Today’s exhibition by ATOMA, in my view, marks the onset of her artistic maturity.
Having collaborated for several years, I’ve been fortunate to closely observe her journey since 2022:
– Echoes at the Bucharest Galleries Night in 2024
– sevrajă 2.0 at the Brașov Art Museum in 2024
– sevrajă at Kulterra Gallery in 2023
– Euphoric Alienation at Kulterra Gallery in 2022
As evident from this timeline, I’m proud to have coined a word in Romanian by blending the meanings and forms of “withdrawal” and “spell” into a symbiotic creation – “sevrajă” – to reflect on contemporary (digital) dependency. When I pronounce it, it feels like it’s about being drawn in, as if under a spell; it subtly nods to the sometimes contradictory concepts ATOMA employs on her canvases.
It must be said that ATOMA is fascinated by all aspects of the human condition – body and soul, happiness and neurosis, analogue and digital. Her works undoubtedly inform, but the juxtaposition of images invites the viewer to ponder fundamental, philosophical questions.
Here is a list of such questions that I personally contemplate:
Where is “behind”? Does perspective matter?
Reality versus virtual reality. What is real? What is truly beneficial?
The individual versus the world and environment. What is natural? What is human nature?
The digital era ruthlessly strips away our sensations and emotions, offering digital substitutes. Dependency, behaviour, perception, representation, value. What do we control and what controls us?
The screen, source of the blue light, stands as a wall but also a filter, an interface. Is social media good?
ATOMA’s (analogue) works propose: go offline, disconnect (let go of the fear of missing out: FOMO), reconnect, not necessarily reinvent, but rebuild through imagination.
There are associations, suggestions, and hints. The viewer is free to start from what ATOMA puts on the canvas and arrive at their own conclusions.
ATOMA wants the viewer to create their own story based on the painted elements. The artworks reflect ideas and emotions experienced on social media, stemming from personal experience, but the story that triggered the artistic act ultimately remains unknown to the public.
We look at the same things, and they tell us different stories. Perhaps the only common ground lies in the questions we can formulate.
Are we what we consume? How much of the image we project for others is a treatment? A treatment administered to ourselves or to others?
Does the online world allow us to be and dream of something different from reality? Are we more tempted by forbidden things (or just those outside the norm) in the virtual world?
Is a selfie about beauty, ephemeral as it may be, or about futility? Is self-admiration endless or an introspective abyss?
Conforming to social media’s beauty standards— is it a form of empowerment or submission?
In conclusion, I invite you to enjoy Behind the Blue Light. And please leave us your perspective, a title, or a question in the exhibition’s guestbook.
Daniel Kozak