In her famous essay written in 1978, Rosalind Krauss proclaims the grid one of the most important ur-forms of the twenty-century art. Now, almost half a century later, the grid is still with us, possibly more ubiquitous than ever. It has outlived the modernist art and successfully made it in the 21st century. As has been shown by Krauss, the visual, geometric grid of De Stijl or Sol LeWitt, had its parallel in the conceptual grids of 19th century optical treatises and later in the matrix-like structuralist deconstructions of myths and literary forms. The two grids, the visual and the conceptual, came to a kind of chemical wedding in the art of Bernd and Hilla Becher, finding its most ironic expression in their series dedicated to the traditional German framework houses. In my attempt to deconstruct the concept of the grid, I devised my series not as a typology of grids, but as a typology of "failed" grids, imperfect and convoluted grids, grids, denying their own bounds and confronted with their own materiality. Krauss described grids as rigid, denying the world outside, incapable of any development. Continuing her notion of grids as "schizophrenic", denying the (self) imposed bounds, I'm trying to find and picture self-deprecating grids. At the same time, it is a typology of grids, in an almost sinister sense. For many years, in spite of being aware of the role the grid played in 20th century art, and admiring the formal beauty of the works of the Dusseldorf school, I remained immune and wasn't particularly interested in that aesthetic. I found the formal possibilities interesting, but sticking to them for years... get me off this! Yet at some point, I suddenly got "the grid" like people get "the grippe", as a kind of virus of the mind. Simply speaking, I got obsessed with grid-like structures and started seeing them everywhere. I hope I'm healing now, but I felt the real risk of being trapped in the grid.