I’ve always been interested in exploring space. Not the outer space of science fiction, but the inner spaces—domestic space, psychological space, and the ways they intersect. I’m fascinated by notions of home and belonging, domesticity and shelter, and the dynamics that reside within.
My work is inspired by memories of places I lived or visited when I was growing up in Romania—the sense of comfort and protection they offered, but also confinement, menace, and mystery waiting just out of reach. I like to combine the familiar and the strange, filling domestic spaces with alien objects, borrowing the forms of traditional dwellings and tools from different cultures and merging them in unexpected ways.
Playfulness and whimsy are important elements in my work. I take a curious and exploratory approach to the creative process, keeping myself open to new paths and discoveries. For me, playfulness is a universal language, which I use to form connections with different parts of myself, with the material I’m working with, and ultimately with the viewer as well.
There is also a kinetic element to these pieces, not depicting movement directly but showing its potential or aftermath, the way it’s implied by the relations between objects. This can be seen in my series of landscapes, which seem to depict crumbled civilizations, exposing the interaction between the land and built elements. The spaces thus created are opaque and ritualistic, reminiscent of ancient ruins and archaeological digs.
I started this work during the pandemic, and in a way I was using art as a refuge, my own place of comfort and shelter. It might strike some as strange that these peculiar and even disturbing forms would be my happy place, but for me it’s their odd resonances that give them protective power. A shelter must be shaped to suit the self.