Marcin Rusak—
Of Bouquets and Decay

(Flower Art) Preservation is a deeply human attempt to escape time as we most readily understand it: linear, forward-moving, irreversible. Rather than allowing nature to exist in its truest state, we cling to the familiar—to how things were before a page was turned in a life. Our minds linger in the past, searching for permanence in a world defined by impermanence.

Polish artist Marcin Rusak is no stranger to this tension of ephemerality. He sources discarded flowers to create works shaped not only by the intentional act of making, but also by the natural processes that continue long after a piece is complete, transforming the viewer into a conscious custodian of an inevitable process. In his studio, he experiments with natural materials, recycled metals, and industrial processes, allowing the choice of material to dictate the course of each work. Some pieces are made to endure, preserving beauty, while others are designed to decompose, returning once more to the cycle of nature.

Waste and Wonder
His studio at Swindo Palace, outside of Warsaw, functions both as a think tank for refined design and as a laboratory for scientific research, where experimentation leads to innovative biodegradable materials. Waste flowers are sourced from florists and growers and meticulously selected for each project based on sculptural quality, color, and symbolic significance. Rusak’s artistry is inspired less by external influences than by “time and memory.”

His engagement with flowers spans generations: his maternal grandfather was a self-made botanist and entrepreneur in the flower-growing business. Rusak’s blurred memory of his grandfather has him as “constantly busy, emotionally distant, and deeply absorbed in his work”—an intensity that reminds Rusak of his own practice. Almost like a scientist, his grandfather would crossbreed orchids at night, in tune with their life cycles, obsessively searching for new varieties. Rusak himself has a fondness for anthuriums. However, he is happiest when surrounded by an abundance of wildflowers in nature.

After graduating from the Design Academy Eindhoven in the Netherlands, Marcin Rusak received his MA in Product Design from London’s Royal College of Art. It was then that he rediscovered his heritage of working with flowers—sourcing materials from wholesale flower markets and, in the process, finding his medium.

As he explains: “When I first encountered the vast heaps of discarded flowers at the markets, my understanding of time, beauty, and material value fundamentally shifted. Preserving flowers was never about freezing them in a pristine state; it was about extending their presence just enough to make decay visible, tangible, and unavoidable.” To the multidisciplinary artist, flowers are a way of reframing broader social, economic, and symbolic questions—overconsumption, value, and emotion—all of which invite a reconsideration of our position within larger systems.

From Raw Material to Artwork
Through years of experimentation, the studio has developed various ways of processing fragile petals and leaves. The Flora material, based on flowers and resin, aims to preserve botanical matter in all its beauty. Each piece, composed like a painting, demands meticulous attention—from collecting and processing the flowers to finishing the resin by hand. In contrast, the Perma material is machine-cut to reveal the cross-sections of resin-encased flowers, resembling fossils embedded in stone. The Merging Metals collection employs a metal-spraying technique, applying bronze, brass, copper, zinc, and aluminum to three-dimensional canvases. These are just a few of the techniques developed at Swindo Palace.

When asked which element leads his creative process, the artist tells Maison Ë: “For me, it always begins with dialogue. It’s a continuous exchange—sometimes a clash—of ideas, processes, and experiments, both within my studio and with external collaborators: fellow creatives, scientists, curators, as well as private clients, interior architects, or collectors. “From there, the process often unfolds through sketches, hands-on material research, model-making, and digital rendering. No single element leads; it’s the friction between them that sets things in motion.”

Rusak’s in-depth engagement with impermanence has led him to the belief that design carries a responsibility to slow things down, to question systems of overproduction, and to engage more consciously with resources. For him, value lies not in monetary worth but in the emotional and cultural lives of objects.

One question Rusak continues to explore is how to work with impermanence without neutralizing it. When using organic materials, design often requires control and durability. It is the juxtaposition of these two forces that keeps Rusak’s work compelling on both a material and philosophical level. As he reflects: “I now see decay as an active collaborator in my work, introducing unpredictability and honesty. Even when cast in resin or bronze, the flowers continue to change, reminding us that nothing is ever truly static. Value, for me, lies not in resisting time, but in learning how to coexist with it.”