The second narrative unfolds through the choreography of the exposition: through newly created display cases and previously made installation objects that Anghel arranges in a deliberate constellation. Together, these elements offer insight into her thinking process. It is worth noting that every element of The Blind Man operates simultaneously as a commentary on the private and the public. Two neighbouring display cases illustrate this duality. The artwork entitled Vessel addresses the fear circulating within the public sphere – how political and social power structures employ images to shape collective imagination, and how moral blindness becomes one of the fundamental mechanisms of authority. Those who construct dominant narratives often choose to look away from suffering. Women who occupy public roles are particularly exposed: their bodies and images become targets of judgement. The knife piercing the display, lodged in the chest of an enigmatic figure, symbolises this exposure. Cold, sharp, situated at eye level, it appears as a trophy, as evidence, as an instrument – and fetish of power. It becomes a metaphor for both symbolic and physical male violence directed towards women in public life. By contrast, Love transports us into the domestic sphere, where violence remains largely unseen. The bed – associated with intimacy and affection – conceals a baseball bat beneath its hollowed-out frame, a symbol rooted in control, territoriality and a sense of ownership. Anghel does not accuse; she has no expectations. Instead, she asks how we perceive and interpret anomalies.

The viewer is not a passive observer but an active participant: entering the constellation, shifting elements, composing their own sequences. In this way The Blind Man extends beyond the gallery space, as evidenced by additional conceptual notes.