Disintegrating communities, redefined rural landscape, memories, family, faith, and uncertainty. The contemporary village image diverges from the stereotypes of impoverished, elderly laborers or an idealized countryside; instead, it embodies internal conflicts, an uncertain future, and a reality unrecognizable to outsiders' perception. Within rural families, previous generations instinctively passed on not only agricultural and farming knowledge, but also community values, village life, and local culture.

Today, this hereditary process is completely questionable and subversive. My generation is the first to occupy a decisive place in the outcome of this changing hereditary process. Current visual research explores the intergenerational dynamics in this period, focusing on the youth in order to explore the notion of village, village identity and home.

The series explores the concept of masculinity. I contrast the symbols associated with masculinity and their effects with the patterns they bring. My project is based on social psychology literature and interviews, which I supplement with my own perspectives. I seek causal links between them and build a system along an associative chain.

My aim is to portray the man of the present age, with all his fragility and problems. It is an attempt to find images of the man of the 21st century. I want to nuance the stereotypes associated with men and masculinity in the past. The symbolic and associative images, processed from research and interviews, form the structure of the series. These will be supplemented with images from my own experiences and from my observation of the contemporary environment. In the following, I will create a system to map the male psyche in the 21st century and its influences.

I started my project during the József Pécsi Photography Grant 2024 and I am currently working on it.

I always wanted to be a mother. I was the type of a girl who believed in fairy tales. I became a wedding photographer—heralding the fairy tales of others.

When my first child was born, after a horrible birth experience the magic did not happen. There was a strange creature, his skin coloured lilac, my body full of stitches. I felt guilty and empty and I did not know the worst yet to come.

Collaborating with fellow mothers -some of them have experienced postpartum depression - we find little solace as society and media quickly turns the conversations to the aesthetics of our bodies post birth, with little room for the fear and doubts.These heavy burdens take their toll on mothers, only a few dare to admit their vulnerability. Nurturing a space to talk about this is essential, not only for women and mothers, but for the society as a whole. A healthy society needs healthy mothers, which is why they deserve more respect and appreciation. The only way to achieve this is to listen to their stories and work together to increase their social esteem.

Before every portrait session I had an interview, where they shared their thoughts about pregnancy, the health care system, the society and social media’s pressure of being a perfect mother. It is an on-going project starting in 2020.

In a child's life, a father figure is the defining factor. The presence of a father influences self-esteem, relationship patterns, gives a positive or negative male image, and provides security.

When I was 6 years old, my father stopped coming to pick me up and I didn't see him for 11 years. Before we could repair the relationship, he died. The death of a parent you loved as a child and then abandoned causes not only physical distance, but also emotional rupture. The trauma and experience of absence stays with us constantly, even if we ignore it. The death of a parent makes the impossibility of reconciliation with that parent permanent, and the trauma of abandonment resurfaces again and again in the present. We want to understand his or her reasons, his or her mistakes, his or her choices, or even try to make up for the absence he or she has caused. The question arises: can we know someone after their death? The process of getting to know someone after death is indirect: we can get to know someone through memories, documents and the stories of others. This inevitably means that the process of getting to know someone remains fragmented, distorted by all the participants and by our own subjective experience. Coming to know a dead person is not merely an exploration of someone, but also a personal task: trying to come to terms with past events and accepting the imperfect human side of them. In this series, 8 years after my father's death, I try to get to know him. I get to know the places where his life took place, the objects he left behind, and I meet his family for the first time.

I find it important that we look back to our personal and historical past in order to have a better understanding of ourselves and our surroundings. Mother Don’t You Cry is a series of 20 images based on childhood memories and reflections on family stories that formed my identity and the person who I am today. The title of the project refers to a Hungarian folk song, in which a mother is crying because her daughter is leaving the family house as she is stepping into her new role in life as a wife and the daughter consoles her mother not to cry as this is the way of life.

My family comes from two villages in Romania (Transylvania) in which the attachments to traditions and rituals are very strong and they served as important elements in my upbringing. In my work I rely on these traditions, the life of women who surrounded me, my memories and archive images but I believe that my images go beyond them and beyond me. My aim is to create a visual world that speaks about womanhood, family connections, generations and different rural traditions.

The series focuses on the polarised political discourse and its representation in the media and its impact on the human psyche, while also exploring the relationship between politics, nature and the living world.

In the series, the images are linked according to a universal system of symbols, forming pairs of images that form an endless chain of associations with each other. In the process, I work with staged photographs, but consciously on way that seems to be looking at the world around us through the eyes of a 21st century flaneur.

The frame of the heterogeneous series is a balance between nature and the human-made environment - this can be a social environment, personal situations or human-made physical space - so the built environment is as much a part of the picture as the natural one.

The frustration experienced in one is what drives the exploration of the other, but the politics and digital world has an impact on everything. In associative imagery, I am not looking for solutions, rather to interpret, to find similarities and connections between the environment and the current mood of the people living in it, and their visions of the future.

*“You must change your life.” Rainer Maria Rilke

Living close to nature and exploring a community based lifestyle has been a long desire in me. It is motivated by the anxiety and physical illnesses I have experienced in the past couple of years. It has also something to do with the distance from everything I took for granted as a child. I grew up in a community and in an environment where a connection to the land, animals, food or water was an integral part of life. I have experienced a close relationship with birth or death, both of which typically happened at home, in the company of women. I remember the natural rhythmicity that defined our days. To rise with the sun, to lie with the sun. Each time of day and season brought its own harvests, its instructions.

As newer and newer technologies are available to make our lives easier, the disengagement from nature and community is painting an increasingly frightening picture of the future. The majority of society is concentrated in big cities where individuals are isolated not only from nature but also from their immediate environment. The knowledge that our ancestors had (and that some communities still have) about the land, animals and the natural way of life is becoming more and more distant, lessening our trust in our own instincts and our experience of the natural course of life. With my series, I want to work towards exploring a way of life that is based around the natural cycle. Where community, connection and a rediscovery of ancient knowledge, that can help us develop a more natural rhythm of life, are important.My aim is to find answers to the anxiety that surrounds our days, which I am increasingly experiencing in myself and in those around me. The final form of the project would be a photobook, with writings and possibly interview snippets. The design of the book is not definitive but I can imagine that it might include specific recipes or ideas. I also imagine that while creating the photographs I engage more with community making in the forms of workshops, and using our garden for a space to learn about nature. In my pervious works I have explored our relationship with animals, the land and our family members in the form of a single image, and in this series I want to expand on these processes and forge them into a coherent body of work.