Just in time for the inauguration of the new communal stage of Șona, a cassette containing the recording of the classic play that will open the space was anonymously donated to the local radio station by one of the villagers. ‘The singing hills are out to get us!‘, a sci-fi musical play that explores the ‘true‘ horrors and origins of the strange mounds guarding the village from above, dubbed ‘guruiețe‘ by the locals. Collecting interviews, conspiracies and scientific theories, the project follows how their legend got distorted through time, and how the locals remember the guruiețe’s origin, all of them posessing a small fraction of their ‘actual‘ mysterious arrival, next to the village. (Lucian Barbu)

‘Wooden stick‘ is a handmade book that revisits the idea of the photo album, bringing attention to the carriers of wooden sticks in the village of Șona. Whether used as a tool handle, a walking stick, or a bush cutter, the stick also serves here as the book’s binding. Its charred appearance recalls the blackened facades of Șona’s barns, evoking the possible sound of the book: the crackle of fire. The low-tech sound recording is the result of rubbing a contact mic that I deliberately dragged across the ground. The idea is to reproduce the gesture of the shepherd who crosses the village every day with a tree branch in hand, its foliage brushing against the asphalt. (Laure Caturgier)

This is ‘a love letter to the mountains‘, a two-part reflection on my intimate relationship with the catalytic landscape surrounding the Făgăraș peaks. It traces a journey taken two years ago to the highest altitudes of my homeland, shaped by ways of seeing the light that scans the massif’s distant contours. From a garden in Șona, rooted in the present moment, emerges a symbiotic process between a physical diary and a soundscape. (Lena Ciobanu)

The book and sound piece ‘He and I together, we weigh 200 kg — about the weight of 4 sacks of grain‘ reflects on my parents’ marriage and their unceasing work in the fields, cultivating crops. It explores how these intertwined elements, their relationship and labor, shaped me. By associating the concept of marriage with the idea of agricultural fieldwork, I intend to outline a project created from and about worries.

Is it possible to search for something when we don’t know what it looks like? To what extent are we capable of persisting in such a quest? What can give purpose to a search? ‘Resembling Something ‘ delves into notions of memory, futurity, alienation, and solitude through a speculative fictional narrative, unfolding in a sound piece and a book. ‘Resembling Something‘ envisions a future where the village of Șona, Romania, has been abandoned by humans due to a global crisis. Something previously unseen, once living underground, is now emerging to the surface. A woman embarks on a solo journey to investigate and discover what it is.

‘6 57 96 209 114‘ illustrates five decaying houses that stand as witnesses to a series of lost narrations. The project underlines the changes experienced by the local community and their impact on its identity. On the walls of these houses, overlapping patterns spread once with rollers, reveal fragments of a layered history—a silent language that speaks about the community’s life and the transformations of the place in the current context. The book employs both photography and text to create a poetic portrait of each space. The work includes a sound composition with recordings made within the boundaries of these houses, where the everyday sounds of the surroundings intertwine with the memory of the structures. (Irina Motroc)

The project ‘Botanical Evaluations‘ speculatively investigates a pseudo-science dedicated to plant pathology, creating a fictive system in which flora suffers from imaginary afflictions. Through a conceptual intersection of invented botanical drawings, speculative texts, false diagnoses, and fictional remedies, the project constructs an alternative reality. Sounds generated from dried plants, combined with digital synthesizer compositions, amplify the sense of absurdity, exploring how we mythologize the vegetal world and inscribe it into personal narratives, challenging the boundaries between reality, fiction, and memory. (Ruxandra Nițescu)

‘About fences, defense and non-human gatekeepers‘ explores the relationship between the presence of fences and stray dogs within both rural and urban settings. It draws insightful parallels between human-made boundaries, societal structures, and the inherent tension between protection and exclusion. (Lisa Marie Schmitt)