At first glance, the theme of Gábor Belicza László's most recent series of photographs appears to be about the relationship between nature and humanity. However, in terms of its creation and the manner in which it was made, the series is most closely a visual imprint of the dilemmas present in the artist’s own life. At the same time, his images reflect the tension inherent in humanity’s relationship with nature, pondering in what distorted ways humans treat the natural world.

While the series reflects our relationship with nature, it is not merely one of the many sequences of images depicting climate change or its consequences. For the artist, it is a pretext for expressing his inner anxiety.

Belicza is a talented artist of his generation who has achieved several significant successes. After graduating from the photography department, in addition to his professional photographic works, he has consistently remained within the realm of the photographic medium, striving to strike a balance between commercial photography and his own creative freedom.

At the age of 33, Belicza has reached a pivotal point in his life. He is too modest to visually depict the question of starting a family, his series reflects the emotions of 21st-century man, most notably his own, onto nature. In his visual toolbox and creative attitude, it is important for him to emphasize his visual language of form, which makes his compositions unique. In his words, "the transformation of nature can also be the subject of humanity’s unconditional love"—a line of thought that primarily serves as a diversion from a desired life that he can reach after resolving his own dilemmas.

The 11 photographs on display in the PaperLab Gallery, in Belicza’s interpretation, present to us the hopes and fears associated with an uncertain future.

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The search for order between humanity and nature has perhaps never been so contradictory and tragic. The pursuit of artificial harmony intertwines with my personal struggles, such as the question: Is it the right decision to have children?

In examining the relationship between nature and humanity, I raise questions that are both alarming and fascinating. We often think about nature in extremes: either we approach it with complete humility or with total domination. The removal of living beings from their natural environment, along with the massive scale of human intervention, can be just as pernicious as the instinctive and selfish destruction that is often overlooked. The harm is clearly beyond humility, and the consequences are already perceptible, perhaps even something we experience on a daily basis. We rarely ask ourselves what a child born today will face when they reach the age of eighty. What intrigues me is the reason I am deeply concerned about this issue. I don't want to be just another photographer who draws attention to climate change: we are all aware of it, and yet we observe it from a distance as we become more and more involved.

All of this manifests differently for each individual. My visual response is a long process of self-reflection about what I truly consider important to show. This is almost synonymous with self-indulgence. Nonetheless, my hopeful response to my own question is that the transformed form of nature can also be the subject of humanity's unconditional love. Even if the transformation is not favorable to us, it may ushed in an uncertain future of our stubborn independence.

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