It didn’t happen all at once.
It began months ago — with conversations, sketches, a journey to Portugal, and an idea that didn’t yet have a shape. Something imagined. Something uncertain.
And then, slowly, it started to take form.
At SUPŠ Helenín, together with artist David Strauzz, students stepped into a process that was as much about searching as it was about creating. Not starting from blank canvases, but from what already existed.
They went looking.
Into storage spaces. Into forgotten corners. Into materials that had been set aside, waiting without purpose.
More than 600 fragments of fabric were collected.
Cut. Marked. Painted. Transformed.
Each piece became a small composition — a gesture, a decision, a moment of attention. Individually complete, yet still part of something larger not yet visible.
Then came the assembling.
The fragments were arranged into a shifting tonal spectrum — from dark to light, from density to openness. Gradually, a larger image began to emerge: an abstract portrait, not fixed, but in motion. A composition that changes with distance, perspective, and light.
This was not about precision.
It was about process.
Trial and error.
Adjustment.
Letting things happen.
A move away from the expected. Away from spray paint. Toward material, texture, and time.
What was once considered waste found a new role.
What was overlooked became essential.
And throughout it all, the conditions kept changing.
Sun. Rain. Wind. Cold.
Nothing stable. Nothing controlled.
But the work continued.
Students, teachers, and collaborators stayed with the process — adapting, responding, holding the structure together. That persistence is now part of what you see. Embedded, not visible at first glance, but present.
The result is not just an image.
It is a record of labour.
Of cooperation.
Of shared effort.
A reminder that transformation doesn’t arrive fully formed.
It is built — piece by piece.