White Cuib

“Ciprian Mureșan and Șerban Savu have known each other for almost 20 years. I don’t know how long they’ve been friends, but it feels like it’s been even longer than that, even if what I’m saying doesn’t quite make sense. They share a studio, still on Horea Street, and anyone who has been there can no longer imagine one of them without the other being present. Şerban’s side is minimalist and orderly; Ciprian’s, let’s say, is moving (though it hasn’t quite reached) the opposite extreme. The kitchen table, where they sometimes have coffee with whoever comes to visit, is covered in scratches, with deep gouges carved into the wood, and I’ve always thought it could be exhibited in a gallery, in one context or another. The last major project they worked on together was What Work Is, presented at the 60th edition of the Venice Biennale. Savu as the artist, Mureșan as the curator. What Work Is is also the title of a poem by Philip Levine, which I first read in their studio a few years ago. If I remember correctly, it was printed on a sheet of paper pinned up next to Șerban’s paint tubes and a few empty yogurt jars. Since then, it has remained among my favorite poems, somewhere above and below those written by Brautigan and O’Hara. “We stand in the rain in a long line waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work is—if you’re old enough to read this you know what work is, although you may not do it. Forget you. This is about waiting, shifting from one foot to another. Feeling the light rain falling like mist into your hair, blurring your vision until you think you see your own brother ahead of you, maybe ten places...” / Philip Levine. This exhibition is a symbolic representation of their friendship. No grand words, no grand gestures, no metaphors that are difficult to grasp. It is about two artists who share a studio. It is about work, of course, and about the inevitable intimacy and understanding that exists between two people who have known each other well for years.“ —Alina Andrei