Stigmat
Monumental stone work depicting an anatomical fragment—a foot bearing a stigmata mark in the shape of a five-pointed star.
The sculpture rises vertically and is intended as a landmark for viewers, symbolizing the social condition that our country has experienced over the past few decades—a time during which society has struggled to evolve and embrace a new way of life while still carrying the stigma of its communist and totalitarian past. The choice of theme and composition is not accidental, especially in relation to its location near the airport, which serves as a symbol of freedom of movement and transformation. It reminds those who benefit from the current times and enjoy the advantages of a society built with difficulty and great sacrifice not to forget that dark past—and to avoid falling into the traps of extremism and xenophobia.
The massive, dull stone from which the foot is carved stands in stark contrast to the stainless steel stigmata star. This communist-era symbol has a convex, polished surface that gives the impression of being in expansion, despite its small size. The shiny metal catches the eye and fascinates, becoming a focal point. Yet it doesn’t seem to be attached to the form, but rather to emerge from it—like a toxic, liquid metal.
Much like stigmatized saints, Romanians carry the pain and deprivation of the past. But it is precisely these hardships that should make us stronger. Having endured totalitarianism, we must not allow ourselves to be seduced by populism. The work is meant to be a reminder of the sacrifices made by generations.
Costin IONIȚĂ
Costin Ioniță, who was shaped under the influence of two astral masters, Napoleon Tiron and Vasile Gorduz, follows in their footsteps, striving—and succeeding—not to be canonical, or rather, to impose his own canon. At the 2024 edition of the Month of Romanian Sculptors, Costin Ioniță came to Iași with a work that sparked debate, stirred controversy, challenged prejudices, and invited reflection. “Hydra” had the effect of a conceptual reagent.
This year, at the sculpture camp at the Airport, Costin Ioniță once again invites us to contemplate. His work, “Stigmat”, is allegorical and can be interpreted through many hermeneutic lenses. In one reading, the foot pressing down on a megalithic column can be seen as a stigma. Man, by stepping, crushes “the corolla of wonders of the world”, in the words of Lucian Blaga. But why not let our thoughts fly also to that mythic step of astronaut Armstrong, who, stepping on the Moon, exclaimed: "A small step for man, a giant leap for mankind." Costin Ioniță’s sculpture continues to provoke thought, while remaining visually captivating. In his vision, the sign becomes significant—sometimes poetic, other times epic or dramatic.
Grigore ILISEI
In full creative form, the artist—who favors monumental figurative work with classical inspiration—this time starts from the representation of the third "face" that, according to sculptural language, is contained in the human figure: the feet (the first two being the face and the hands). The joints and knobby shapes are exceptionally emphasized, despite the difficulty of the material, and are grandiosely oversized, simulating either a gigantic step forward (or perhaps an equally immense struggle), against a backdrop of exhibitionism that is as involuntary as it is tragic.
The center of focus, however—irresistibly so—is the five-pointed star, made of polished and convex stainless steel, with a liquid appearance that seems to spill over the tarsal bones. The communist star, replacing the nail of the One crucified on the Cross, becomes the stigma that anchors the entire setting in time and space—a point of reflection in itself: in the heart of Moldova, yet at the edge of the country...
Ioan RĂDUCEA