On 29 October, British artist Lee Maelzer illuminated the walls of Sofia’s Cable Depot Gallery with her newest show, _Hayden_, a retrospective on human presence amid abandoned urban spaces. The exhibition, running until 21 November, was curated by Iavor Lubomirov and is funded through the Bulgarian Ministry of Culture’s 2025 Open Call for Visual Arts.
Maelzer, who earned her master’s degree in painting from the Royal College of Art, has spent more than fifteen years exploring the ghosts of city infrastructure. Her previous works depict empty staircases and ruined interiors, where the human figure is absent yet a faint trace of presence lingers. In _Hayden_, the artist turns that absence into a focus on the figure, using model Hayden Hughes to personify loneliness and social disparity that the abandoned spaces previously framed.
"Just as she is able to paint human presence in an empty room, she is able here to paint her own presence for us through the figure of Mr. Hughes," writes curator Lubomirov in the accompanying curatorial essay. The statement encapsulates the exhibition’s twin themes of absence and substitution, using Hughes as a stand‑in for an alleged missing populace within Bulgaria’s shifting urban fabric.
The presentation came under the aegis of the “In the Process of Translation – The Periphery at the Center” project by the Bulgarian Literature Foundation, which ran a call for visual artists funded by the Ministry of Culture. That Ministry has long invested in cultural ventures that interrogate nation‑building, noting the weight of identity reflected in public museums and galleries. With this backing, the exhibition underscores how civic funds can shape cultural narratives around social inequality.
Economic disparities surface subtly in the exhibition’s muted colour palette and cinematic framing, mirroring the miner‑level atmosphere of Sofia’s neglected subways. The galleries themselves have undergone a civic transformation, repurposed from an industrial focal point to a public space for artistic debate.
Although the show is positioned as a visual recital, the presence of the Ministry’s sponsorship opens a discussion on public accountability. Critics have pointed out that states fund art exhibitions to encourage civic engagement, but the extent of influence over curatorial choices remains debated. If funding shapes the artist’s narrative, questions emerge about representation of marginalized voices in national discourses.
Maelzer’s tenure at East London College, where she teaches fine art, further bridges her English background with her engagement in the Bulgarian cultural scene. According to the gallery’s description, her collaboration with Iavor Lubomirov began when he was a fledgling curator, suggesting that mentorship relationships can influence cultural policy narratives at a municipal level.
The installation’s then-new sets—an abandoned staircase peeling with graffiti, a dilapidated warehouse—functioned as a spatial commentary on social exclusion. In presents, viewers encounter a canvas that syncs with the realities of Sofia’s fractured neighborhoods where the underprivileged find diminishing public presence.
Political alignment around cultural investment is not far behind; the Ministry’s open call emphasizes “periphery” projects, presumably encouraging artists whose work foregrounds the city’s lesser‑known districts. This focus aligns with provincial policy to integrate cultural accessibility as a tool for civic inclusion.
Through her craft, Maelzer outlines a future where cityscapes re‑affirm humanity, and the exhibition, funded by a national ministry, remains a civic touchpoint for conversation about public multitudes and institutional responsibility.
