Many architectural elements are intricate and intentional, patiently waiting to be noticed by passersby or admirers. Yet, with time, these details begin to deteriorate, gradually losing the identity they were meant to express. As decay sets in, a new character emerges—one we, as casual wanderers, often overlook in our daily routines.
This particular building stands on a quiet central street in Sofia, seen by thousands but rarely truly observed. It rises as a proud mansion, its facade adorned with secession-style ornamentation and layered terraces that speak of craftsmanship, history, and care. For years, I passed it without pause. To me, it was one of those buildings destined never to receive the restoration it deserves. The materials crumble, exposing the brickwork beneath, while the wooden canopy above takes on the raw hues of natural decay. It deserves to be returned to its former glory—yet somehow, in its state of elegant ruin, it has entered a new phase of existence. It stands now in the still, quiet company of the forgotten buildings of my city—silent, dignified, and full of untold stories.
"In the drawing, I filled the empty spaces with static, imperfect dots—symbols of material decay—threatening to one day disintegrate and erase the building’s identity. I used depth and shadow to maintain a strong sense of intensity throughout the composition. As I worked, I kept referring to the photograph I had taken, absorbing its details and translating them onto the paper."
"In the drawing, I filled the empty spaces with static, imperfect dots—symbols of material decay—threatening to one day disintegrate and erase the building’s identity. I used depth and shadow to maintain a strong sense of intensity throughout the composition. As I worked, I kept referring to the photograph I had taken, absorbing its details and translating them onto the paper."
"What began on a single A4 sheet soon outgrew its bounds; I extended the drawing vertically with another A4 page, realizing the work still had more to say. Once the finer architectural details were complete, I felt the presence of the photograph itself was needed—not as a direct translation, but as a physical fragment. I introduced a collage—cutting, layering, and integrating parts of the original image. These static lines became representations of emptiness and void, allowing the building to push forward, proudly occupying the foreground of the piece."
The piece is a drawing collage that was made with ink on silk pure white paper (washi), PVC and frosted polyester paper. The photograph used for the collage was made and printed by the author.
Dimensions: 700 x 300 mm.
Process video:
The piece is a drawing collage that was made with ink on silk pure white paper (washi), PVC and frosted polyester paper. The photograph used for the collage was made and printed by the author.
Dimensions: 700 x 300 mm.
Process video:
