bone fragment from an archaeological dig, the carved frame, with its ribbed relief, enshrines a photorealistic embroidery, whose refined threads contrast with the unruly, textured mass. Depicting fingers holding a single, lit match, the embroidery is at once a reference to fire as an early technology and symbol of illumination – one that alludes to the brevity of human life amidst vast leaps of time. Opposite, another embroidery hangs, a complement that appears both instructive and full of portent. Instead featuring a lone, textile fibre lit at one end, the artwork conveys a moment of suspended consequence, suggesting as it does the destructive potential of fire, a threat to the adjoining mass.

The same way an echo is a repeating motif carried across a distance, Hosnedlová’s new exhibitions are always indebted to previous ones. Eschewing mere repetition, the artist’s practice re-combines ideas and installation elements into newly transformed configurations adapted to each site. Central to her practice is a specific working methodology that enfolds the deposits of time. Staging private performances within her elaborate scenographies, Hosnedlová carefully documents the movements of a small troupe taking their first, tentative steps in an alien world. Directing them to perform simple actions, Hosnedlová values the natural hesitancy of the untrained performers exploring the conditions of their environment: ‘This kind of non-knowing is, for me, the most interesting.’ Composing the scene and choreography functions for her in much the same way as a preparatory sketch might do for a painter – the images these performances yield become part of a repository, from which the artist selects, crops and translates into embroidery. While these embroidered images offer a partial record of a recent past, the performances, in turn, imbue Hosnedlová’s installations with faint traces of human presence: footsteps taken through drifts of leaves, the marks of fingers gouging raw clay.

The principal room of the gallery opens onto a central, metal platform flanked by looming metal walls, each mounted with prodigious sandstone sculptures upon which further embroidered images are embedded. Constructed from industrial and composite materials, the architectural implements of Hosnedlová’s installations often contain impressions of built environments. Intended to be walked and sat upon, the stepped, quadrangle platform is composed of metal grilles, the form of which finds an echo in the artist’s embroidered work of the dental jewellery Grillz (2025). While the platform recalls the openness of urban, public space – exposing, if not intimidating, sites cleared of natural shade or protection – the grille meanwhile refers to its function in the city as an interface between terrestrial and subterranean worlds. Strewn carelessly over the platform, like shed skins, are some abandoned articles of clothing; issuing from a series of costumes created in collaboration with Emily Fuhrmann, these discarded remnants are clues to the performers’ passage through the space. In the platform’s centre sit tumescent, amorphous forms, their surfaces swaddled in a mycelium substrate impregnated with Reishi mushrooms. By engaging an uncontrollable biological process as a medium, the artist considers living matter as durational performance.

Around and across the platform stainless steel poles have been positioned, each affixed with a steel-framed embroidery. Though the artist was first drawn to hand-embroidering for an immersive, processual quality that allowed her to escape ‘calculating time’, the result is inexorably its own temporal measure, one marked strand by strand. Speaking to this, Writing on the Back I and Lost Message (both 2025) depict hands engaged in acts of mark-making; in one, a ‘lost message’ is written with a piece of charcoal, while in another charcoal dust and grease are directly applied with fingertips. Works such as these posit another early technology, that of drawing as a mnemonic aid and system of historical record, while elsewhere, the abstract Shared Fire (2025) extends these ideas to that of a collective inheritance of the future. At the perimeters of the installation, the immense, wall-mounted reliefs stand guard. Tinted with stone and mineral dust, these sculptures reminisce mottled relics or bodily remains, their unsettling biomorphic alterity conjuring the fossilised fragments of a large, unidentified creature. All around, a glitching sound composition created with Billy Bultheel rings out and into the space, further immersing visitors in Hosnedlová’s archaeo-futuristic vision of this alternative world. Combining recordings of metallic scrapes and groans, as well as patches of white noise and garbled vocals – some of which stutters the phrase ‘body of knowledge’ – the auditory piece collapses and layers time, then spatialises it.

Through Hosnedlová’s detailed creation of a total environment, the multitudinous quality of time is brought to bear in the artist’s unique thinking, process and register. In ‘Echo’, time resists both linearity and any single static definition; the artist’s work contends that time is a malleable material, one that may be compressed, stored, retrieved and played back. Even as it works to reconstitute personal, historical and recent pasts, ‘Echo’ is not only an exhibition but an instance that already anticipates the next – seeding a refrain for the as-yet-unknown future.