Simona Popovic: the Opaque

Conceptually and visually, the Opaque explores a range of emotional states tied to life’s transitions. Whether rooted in fundamental sentiments such as love and loss or found in the quiet pauses in between, the exhibition centers on the emotional shifts that form us - those that cannot be fully seen, defined, or resolved.

According to Popovic, her works are shaped by atmosphere and emotion rather than tied to a specific place or physical reality. Through her own visual language and lens, she merges her surroundings with elements such as light, shadow, and texture, creating images that feel at once familiar and distant. Her compositions often evoke a visual pause - a moment where presence and absence quietly coexist.

For instance, in the work ‘the sound of red’ the viewer finds themselves alone in what appears to be the remains of an abandoned space - something that once was. Upon closer engagement, one can almost hear the echo of their own breath or sense the crisp smell of dried leaves lying across the floor. Darkness dominates the image, yet a faint red light emerges at the far end of a staircase. Columns appear, illuminated as if guiding a way forward out of the darkness. The place remains, even as what once defined it has disappeared. By utilizing the duality between light and darkness, Popovic explores themes of loss and emergence - and the feelings that lie in between.

Working primarily with analogue photography and photogravures, her practice is deeply process-driven, drawing on the slow, tactile qualities of image-making. She layers, manipulates, and experiments with each image, treating the surface as both unique and physical. Her use of light and shadow becomes a compositional tool that reinforces the emotional ambiguity that is present throughout the work. 

Poetry forms an integral part of Popovic’s practice, offering a parallel textual layer to the visual works. Like her images, her poems evoke presence and ambiguity, expanding the emotional dimension of each piece through language.

Kilde:
Bricks Gallery