Subtitling may appear to be an introspective flash coming from the innermost existential emotions in which white and black are the opposite ends of a perspective on the uncertain issues we face. Daily life is seen as a mixture of repetitive sequences and irrecoverable distances.

The static, subtitled image, apparently extracted from a movie that is rolling in negative in a lighted room, it is a time fragment cut out from a reconciliation with angst and place din contradiction with the attraction for the current melancholy.

By treating the relationship between text and image liminally, as two forms of silent speech, the works of Cătălin Rulea operate solely in relation to the audience, who, paradoxically, feels the intimacy in a situation in which what matters is the encounter, the escape from the experience of emotional solitude.

The familiarity with the media to which we associate the images of cultural characters that are so referential between different types of cultures – from the culture of pictural representation to the culture of pop cinematography – is short-circuited (through a combination between the traditional technique of engraving and the contemporary use of drawing) not so much in an opposition manner, but instead in a concessional manner, in which an image taken from the the remote history of painting is place din a relationship with an image taken from the recent history of cinematography, or in which an image from a moment of daily life is annihilated for ever in an action that tries to defy the mechanisms of historicization.

In keeping with the bursts of irony and the minimalist rhetoric, the key reflection moments of the show are “the silence” and “the mirror”, the former enhancing the reclusion in solitude, and the latter confronting the viewer with the impossibility of solitude, in which the encpunter with oneself and with the selves of the others becomes a medium for the de-poetisation of the existentialist confrontation.