Let’s embark on a journey of discovery, between nature and memory, between light and shadow.
A few lines to guide you through an exhibition that is a constant dialogue between poetry and reflection, between the natural world and human imagination. Each work is a fragment of a larger story, an invitation to view reality from different perspectives.
The Sun’s journey, a branch that finds new meanings, leaves that safeguard humanity: these are testimonies to a cycle that renews itself, where fragility and strength intertwine. Here, past and present merge, revealing the balance between what fades and what remains.
As you turn these pages, let yourself be led through an experience that celebrates the power of creativity and the value of gift-giving, unveiling the hidden richness in the simplest forms of life.
CATALOGUE
A small catalogue has been produced for the exhibition, featuring an in-depth essay titled The Thread That Binds Everything.
This edition, printed in 250 copies in Italian, is available free of charge.
Here a digital PDF version with the text translated into English.
Guided visit available for November 16th, 4pm
Reserve your spot
+39 02 9570 1237
oneroom.books@gmail.com
EXHIBITION
ROOM ONE
Here Then, there now
Fiat Lux: Time, Light, and Perception
Sunlight takes about eight minutes to travel from the Sun to the Earth, a brief interval that connects the vastness of space with our immediate experience. In this series, Dovilė Dagienė uses this cosmic journey as a framework to explore the nature of time, space, and how we perceive reality.
Each photograph in the series is, in fact, a double exposure, capturing sunlight with an exact eight-minute interval between the two shots. This method transcends the traditional static image, incorporating the irreversible flow of physical time into a single frame. In doing so, it challenges our conception of photography as a mere snapshot of isolated moments.
By uniting minutes, centimeters, and light years on a single scale, the series invites us to contemplate our place in the universe. It juxtaposes the infinitesimal with the infinite, highlighting how our everyday experiences are inherently linked to cosmic processes.
Combining astrophysical concepts with traditional black-and-white photography, Dagienė bridges science with visual representation. This integration suggests that understanding reality requires a multidisciplinary approach, blending empirical knowledge with experiential intuition. It emphasizes how our perception is shaped not only by direct sensory experience but also by the tools and concepts we use to interpret the world.
In an era where our internal images of reality are increasingly constructed through mediated experiences—often via photographs and screens rather than direct contact with the physical world—the series urges us to question the nature of these representations. It raises awareness of how technology influences our perceptions, illuminating certain aspects of reality while potentially obscuring others.
Here then, there now serves as a bridge between the immediate and the infinite. It invites reflection on the flow of time and the ways we construct our inner images of the world. Through engagement with these concepts, we are encouraged to look beyond surface impressions and delve deeper into the underlying processes that shape our existence.
The Song of a Sunbeam
I am the Sun,
the spark that begins the day.
From my fiery heart, an energy is born, expanding, freeing itself, taking the shape of light.
I am the warmth that caresses the earth,
the breath that awakens the buds
and warms the steps of those who walk.
Each ray I send is a traveler.
It crosses the infinite, taking eight minutes
to reach you, here, on this patch of earth. It races swiftly, skimming the clouds, playing with shadows.
It carries with it the story of a distant time,
of an unbridgeable distance that becomes a caress on your skin, a glimmer in your eyes.
But my journey does not end.
When night falls,
I hide only to prepare a new dawn.
Light comes and goes,
a circle that closes to open once again,
a promise I renew with each new day.
I am the tale of time,
the cycle that connects sky and earth,
the force that awakens.
ROOMS TWO AND THREE
Boy with a stick
Rediscovering Wonder:
The Transformative Power of Imagination
Children possess an extraordinary ability to see the world not only for what it is but for what it could be, a place rich with infinite possibilities.
In Boy with a Stick, Dovilė Dagienė captures this innate capacity to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary through the simple act of play. Spread across the next two rooms, the series invites us to embark on a journey into the boundless realm of childlike imagination.
A simple stick, once part of a living tree, finds new life in the hands of a child. It becomes a sword for epic adventures, a magic wand to cast spells, or a tool to discover hidden treasures. The stick symbolizes more than just an object; it is a vehicle for discovery, embodying the potential to transform the mundane into something magical.
Through free play, children develop critical thinking skills, learn about their environment, and begin to navigate the complexities of the world around them. The series highlights the importance of nurturing imagination, not only in childhood but throughout life, as a way to fuel curiosity, adaptability, and a deeper understanding of our place in the world.
Boy with a Stick also prompts us to reflect on our relationship with nature.
The interaction between the child and the natural object underscores a connection to the environment, a reminder of the simplicity and joy found in direct engagement with the world around us. In an era where technology often dominates our experiences, this work encourages a return to the tangible, emphasizing the value of real-world interactions in personal growth and awareness.
Moreover, the series invites us to contemplate humanity’s journey. Just as children are newcomers who learn and grow, humanity itself is relatively young in the timeline of evolution. This perspective suggests that, as a species, we still have much to learn about our role on this planet. Through imagination and a willingness to explore, we can hope to develop greater awareness, cultivate empathy, and find innovative ways to address the challenges ahead.
By celebrating the spirit of curiosity and the transformative power of imagination, Boy with a Stick encourages us to reconnect with that sense of wonder.
It invites us to see the extraordinary possibilities within the ordinary and embrace the potential for growth and positive change.
The Song of a Branch
I was a branch, stretched between sky and earth,
joined to my tree, I lived on the light of the Sun.
I grew, reaching upward,
part of the great breath of the forest.
Then, one day, I fell.
Not an end, but a return.
I landed on the soil,
among the moss and roots.
I waited, listening.
I could still feel the call of life,
the tremor running through me.
I was no longer a branch reaching for the sky,
but I was not finished. I was simply changing.
And it was a hand that found me.
It lifted me, carried me along.
In its fingers, I discovered new forms.
No longer part of the tree, but a possibility.
A stick that becomes a path,
a trace of play and adventure.
And when the hand lets me go,
perhaps I will return to the earth.
I will lie there, waiting,
knowing my journey is not over.
I will be nourishment for the roots that gave me life,
I will become sap, closing the circle.
Always ready to be reborn.
The Song of a Hand
I walk among the trees,
the ground covered in leaves and branches.
I pick one up, holding it between my fingers.
It’s light, it seems like a simple piece of wood,
but I see more.
It’s a fragment of the world,
a story waiting to be told.
With it, I draw paths in the air, trace invisible boundaries. It’s my companion,
the tool with which I explore all that is unseen.
It helps me build new worlds,
it’s a key that opens the gate to imagination.
Every branch I find is a different world.
Together, we walk paths others cannot see.
And when I return home,
the branch is my treasure.
It’s not just wood I’ve gathered, but a gift.
A fragment of the journey I carry with me,
the gesture that holds
all that I have yet to discover.
ROOM FOUR
Memories of plants
Memory Imprinted in Nature
Memories of Plants explores the profound intertwining of memory, history, and the natural world. In this evocative series, Dovilė Dagienė impresses images of Jewish children from the time of the Nazi occupation in Lithuania onto delicate plant leaves.
These leaves, fragile yet resilient, become living memorials that silently bear witness to the atrocities of the past.
By transferring these poignant images onto an organic material, the work blurs the boundaries between human experience and nature. The leaves go through cycles of growth and decay, symbolizing both the transience and continuity of life. This fusion underscores life’s vulnerability even before memory itself, how life can fade over time, yet how it persists, despite forces that seek to erase it.
Memories of Plants invites us to reflect on how the natural world retains the imprints of our collective history. By merging human likeness with elements of nature, it suggests that memories are not confined to human constructs but are woven into the very fabric of the environment. The work raises questions about how we preserve history, the fragility of memory, and our responsibility to honor and learn from the past.
The series also addresses themes of human cruelty and the resilience of life. The images of the children represent lives tragically cut short, yet their presence on the leaves symbolizes a legacy that endures. This contrast highlights the tension between fragility and strength, between despair and hope. It serves as a powerful reminder of the atrocities that have marked humanity, urging us to remember the lessons held within these stories.
Engaging with these delicate works, viewers are encouraged to contemplate the importance of remembrance and the impact of history on our present and future.
Memories of Plants embodies a silent dialogue between past and present, nature and humanity, loss and continuity. It inspires empathy and invites us to recognize and confront the enduring echoes of history in the contemporary world.
The Song of a Leaf
I drift down slowly with my companions,
the leaves.
We graze the air, settling onto the earth
like a whisper seeking rest.
We are keepers of a time that has paused,
the face of those who are no more.
Each of us carries a mark,
a trace of what once was.
We tell of children,
of lives that felt the warmth of the sun and the embrace of the wind,
only to fall too soon.
When the wind brushes past,
the leaves speak,
a silent murmur moving through the forest.
We leaves do not truly die.
We rest upon the earth, nourishing it.
We become part of the roots,
woven into a cycle that never ends.
The trees hold us close, preserving our memory.
We are the remembrance of a world that endures,
the whisper of a past mingling with the present.
The Song of a Face
It’s me, a portrait. A face captured, an echo of life,
imprinted on a fragile surface.
My story has never been told in words,
but it reflects on this leaf that now holds me.
I am an image, yet within me lies the memory
of a time, of a life.
On the leaf, I am etched as a fragment,
a passage between humanity and nature.
I exist because someone wanted to keep me here, because there’s a desire not to forget.
I am the face of a child,
the mark of a life cut too short.
I look at myself through the leaf that shelters me.
I am fragile, destined to fade.
Yet I am alive. In my reflection, there’s a story.
I am an image longing to be remembered,
not for what I represent, but for what I suggest: that memory can find new forms,
new places where it can endure.
Here I am, part of the natural world, and
through this leaf, I speak.
Not with words, but with the silence of one who has lived
and still has something to say.
