How did the EXIT project come to life?
I’ve always photographed them. Traveling the world for years, I was inexplicably drawn to EXIT signs—they had a magnetic pull. I had to take pictures, without knowing why at the time.
It was never my intention to turn EXIT into an art project—it happened organically. Before, after, and sometimes even during my film shoots, I found myself capturing EXIT signs because they resonated with me in ways I couldn’t quite explain.
The artworks emerged on their own. It wasn’t until the first piece sold at Art NYC—through gallerist Rudolf Budja—that I realized I had created something significant.
What does EXIT mean to you?
EXIT is life. Everything has an exit.
Whether it’s small moments, journeys, daily situations—everything comes to an end, and with that, something new begins.
EXIT is an attitude. A mindset of deciding for yourself what you think, what you feel. In today’s world, we are often too distracted to notice the details of life. For me, EXIT is the option to always be able to make a decision.
These images reflect a long period of my life, and each one tells a story. Each one takes me back to the moment I captured it. EXIT is often visually striking, shaped by light and surroundings. At this point, I still notice EXIT signs, but I no longer feel the need to photograph them—the collection has been complete since 2018.
Now, I focus on perceiving the world in its details, exploring new ideas for both photography and video art that align with my aesthetic.
Was there something you were trying to escape?
Things often move too slowly for me—I’m incredibly impatient.
During my travels, I was constantly dealing with logistical and creative challenges, usually under time pressure. The world often feels like that for many people—a constant demand to make decisions, but not always the freedom to do so.
EXIT, to me, is freedom—the ability to choose between one thing and another.
From a creative standpoint, working in television and film meant always delivering a product—something commercially viable and successful. EXIT was my escape, my addiction in the midst of work. Every time I completed a task in a new place, I went searching for the perfect EXIT sign.
At some point, I wasn’t even looking anymore—I simply started to notice them selectively. That’s how EXIT was born.
You mention your father, a four-star general. How has he influenced your work?
As the son of a soldier, you quickly learn to build your own world.
We moved every two years. By the time I was 15, I had moved nine times. Exits have always been a part of my life—one leading to the next.
My father is an impressive and proud man. He wanted to be a conductor but chose the life of a soldier instead. Despite that, he exposed me to the arts—concerts, theater, opera, classical music, blues, jazz. He and my mother gave me access to the beauty of the art world from an early age.
I’ve always been drawn to visual details. I remember my father’s uniforms—small, colorful insignias fascinated me. That sense of selective perception, of reducing the world to essential details, shaped the way I see things today.
But more than that, my father played a critical role in bringing peace to Kosovo. He gave the country, the war, and the people an EXIT—a way out of destruction. I have immense respect for that. EXIT, when used as a strategy, can be powerful.
Do you think your father laid the foundation for your fascination with imagery?
Absolutely. I’m the youngest in my family, and from early childhood, I was shown our family history through Super 8 films.
One year of footage was from the U.S.—a time I hadn’t been born yet. That was the moment I knew I wanted to capture life through films and photography, just like my father did. That passion became my career.
Maybe that’s also why I feel at home in the U.S., even though my life in Europe is great.
You take photographs, but you’re fascinated by moving images. How do you see the relationship between the two?
When I think, I think in moving pictures. I’ve always been restless.
Photography allowed me to experience and capture the here and now. While my love for filmmaking is still strong, photography is simpler and more immediate.
Filmmaking requires planning—organization, crews, actors, communication. The process is complex.
Photography, on the other hand, is pure instinct. I take a picture whenever and wherever I want, capturing my perception of the moment. I don’t plan my shots. I don’t seek out subjects—they find me. That’s why photography has become my greater passion.
That being said, I’m currently working with a friend on films that integrate my EXIT photographs. Each image appears for just one frame, with a faint, diffused EXIT sign always visible in the background. The speed of the images mirrors my past restlessness, while the EXIT in the background represents the present moment—the here and now.
There are exactly 1,024 EXIT photographs. So far, 44 films have been created from them.
EXIT is also an entrance. Is it this transition between spaces or worlds that fascinates you?
The transition between spaces is something we either notice—or don’t. It happens infinitely, all the time.
It’s true—EXIT is always also an entrance. Life is made up of countless moments and experiences, each with its own EXIT.
But for me, EXIT is more than a physical transition. It’s the passage between two worlds—not just the one we physically experience, but the one we think and feel.
During my travels, I was physically present, but mentally elsewhere. Moving from airport to airport, through security, onto a plane, into a taxi, a hotel, a shoot, another taxi, a bar—always in motion, always engaged in communication. Present, yet absent.
EXIT taught me to be conscious of where I am. No matter the stress, the challenges, or the chaos, I decide how I feel.
EXIT reminds me: I am free.
What promise does EXIT hold?
That there is always a way forward.
EXIT after EXIT.
It’s part of the cycle of existence.
At the end of the day, it’s progress.
No stagnation.
Growth.
Is this the start of an artistic career?
That’s not for me to decide. I take photos and make films—I always have, and I always will.
I never set out to have an artistic career. The circumstances of chance led to EXIT coming to life.
Rudolf Budja, who represents me in Miami, NYC, Vienna, and Salzburg, worked with Andy Warhol and Basquiat. Whether that makes this a career, I don’t know. And honestly, it doesn’t matter.
Being exhibited at major international art fairs is an honor and a lot of fun. It feels right to create art that is taken seriously.
Right now, alongside my films, I’m working with a curator, an author, and an independent art publisher in Berlin to create a book about EXIT.
What kind of artistic career do you envision? Any role models?
As a kid, I wanted to play guitar like Slash—to have his effortless cool. If I could create anything, I’d probably be a musician. Slash was my hero.
But role models? Not really.
I take what I perceive and show it as I see it—in that moment.
It’s the details that fascinate me. They surround us all. We often overlook them simply because they’re there—like EXIT.
