Lessons from nature
Lessons from nature
There is a particular kind of blindness that comes with familiarity. We recognise the veins of a leaf, the curve of a shell and the shifting colours of a sunset, yet we have seen them so often that we rarely stop to look closely. Nature becomes scenery, admired, photographed, perhaps missed after too many hours indoors, but rarely examined as a system whose logic might have something to say about the way we work, make decisions or live alongside one another.
Cluj-base biologist and explorer Alexandru Stermin has spent much of his life resisting this kind of inattentiveness. His work has taken him from the jungles of South America to Siberia, studying the relationship between humans and the natural world. For him, nature has never been entirely separate from the questions that shape human life. Adaptation, symbiosis, diversity and rhythm belong to biology, certainly, but they also describe processes we encounter in communities, relationships and our own attempts to navigate change.
This was the territory explored during Qubic Talk: Lessons from Nature, an event organised by the Cluj Cultural Centre as part of Studiotopia. Designed as an informal fireside conversation held at Qub – centre for science and arts, the evening brought Stermin together with Ciprian Sipoș, a specialist in circular design and Zero-Waste behavioural strategies, in a discussion moderated by Simona Niste, environmental engineer, professor and sustainability advocate. The premise was to look at nature as a source of knowledge in our lives.
The conversation moved easily between biology and everyday experience. What do our bodies need in order to regulate themselves? What does a healthy rhythm look like in a culture built around acceleration? How do relationships affect our wellbeing? And what happens when sustainability is understood not only as a matter of resources and environmental ethics, but as a question of how we inhabit our own lives?
Again and again, the discussion returned to the idea that nature is not external to us. Stermin spoke about the natural world as an early source of gentleness, patience and unconditional acceptance in his own life. These were personal observations, but they opened onto larger biological questions. Living systems survive through relationships; scpecies adapt to conditions rather than abstract ideals; cooperation, symbiosis and diversity are not sentimental concepts imposed on nature by humans, they are observable strategies through which life continues.Seen from this perspective, nature offers a rather different vocabulary for thinking about wellbeing.
From resilience to circular thinking
The conversation at Qub pushed further. Reconnection was discussed as a way of paying attention to the systems we already belong to and recognising that human relationships, personal wellbeing and ecological thinking are not isolated concerns. From there, Ciprian Sipoș shifted the focus towards the way these systems actually work, inviting us to look more closely at the efficiency of natural processes. Nature rarely follows the linear logic of take, use, discard. Matter changes state, resources circulate and what appears to be the end of one process can become the beginning of another. Circular thinking brings some of this logic into design and education.
During Qubic Talk, Sipoș spoke about ergonomics and simplicity, and about how principles observed in nature can help generate more responsible and creative processes. The point was not to imitate a forest literally or turn biology into a collection of business metaphors. Rather, it was to examine the assumptions embedded in the systems we design. What do we call waste? Why do we build processes around disposal rather than transformation? When does complexity solve a problem, and when does it simply reproduce one? These are questions of sustainability, but also of imagination. A circular system first requires someone to see a resource differently.
Later that evening, the conversation left the chairs and entered the exhibition space.
Making the invisible visible
After the conversation, the evening continued with immersive installations created especially for the event by Cluj-based artists Catrinel Săbăciag and Alexandra Podariu. Here, the dialogue between science, nature and creative practice became physical.
Catrinel Săbăciag, a multidisciplinary artist whose work explores product design, light and optical effects, turned her attention to magnetic fields, invisible phenomena that subtly guide our everyday lives. Through a special container filled with ferrofluid, visitors could interact with magnets and watch the liquid respond, forming dynamic, three-dimensional shapes. The magnetic force itself remained invisible, but its effects acquired a physical form through the movement of the ferrofluid. As visitors changed the position of the magnets, movement, form and symmetry shifted with them, turning observation into interaction and the scientific phenomenon into a perceptual experience.
Alexandra Podariu’s rezoNatura entered another imperceptible territory: waves and frequencies. Her installation translated them into a multisensory experience, allowing scientific phenomena to move into the visual language of art. Colour, optical effects and shifting perspectives turned perception itself into part of the experiment.
Together, the works led visitors through magnetic fields, colour spectra and optical illusions, offering a practical reminder that seeing is never entirely passive. The depth we perceive in a space depends partly on the position from which we look. Change the perspective and the image changes with it. Under certain conditions, something previously invisible can suddenly acquire form.
This is where the intersection of science and art became particularly vivid. Physics shaped the behaviour of the works themselves, while art changed the way these phenomena were encountered. A magnetic field moved beyond the diagram of a physics lesson, just as frequency became something to experience rather than simply measure. Both could provoke fascination before explanation and curiosity before certainty.
Studiotopia was created around the belief that meaningful encounters between artists and scientists can generate new ways of understanding complex questions. At Qub, that encounter shaped the entire evening: a biological observation led to reflections on human relationships; a natural system offered a different way of thinking about resources; a physical phenomenon became the material of an immersive artwork. Perhaps this is one of the most valuable things that can happen when science and art share a space.
The creative work of communicating science
The creative work of communicating science
We spend an extraordinary amount of time consuming information. We scroll past explanations of solar panels, climate systems and artificial intelligence, watch ninety-second videos about the human brain and save infographics on nutrition, sleep and energy. Scientific knowledge has never been more present in everyday life, nor more readily available. Access, however, is not the same as understanding and understanding something is still a long way from being able to explain it.
At a Studiotopia Pop-up Lab organised by the Cluj Cultural Centre at Qub in Cluj-Napoca, a group of pupils was given a single subject: energy. Broad enough to fill several libraries, familiar enough to seem deceptively simple. Their task, as part of the Lightbulb Challenge, was to move from that single word to a two-minute presentation capable of holding the attention of a general audience. In other words, they had to stop being consumers of information and become communicators of knowledge.
Before the science, a recipe
The workshop opened with a deliberately impractical task. Each pupil chose something from the kitchen, an ingredient or a utensil, without coordinating with the others. The newly formed teams then had five minutes to invent a recipe using everything their members had selected. The result was chaotic, slightly absurd and immediately revealing. A collection of ingredients does not automatically become a recipe, just as a collection of facts does not automatically become an argument. Someone needs to see connections, someone needs to keep the group moving, someone follows an unusual idea far enough to discover whether it works, someone gives the final result structure and a voice.
Before moving on to the scientific challenge, the pupils explored how teams can self-organise and were introduced to four possible roles: navigator, explorer, writer and storyteller. The Navigator organises and keeps track of time; the Explorer is driven by curiosity and moves across different fields of knowledge; the Writer takes notes and gives structure to the group’s ideas and the Storyteller thinks about the audience and is comfortable speaking in public. These offered a simple way of making the often invisible work of a team visible and of recognising that a strong presentation is rarely the work of one kind of thinker. Then came the scientific theme.
Twenty minutes, one subject, two minutes on stage
The subject was energy and the teams had twenty minutes to turn it into a presentation. The process was carefully timed. The first three minutes were dedicated to forming the team. From minute four to minute eight, pupils gathered resources. Between minutes nine and twelve, they assigned tasks. By minute sixteen, a first draft had to exist. The final four minutes were reserved for turning it into a presentation ready to be delivered. The time constraint was not incidental. With endless time, it is easy to keep reading, searching and collecting. Under pressure, another skill becomes necessary: judgement.
The pupils had to decide which information was essential, which detail distracted from the main idea and which perspective might make an audience care enough to keep listening. In other words, they had to edit. This is one of the points at which the boundary between scientific and artistic practice becomes remarkably porous. Scientific communication demands accuracy, but accuracy alone does not create understanding. A communicator also works with perspective, sequence, emphasis, analogy and rhythm. The same scientific subject can be approached through a process, an everyday object or a familiar human experience. Choosing the angle is both an intellectual and a creative act. And energy proved particularly generous in this respect.
From solar power to coffee, hugs and potatoes
By the end of the challenge, energy had travelled in several unexpected directions. The pupils spoke about the processes behind solar energy, but also about the energy we get from coffee, from a hug and even from a potato. Some presentations began with scientific processes, while others found their starting point in everyday observations. Each team had to explore its chosen angle, investigate it and decide what was worth telling.
Behind these very different presentations was the same demanding process: finding information, identifying what was relevant, questioning claims and shaping the result into an argument that someone else would want to follow.
This journey from information to understanding and from understanding to communication was at the heart of the Lightbulb Challenge. Developed by writer Ada Roseti and brought to Qub together with Games of Science as part of the Studiotopia Pop-up Labs, the challenge responds to a reality that is easy to overlook. Young people consume an extraordinary amount of information, but rarely have the opportunity to practise turning that information into knowledge they can question, argue and communicate.
As the teams researched, the question of sources inevitably entered the room. Myths were debated and claims were questioned. The pupils also discussed how AI-based search tools could be used in functional ways when researching a subject, while still approaching the information they found with critical judgement. The goal was never simply to produce a polished speech. They had to negotiate a balance that professional communicators face constantly: simplifying without distorting, creating a compelling narrative without sacrificing the science and making an idea memorable without stripping it of its complexity.
When artistic thinking becomes a scientific tool
This was where artistic thinking became particularly useful. A story can establish a point of view, a metaphor can offer a bridge towards an unfamiliar concept, a drawing can make a relationship easier to see. Gesture, voice and timing influence what an audience notices and remembers. The tools available to the teams – from storytelling and visual elements to role-play and simple props – opened up different ways of giving scientific ideas a form.
Art, in this context, was not there to decorate science or make a presentation more entertaining, it became part of the thinking process: finding the right metaphor requires understanding what is essential about an idea; building a narrative means deciding how one piece of information leads to another, choosing an image or an example forces the communicator to consider what the audience already knows and where a bridge needs to be built.
Putting the ideas to the test
The presentations were the final stage of the challenge. Each team delivered its two-minute speech, answered questions and received feedback. The science behind the argument mattered, but so did its architecture. Was the central idea clear? Did the examples support it? Was the information convincing? Did the presentation have a direction? Could the audience follow it? For a while, Qub operated simultaneously as a study lab and a creative studio. Scientific ideas were researched, debated, edited and eventually spoken aloud. Knowledge did not remain on a screen or in a search result, it had to pass through a group of people, survive different perspectives, acquire structure and finally reach an audience. And sometimes, the idea that made science easier to understand came from the most unexpected place: the energy inside a potato.
Making, testing, imagining: where art and science meet
Making, testing, imagining: where art and science meet
A child is carefully pouring a warm mixture of gelatin, starch and vinegar into a small mould. Just moments ago, the ingredients looked as though they belonged in a kitchen cupboard. Soon, they will become a sheet of biodegradable plastic.
Small hands carefully press copper tape onto folded paper. A tiny LED flickers to life and an ordinary paper sculpture suddenly begins to glow. Electricity is no longer an invisible force hidden inside textbooks, it becomes something children can build, test and hold in their hands. Paper sculpting, pattern design and colour shift the focus from simply making the circuit work to exploring shape, composition and the way light moves through the object.
The room fills with the scent of lavender, rosemary and citrus as children blend natural oils, waxes and botanical extracts. They compare textures, observe how ingredients react to one another and discover that chemistry is present in every fragrance, colour and consistency they create.
None of the children would probably describe what they are doing as learning physics, chemistry or material science. Yet that is precisely what is happening, they are discovering that science is something you can touch, question, reshape and understand through making, not a collection of facts waiting to be memorised. This simple shift, from learning aboutscience to learning through making, was at the heart of the Studiotopia Pop-up Labs, organised by the Cluj Cultural Centre at Qub in Cluj-Napoca, Romania.
Two disciplines, one way of exploring the world
For decades, science and art have largely been taught as separate worlds. Science has often been associated with precision, formulas and correct answers, while art has been framed as a space for imagination and personal expression. Yet beyond the classroom, these disciplines have never truly existed in isolation. Both begin with curiosity, both ask questions before they offer answers, both invite us to observe the world more carefully, experiment with new possibilities and imagine realities that do not yet exist. This understanding shaped the educational approach behind the Pop-up Labs developed by the Cluj Cultural Centre. Rather than using artistic activities to make science more entertaining or scientific concepts to justify artistic creation, the workshops were designed around the premise that art and science are complementary ways of exploring the world. Paper sculpting, illustration, visual storytelling, pattern design and colour mixing were integrated into the process as ways of investigating scientific ideas and giving them a visible form.
When children are encouraged to move naturally between observation, experimentation and creation, learning becomes deeper, more intuitive and, perhaps most importantly, more meaningful. The workshops also responded to a challenge that extends far beyond education. As children spend more time engaging with nature through screens than through direct experience, understanding ecosystems, materials or natural phenomena requires opportunities to reconnect with the living world through exploration, making and sensory experience. Each Pop-up Lab invited participants to do exactly that, transforming scientific concepts into something tangible, personal and closely connected to everyday life.
When a material becomes a creative medium
The Bioplastic workshop offered one of the clearest examples of this approach. Conversations about plastic pollution often begin with alarming statistics or images of overflowing landfills. Here, they began with a bowl of ingredients. Using gelatin, starch, glycerine and vinegar, children experimented with recipes for biodegradable materials, observing how different substances changed consistency, elasticity and texture. They adjusted proportions, compared results and discovered that materials are not fixed objects but outcomes of experimentation and design.
Without realising it, they were following the same process scientists use every day: making observations, testing hypotheses, learning from unexpected results and refining their ideas. Environmental education emerged naturally from this process: rather than being told that plastic is a problem, participants experienced how sustainable alternatives are created through imagination, experimentation and scientific thinking.
The experiment became even more engaging when the children took the process one step further, using the materials they had created to make jewellery and badges, which they could paint and personalise however they wished. At this point, the properties they had been observing as young scientists became creative choices: texture influenced the shape of an object, flexibility opened up different possibilities and colour and form gave each piece its own identity. While science helped them understand the material, art gave them a reason to explore what the material could become.
Chemistry through the senses
The Natural Cosmetics workshop approached chemistry from an equally unexpected angle. Instead of introducing chemical reactions through laboratory equipment, children explored them through plants, essential oils, botanical extracts and natural waxes. They learned how ingredients interact, how emulsions are formed, why certain combinations produce different textures and fragrances and how plants contain properties that have been understood and used for generations. Scientific knowledge unfolded through smell, touch and observation, making chemistry feel less like an abstract discipline and more like a language for understanding the natural world.
The workshop also encouraged participants to think critically about everyday consumption. Every cosmetic product tells a story, not only about chemistry, but also about biodiversity, natural resources, production processes and sustainability. By creating their own products, children discovered that even ordinary objects carry invisible scientific, environmental and cultural choices.
Electricity enters the story
Perhaps the most poetic encounter between science and art happened during the Light Stories workshop. Here, electrical circuits became almost invisible, quietly supporting layered paper narratives that came alive through light. Inspired by The Little Prince, children transformed one of literature’s most beloved stories into illuminated paper scenes, using hidden LEDs to reveal characters, landscapes and carefully crafted details. Paper sculpting and illustration gave the scenes their physical form, while visual storytelling, pattern and colour helped establish mood and guide the eye through each composition. The placement of light itself became an artistic decision: what should remain in shadow, what should be revealed and which detail should the viewer notice first? In the process, they discovered that light could guide attention, shape atmosphere and become part of the narrative itself.
Electricity was no longer simply a physical phenomenon to be explained, it became emotion, storytelling and imagination. Understanding how a circuit works was only the beginning. What truly mattered was discovering how scientific principles could become creative tools for expressing ideas, emotions and stories. By combining paper engineering, illustration and simple electronics, children experienced science as a language capable of bringing an imaginary world to life.
Although each Pop-up Lab explored different scientific fields, from material science and chemistry to physics and electronics, they shared a remarkably consistent methodology. Children were invited to observe before receiving explanations, to experiment before reaching conclusions and to create before being evaluated. They behaved like scientists long before they realised they were learning science. At the same time, they worked through processes familiar to artists: choosing materials, experimenting with form and colour, building compositions, responding to unexpected results and refining an idea as it developed. This way of learning feels particularly relevant today. The environmental challenges facing younger generations cannot be addressed through scientific literacy alone, they also demand creativity, empathy and the ability to understand relationships between humans, materials and ecosystems. Education, therefore, needs spaces where knowledge is not divided into isolated disciplines but experienced as an interconnected process. At Qub, this happened through simple gestures: mixing ingredients, folding paper, painting, connecting circuits, testing ideas and asking questions.
Studiotopia International Pop-up Lab 2025 brought interdisciplinary creativity to Cluj-Napoca
Studiotopia International Pop-up Lab 2025 brought interdisciplinary creativity to Cluj-Napoca
Between 21–25 July 2025, Cluj-Napoca became a hub for interdisciplinary exchange and experimentation, hosting the Studiotopia International Pop-up Lab, an intensive summer school that brought together art, science and education to explore sustainable urban futures.
The program gathered 20 young participants from Romania and across Europe, who spent five days working collaboratively on creative and practical responses to pressing urban challenges. Designed as a dynamic learning environment, the lab combined Design Thinking methodologies, artistic exploration and field-based research, encouraging participants to rethink how cities function and whom they serve.
A week of exploration, collaboration, and creative inquiry
The Studiotopia International Pop-up Lab opened with a meet & greet session that quickly set the tone for a highly interactive week. One of the first exercises, Pop-Up Places, invited participants to translate personal memories into handcrafted pop-up cards, mapping emotional connections to their home cities through storytelling and visual expression.
This was followed by a dérive experience, an unstructured urban exploration method that encouraged participants to navigate Cluj intuitively, without digital tools. By engaging directly with the city’s rhythms, textures and social dynamics, participants gathered insights that later informed their project work.
On the second day, these experiences were transformed into emotional maps, capturing not only routes, but also sensations, encounters and perceptions. Guided by facilitator Marius Mornea, participants were introduced to the Design Thinking framework, moving from empathy and problem definition to ideation, prototyping and iterative testing.
The program also featured artistic and sensory-based learning, including a workshop led by Portuguese artist Ânia Pais. Held in the Cluj Botanical Garden, the session encouraged participants to engage with nature beyond observation, drawing with their eyes closed, experimenting with natural materials, and collectively building visual narratives. The exercise emphasized intuition, collaboration and the role of art in understanding ecological systems.
Throughout the week, participants engaged in creative labs, discussions, and co-creation sessions, building a shared language across disciplines and cultural backgrounds.
The final day extended learning beyond the city, with visits to the Tăușeni Monumental Ensemble by Alexandru Chira and the Sic reed beds, where artistic vision and environmental awareness connected.
Five teams, five visions for the city
The Studiotopia International Pop-up Lab concluded with a public presentation of projects developed by participants working in teams. Each proposal addressed urban challenges identified during the week, combining creativity, research and practical thinking.
Among the concepts presented:
Race Against Waste proposed a mobile app connecting students in Cluj through weekly ecological and social challenges, from cleaning green spaces and planting trees to cooking communal meals and exploring the city together. Real actions are rewarded with festival tickets, course credits, discounts and leadership roles, creating a growing incentive system that ties individual effort to collective impact. Built on local university networks, the project leverages Cluj’s student community to drive environmental action at scale.
Team: Carla Precup (RO), Andrei Lupea (RO), Maria Prunean (RO), Nina Serra (FR), Alessandro Mazzani (IT)
Cluj Cultural Pavilions started from a pointed question: who truly has the right to the city? The team’s answer was a series of modular structures made from recycled tarpaulins, transforming underused public spaces into shaded hubs for culture, activism, and collective exchange. More than shade structures, the pavilions are proposed as tools for reclaiming the urban commons — a demand, the team argued, for moving from individualistic to participatory access to public space.
Team: Rudi-lee McCarthy (IRE), Adina Gîlceavă (RO), Vlad Beu (RO), Joel Chebri (FR)
Arbor Echo invited the city to see trees not as decorative objects but as active, living infrastructure. The project imagines tree-like structures in Cluj’s public squares that draw people in with shaded seating and VR headsets transporting visitors into lush forest soundscapes. The goal is both immediate, offering moments of calm amid urban noise, and long-term, shifting the cultural perception of trees as essential civic partners in building resilient, liveable cities.
Team: Ariadna Gulic (RO), Michelle Medici (IT), Sarah Helen Mbambu Maswaku (BE), Stavros Kazakos (CY)
The Plantform reimagines overlooked urban corners — vacant lots, neglected squares, rooftops — as modular, living spaces that support gardening, gathering and community life simultaneously. Compact, adaptable and sustainable by design, the Plantform system can quickly transform parks and plazas into vibrant hubs with planters, seating, mini stages and shaded areas. Its impact extends across biodiversity, community ties and cultural programming, while democratising access to public performance spaces.
Team: Alexandra Măican (RO), Andrei Lela (RO), Jonathan Aparicio Ruiz (SP), Sarmad Salloum (BG)
University Territories as Public Urban Parks was the Lab’s closing vision: what if the campuses of Cluj’s universities were opened to the entire city? The team proposed transforming underused university land into green, ecological spaces for learning, connection and collective care: urban forests, eco-education gardens, beekeeping zones and creative community hubs. With universities positioned as publicly funded institutions already holding expertise in ecology and sustainability, the project makes the case for knowledge that doesn’t stop at the university gate.
Team: Robert Konoplia (UA), Ana Jerina (SVN), Simion Iepure-Górski (RO), Dominika Szymańska (PL)
The Studiotopia International Pop-up Lab wrapped up on 25 July, but the ideas developed during the week remain relevant. The projects reflect concrete ways of rethinking urban spaces in Cluj, with potential to be tested, adapted or taken further in other contexts.
Ânia Pais: 'Shadows of the Landscape'
Ânia Pais - Shadows of the Landscape
As part of the challenge „If We Opened People Up, We’d Find Landscapes”, Cluj Cultural Centre welcomed Portuguese visual artist Ânia Pais for the Studiotopia residency programme. Working primarily in installation, her practice spans a diverse and experimental range of media, including textiles, ceramics, photography and performance. During this period, she developed two installations – Alma Matter and The Earth Shall Eat—as well as the sound art piece Aware, in collaboration with sound artist João Feio and under the guidance of scientist Tibor Hartel and the Local Challenge Committee: Alexandru Stermin, Mihaela Ghiță and Ciprian Mihali.
In 2025, Ânia Pais undertook a series of research visits in Cluj, in April and again in July, which offered good grounds for connecting with the artistic community, the LCC members and relevant initiatives related to ecology and sustainability. Her visits extended beyond the city itself, to nearby cities like Alba Iulia and rural areas around Cluj, as well as visiting the Ethnographic Museum, urban gardens and nearby forests to gather inspiration and develop ideas for the works she later created and exhibited in the exhibition Shadows of the Landscape.
Emerging from this process of research, movement and encounter, Shadows of the Landscape (Contemporar, December 2025 – February 2026) offered a reflection on the development of the artworks from their initial conception to the final exhibition display, as the creative process itself was central, the end result was not the main focus, but rather the journey. It begins with the personification of the landscape, understood as a visible and active presence rather than a merely passive element of nature.
Drawing from this context and process, the exhibition can be understood through the curatorial lens as an exploration of how landscapes are felt and carried:
„There are landscapes we walk through and landscapes that walk through us. Shadows of the Landscape begins from this quiet premise: that every environment leaves a trace, a subtle imprint carried on the body long after the place itself disappears from view. Here, the landscape is not an image to be looked at, but a presence felt through shifts of perception. It lingers as vibration, density, resonance. Instead of presenting the landscape as a visual motif, the exhibition focuses on how it is perceived through the senses, murmuring in the background of one’s attention, insisting that even what seems distant can move us intimately. The works gathered in this space operate less as representations and more as invitations to inhabit this intermediate zone where memory, sensibility and matter converge.
Throughout the exhibition, a subtle dialogue emerges between what can be grasped and what resists articulation. The landscape appears not as a panoramic view but as a constellation of sensations: echo, density, pressure, warmth, distance. It casts shadows not through light, but through its ability to inhabit the visitor’s interior space. The body becomes a threshold where these shadows accumulate, shaping an understanding that is less cognitive than experiential. This approach highlights the role of the body as an active participant in the encounter with the landscape.
Shadows of the Landscape proposes a different form of engagement, one rooted in empathy, attentiveness and the recognition that our relationship with the world is reciprocal. The works ask how we position ourselves in relation to the environments we traverse: whether we approach them with dominance or humility, intrusion or care, insistence or restraint. The exhibition raises these questions subtly, through experience rather than didactic statements, suggesting that sometimes the most meaningful gesture is not to step closer, but to pause; not to grasp, but to witness; not to intervene, but to allow. In this sense, the exhibition reflects a world in which coexistence is not a concept but a condition. It speaks to the delicate balance between visibility and shadow, presence and withdrawal, touch and distance. It encourages visitors to reflect on how landscapes continue to shape us, even when absent.”
The exhibition is accompanied by a publication edited by Corina Bucea, Director of Cultural Development at the Cluj Cultural Centre, which expands the project beyond the gallery space. Bringing together multiple perspectives, it features a text by scientist Tibor Hartel that examines the dynamics of art-science collaboration and its relevance to ecological concerns and environmental justice. It also includes Ânia Pais’s reflections on her artistic process and the development of the works, alongside a curatorial essay by Gabriela Moldovan and documentation of the research process.
The publication is also available online here.
The video interview below offers an intimate perspective on her practice and the processes behind Shadows of the Landscape, where research, material exploration, and perception unfold through her own voice.
