Collaborative Collages by Irina and Silviu Székely


[ the said thematizes any interrupted dialogue ]

[ Sir Thematized Burden ]

Dear Sir,

Your flamboyant ways of expression, regardless the nature of the visual support they are referring to, are always a source of misconduct and joyful alienation. Bearing in mind that words stand as they are for another words which cannot stand for themselves just yet, we deeply appreciate the irresponsible strategies that your skilful hands are unleashing over the belligerent surroundings, never too necessary.

Please give yourself a warm regard.
[With liquefied compliments, I&S]

[ geometrical paradoxes are the soaked extension of language ]


[ sometimes she tries to imagine a tiny little tiger like an eraser, roaming the galleries of the ant-farm ]

They never understood how exactly the muscles contracted with such intensity, as if it was somehow cruel and almost fatal for the toes to contort in this unexpected manner. Eyes wide open, staring at the disoriented ant approaching her wrist, she realised that her only hope was to imagine herself landing on soft grass, ignoring the density of the chair and the menacing saddles hanging just behind her, awaiting a scandalous repossession of the land surrounding the farm. The flexibility of her own thoughts being at risk and assuming that no external forces were applied, the centre of gravity started to oscillate in such a disturbing way that the ant’s roar could be heard even beyond the threshold, where the window sill encountered the dichotomy posed by the outside light. As a last resort, the eccentric muscle contraction could have been diminished had she followed the compulsory routine generated by transitional events.

[ savoring the sleep in a plan of fatal retreat ]

[ the opaque element of difference ]

Split in two or more pieces of absence, the body of difference was walking silently towards the insidious longness of rootless objects, chairs included. Hanging from above her headless waist, the opaque tissue of indifference emanates the odour of incongruent protuberances, hair excluded. What follows is a simple, meaningless intention of advancing towards the shadowed corner of the door’s eye, losing the indiscreet comb beneath the delicate reminiscence of the floor once forgotten.

[ a monologue spoken as rapidly as possible without any intervention ]

At the exact moment when the factory chimney was spurting clouds of grey noise up in the sky, the finger of speech started to erect itself towards the ruined temple of a ubiquitous monologue. The intervention of the other finger became imminent, as the figure of speech rapidly decreased the intensity of the upper noise. Gathered around the widely-opened cavity described by the neck-less necktie, the tips of the fingers realised the gravity without which the watch couldn’t point out the coincidence of the chimney’s mouth with the need to watch loudly expressed by the artificial eye of the temple.


[ the roll of a big bass drum and her thoughts scattered in million flights ]

Artists Statement

Born in a communist country – by the nonsense of a grotesque power, we – to understand if there is a – to express and to live the – of freedom. After several – we decided to – and to experiment various – ideas in an attempt to define – as what we may call nomadic substances trespassing the limits of being. As if this wasn’t enough, we pushed our insatiable appetite for reasoning towards exploring parallel ways of narrating the dialectical relation between space, power and freedom: we arrived at that point in which collating pieces of space and mirroring interiors against an exterior that never happens could become the most effective visual attempt of disseminating the complete broken screen of a thought without object. This is why we were nominated by the Honourable Minister of Delicate Instruments as the chief surgeons responsible for all the incisions and decisions regarding the spiritual amputation of our beloved patients. However, the precision of our Reversible map remains to be confirmed only because sooner or later we might lose the simulated sense of freedom within a network of tunnels running beneath reality….or not.


Irina and Silviu Székely’s Blog 

Irina and Silviu Székely’s Flickr