The world of stories created by Ilona Koroman opens at the moment when foreign intimacy becomes an image. Each aperture reveals a fragment of reality filled with anticipation of what is about to happen. Shadows and light shape an environment where an atmosphere of unease and restlessness, as well as a sense of solitude, emerges. The perception of closeness to others reflects one’s own desires. The result is a visual play between what is seen and what remains hidden, between the allure of mystery and the futile attempts to uncover it.
Ilona Koroman’s painting (b. 1998) becomes a medium of intimacy and intensified looking. The title of her exhibition evokes a situation in which one peers into someone else’s life through a narrow aperture—an opening reduced to a minimum, yet all the more treacherous and potentially dangerous because of it. Her paintings present fragments of reality captured at the moment when the boundary between the private and the public begins to dissolve. The keyhole further functions as a metaphor for a gaze that is never neutral, but always tied to desire, intention, or at the very least to an ungoverned curiosity.
Ilona Koroman understands the image as a filter that simultaneously reveals and conceals, much like a camera that frames a scene and thus determines what may be seen and what must remain hidden. The atmosphere of the cycle may recall Alfred Hitchcock’s film Rear Window, in which voyeurism becomes a means of deliberately uncovering concealed events. Similarly, Koroman places the viewer in the position of an observer who follows sequences of situations and fragmentary narratives without access to their full context. Such a condition sharpens attention and gives rise to unexpected emotions, a sense of tension, and inner unease. Her visual approach loosely refers to the visual poetics of Edward Hopper, whose paintings depict solitary figures in interiors immersed in silence and light that both reveals and isolates. Koroman’s works similarly engage with the contrast of light and shadow, a peculiar, almost spectral atmosphere, and the feeling that each scene is merely a fragment of a roader, ultimately ungraspable story. At times this story may be a simple reflection of everyday life; at others, it may capture something essential that nonetheless escapes our understanding.
The exhibition Through the Keyhole also opens up the question of the act of seeing itself. Observation becomes an experience that is not only aesthetic but also existential. The viewer is confronted with their own role and with the fact that watching someone is never innocent; every gaze is therefore both alienating and mirroring at once. Ilona Koroman creates a space in which intimacy turns into a shared experience, and where the boundary between observer and observed quietly dissolves.
