Virtual

Choreographer There are numerous crossroads between the dance unfolding within the space of an art collection and the very own pieces of this assembling, crossroads that make a sort of mutual colonization of artistic discourses. Flowing along a choreographic score, they

The reader will remember, if I draw his attention thereto, that the magnetic attraction exerted by the Hrandt and Rose Avakian home on me during my teenage years originated in the Eastern art statuettes particularly present on the cants, albeit not only there, but rather

Anyone can become a collector, and anything can be collected: matchboxes, pipes, candy bag stickers, paintings, traditional items, arms, books, and so forth. It seems that the Aztec king Montezuma collected and/or collected people with various malformations which he kept

Ever since I was little, the future was something dark and puzzling to me. I am surprised that I have lived so long, when I was around five (it was then, no question, that I got sick) I could by no means picture myself at fifteen and here I am, dear me, well past those days

For well over one year, since I and the retiring actor Stelian Nistor marketed our tee-vees to see the magazine Everybody's Cuisine through the press, our peers, notably those at The Catzavencu Academy, never fail to cheek me: You meatball-journalist, recipe commentator,

It seems almost provocative to launch such an issue on the local pleasures, pastimes and delights, while nowadays a troublesome Romania appears as plunged into unending economic and social difficulties, striving to cope with various shortcomings and weaknesses. However,

Emil Popescu was an architect. His specialty was the oil factories and we can say, without any exaggeration, that wherever in the country an oil factory had been built in the last five or six years, one could easily tell it was the work of architect Popescu's skilled

excerpt Nobody listened to him or did so intermittently, the Russian mumbled something, excited by the other's mumbling, Mr. A. V. Emilian was drinking, capitalizing on the exaggerated attention the strange guest was receiving from the little old lady. This one-nighter,

Evening. A gentleman is walking in front of a house: three steps to the left, three steps to the right. He examines the building, then the street, and again the building. He rubs his red eyelids. Three steps to the left, three steps to the right. A gentleman with a bamboo

At first sight, nothing could be more reasonable or understandable than the illustration of the present issue of PLURAL. As the texts spin around the sexual obsession in Romanian literature, running from Creanga`s licentious Tale of All Tales to Agopian and Aldulescu`s swank,

excerpt When I first met her, she said she adored Pablo Neruda's poetry and La Fontaine's erotic fables, which are un petit secret délicieux and, once a month, she would listen to a fragment of Le Petit Prince, interpreted by Gérard Philippe. She also told me

excerpt Diogenes remembers he was not even ten when, together with other children, he would creep in mock secrecy among the neighbors' maize shocks, particularly if the neighbors in question happened to be in possession of a daughter of marriageable age, known to repair