Die Zburător moderni Yuval Shatz, 2025
A body shaped by desire, built to hold too much.
In Romanian folklore, the Zburător is a shapeshifter—a restless spirit born of desire. He appears uninvited, igniting longing in others, then vanishing, leaving only the unrest. He is not just a visitor of dreams, but a reflection of the hunger that defines us—and the consequence it leaves behind.
This modern incarnation doesn’t disappear. He lingers. He poses. He stares back.
Four-armed and wide-legged, his body echoes divinity—but his details betray him. One hand clutches a rifle, another holds roses. A gold watch gleams near his groin. His stomach opens like a drawer, stuffed with cash. He offers love and threat, care and control. His eyes sag beneath the weight of too many performances. A rotting umbilical cord stretches from his navel, reaching somewhere far—still attached, still unresolved.
Die Zburător moderni doesn’t define masculinity—it exposes it. The lover, the provider, the weapon. A body swollen with contradiction. Still holding the pose. Still about to break.