The first thing visible in Ioana Florescu's studio is dust.
It settles on the floor, on tools, on unfinished forms and on the cuffs of her coat. It comes from plaster, wax, resin and the slow work of building surfaces only to break them apart again.
Florescu's studio occupies a former industrial room in Cluj-Napoca. There are no finished sculptures on display in the traditional sense. Instead, the space feels like a field of experiments: fragments suspended from the ceiling, sections of moulds, oxidised metal supports and small wax forms that resemble bones, columns or fragile organs.
"I am not interested in making stable objects," she says. "I am interested in the moment before stability disappears."
Her work begins with material resistance. Wax bends. Plaster cracks. Steel carries weight. Rather than hide these behaviours, Florescu makes them visible. A fracture becomes part of the composition. A mark left by pressure becomes a form of drawing.
For her upcoming body of work, Forme Suspendate, she has been developing structures that appear to float while remaining visibly dependent on the mechanisms that hold them.
The result is not illusion. It is tension.
Her sculptures ask the viewer to notice how they stand, what supports them and what might happen if that support were removed. In this way, they become quietly human. They carry the vulnerability of bodies and the authority of architecture at the same time.
"I want the work to feel old and future at once," Florescu says. "Like something found after a civilisation, or something being built before one begins."