The artists are the only ones who still revolt and call the civilization’s diseases to the judgment of truth. The artist pleads fot the rise ofe the curtain that lays on the nights of the soul in order to reveal the potential light that dwells in each of us. He rebels against hypocrisy and lies, against appearances presented as essence, against a generalized pharisaism. Probably, he is a reliably moralist throught his ideas and redeemed throught the gesture of assuming the burden to utter uncomfortable truths for those who promise us fictional paradises of happiness. Meanwhile, people are bord and die, some of them forgotten in their own oneness. The artist’s stylistic props appeals to the wxpressionist suggestion of existence, to the failling meetings with his inner self. The generic man is crossed by anguish and anxiety and his face is contorted under the pressure of emotional deformations.
Valentin Ciuca, art critic
