We know the window is a membrane. A lit window is a view onto somebody else's universe. We are immensely attracted by other people's universes, but we are loath to enter them. Human happiness is often based on the idea that the life they live is the only possible life, and although we know that there are other universes, we behave as if they were not there. We love to watch them, but we live as if they did not exist. Why?
A look into a lit window is a voyeur look. The look of the one on the other side of the membrane, of the one who does not belong to the observed. Voyeurs never participate, what defines them as voyeurs is the non-threatened consistency of their universe. The whole traditional European painting is based on this idea of a look into another world. Only our time intensely deals with the idea of participation. Projects asking for participation and drawing you from the safe position of observer still bring uneasiness to the wider audiences. Participation maybe threatens the doubtless uniqueness of one's own universe.
Tomislav Može often doesn't sleep, so he tries to penetrate to those who do not sleep, like he doesn't. But they are not there; there are only lit windows. A shining oblong of windows in the much darker whole of night images looks like perforation. It's a hole, the opening on the membrane of this universe, with a view of something different.
Those openings that radiate in the darkness of night scenes like perforations stress the two-dimensional character of the image. The presence of light openings compacts the photographed space of the street, greenery or pavement lit by the light from the window into two dimensions. That is the flatness of the picture taken.
The illusion of the third dimension is turned upside-down, and it seems to exist "maybe" on this side of the screen that is the image itself. Thus, images become faces whose main content is only glimpsed through the openings, glimpsed through the colours of the light, the expressions of the eye revealing the inside. The images become the face of the photographer. People are invisible, so in the pictures he becomes visible, still alone in his nighttime universe.