Sensibility reflected in the barren kings

In a room forever barren, pierced by the trills of the wooden bird resembling a violin newly awoken, the dawn is breaking and the day emerges with a new film.
It is the thin, black film, worshipped by the few people that have been chosen. I wouldn’t want to talk to you about its blackness, about the webs within us, woven by the darkness; I would rather let these photographs talk to you about its light and echoes.

Gicu Serban struggles to reach the light, the light that subtly unfolds upon the tiny surface, upon too small a section of a film.
The end comes the moment a wrinkled old man, enveloped in cigarette smoke, emerges slightly sarcastic and dry, just to become shortly after that resigned and empty. I think it is wonderful to watch children who magically struggle towards the light and appear in photographs, which are indefinitely colored by sadness, by its gray background. We can see what the eye sees every moment, when the light may go down, when subtleties may be known at sunrise.

Simona Dobre