Fragments, Reconstruction, and Space
Fragments entered my work long before I began making art.
During my engineering studies and later while working as a mechanical designer, I learned to understand complex forms by breaking them apart. To draw the developed surface of an object—whether a machine component, a curved structure, or a building element—I had to imagine its surfaces unfolded and laid flat. I measured forms, separated them into planes, and then reconstructed them. A shape became understandable through fragmentation.
What fascinated me was not only the object itself, but the transformation. A flat surface could be bent, twisted, folded, or assembled into something entirely different. Space was no longer fixed. It could be interpreted from multiple viewpoints and reorganized into new relationships.
Years later, I recognized that the same way of seeing had entered my artwork.
In New York City New Bauhaus, architectural photographs become raw material for reconstruction. Buildings dissolve into geometric planes, shifting perspectives, and intersecting structures. The work explores how we perceive, remember, and reimagine space.
Reconstruction also carries personal meaning.
After leaving Romania and building a life in the United States, I experienced my own process of fragmentation and reassembly. Familiar structures—cultural, personal, and professional—were broken apart and reorganized into something new.
The fragments in my work are therefore both spatial and emotional. They reflect a way of understanding architecture, memory, and identity as forms that are constantly being reconstructed.
