A short film created as a spontaneous action of inclusion of a local taxi driver into the conversation of foreign passengers, three friends. Although we didn’t speak the same language as him, in this short moment in time we let the music he likes become our way of silent communication with him. ‘Marjana therras’ is a personal, poetic view of Tirana, where different simultaneous scenes in a symbolic try to evoke different emotions; scenes of old photographs and bucolic nostalgia, contrasted by estranged people on the streets looking at their phones. While I was staying in Tirana I had a strong feeling of empathy towards older, local people. I saw that often they don’t speak any foreign languages, while at the same time, because of economic challenges Albanian people face they are “forced to” work with tourists. As Tirana is rapidly growing and changing, the city center is full of foreigners, both investors and tourists. Local people don’t take a taxi — they take a bus or they drive a taxi. Local people often don’t go out to eat in restaurants — the eat at home or they work in restaurants. Economic differences between local people and foreigners are felt in all areas of life. In Tirana, I had a strong feeling that local people from Tirana often feel as second-grade citizens in their own city, “occupied” by English-speaking foreigners, surrounded by fancy shops and restaurants, which they, local people — can’t afford. This short film is a documentation of one humble effort of trying to make a local taxi driver feel like he’s at home in his own city, by a simple act of showing an interest in his culture through his own personal — music playlist.

The movie is filmed around the streets of suburban districts of Baku. The background voices are from the YouTube interviews/archives about LGBTI+ experiences from the general public and personal archives . Occasionally, different media platforms carry out public surveys and interviews about queer experiences in the streets of Baku and the results are mostly very hateful and alarmingly homophobic and transphobic. Many people see queerness as a major sin or health issue, or just deny the community's existence by just simply ignoring LGBTI+s. The phobia against the community affects trans people and particularly trans sex workers the most and unfortunately, many trans folks are the victims of hate crimes in the country. For the past 5 years, Azerbaijan is ranked as the most dangerous and worst country to live in for LGBTI+s by ILGA-Europe. Rising homophobia and transphobia raise major concerns for the community and the film addresses the realities of public opinions about the queer community.

Ga opi: Natural springs are the lifeline of water security in most of the Himalayan region. People depend on this spring for domestic and irrigation purposes. Nowadays due to climate change and changes in land use, most of the springs are drying up. So, the preservation of such natural springs is crucial for future generations. The video demonstrates a case of how a natural spring had been functioning and how the community came together to save such a natural spring named Ga Opi at Lubhoo, Mahalaxmi municipality, Nepal.

The stories brought to us is history made alive by local elder Natela. With great nostalgia and sadness she tells us about times before when schwabs came to Bolnisi.

Lynetteholm is an artificial island off the coast of copenhagen planned to be finished in 50 years. The project is yet another example of anthropocentric architectural expansion. I expanded it upon the lens of ecofeminism, by putting into question this human urge to colonize the landscape and species living in it. I used essay film as the medium; sometimes footage from Copenhagen zoo, symbolizing the colonial history and human supremacy, blends in with actual footage from the construction site. As the voice-over, I asked a friend of mine, to answer a question: "what would you put on an island if you had an island"?

The booming, architecturally and socially chaotic city of Tirana, Albania, as seen through the eyes of the many stray dogs who, thanks to an ear tags (they are vaccinated and sterilized) live in the streets of downtown, in harmony with the people and their surroundings.

Tbilisi has a lot if underground crossing for pedestrians and it's role and only purpose was to help people cross the roads with intensive car traffic. However, with time they have turned into multifunctional public spaces, places where people communicate with each other - shops, beauty salons, ateliers, pharmacies and many more. At the same time, at night, the underground crossing transforms into absolutely different space - dark and dangerous, especially for women. The film explores the underground crosses from all sides of its multifunctional meanings.

The film is about the city and the citizens leaving the service workers behind. Many people tend to trash the buildings and neighborhoods they live in irresponsibly. In return, there is a big need for service workers and helpers to clean around the mess. Usually, public spaces and most of the buildings are cleaned regularly. It makes the sight seem beautiful and ensures general cleanliness, however, the workers go through really big challenges and bear the load of the hard labor. The worst part is about the payment they get and the public attitude towards the cleaning people and the film addresses these struggles.

The film documents the journey of a coat worn by various people.

Evolved as an audiovisual collaboration, ‘Spectre’ is an artistic depiction of megalopolis tension on an individual. A reflection on urbanization and overpopulation in hyperbolized scale. A ghost of the foreseeable future questioning a significance of one’s role in the giant mechanism. Shot mostly in Kyiv, Ukraine.

The film aims to portrait The New Bazaar: a modern public space; a lively scene with many happenings; inclusive for the people; a space that makes no seggregation between those who visit. But as you look at it, the design itself has no link with the Old Bazaar: the booming point of the whole city of Tirana, that has existed for over 300 years, and was demolished in 1959. As you walk around, the glass structure reflects the old mosque, an element that recalls the fact that before the new buildings composed this space, less than a hundred years ago, other buildings, another bazaar lived there, and they shaped the collective memory of the habitants. But there is no other sign. No translation of the history into the design itself. The film tends to implicate the fact that the new bazaar as a public space has proven to be successful in terms of inclusivity for the people. But it is just as important for the design to represent the history of the old bazaar, which people cared about and remember with nostalgia, but risks to be just a vague memory, and for which new generations 100 years from now will have no idea about.