Kabakov, who provided the quote for the title of this post, is a conceptual artist. Kabakov makes art which feels like you are at the scene of an accident, but after it has happened. Something moved but it no longer does.
I am speculating here, but this feels like a metaphor for the decay of the Soviet Union which Kabakov escaped from. After a while those who are paying attention can probably tell something is off. This likely occurred in the USSR and is the reason why you hear of more migrants than those who stayed. As something deteriorates, it becomes parasitic on those who stay involved. A small group benefitted deeply; the oligarchs, but the rest rusted as the country crumbled under the pressures of designer clothing. Who is responsible? Is it wrong to search for a better life? Should you be beholden if you grant the curse of freedom on your people and they don't know what to do with it?
We are nearing the end of Passover. This is historically a holiday where Jews exiled themselves in search of a better life and didn't have enough time to fully bake bread. Whether you believe the rest of story, it's fair to say that there was probably an out-migration at one point in time. I'm not particularly religious, but I felt it right to celebrate this year. This year I made a personal migration. Thankfully I didn't face the same adversity detailed in the story, but searching for a better life is timeless. The stories are, I believe, mostly there as metaphors. Some of them are possibly hyperbole, but to be fair we did have a literal plague.