Gypsies opens like a festival three figures hand in hand circling a small fire, their steps lifted by fields of saturated pinks, oranges and acid greens. Joy is the surface. Heat is the motor. Color becomes percussion, pushing the bodies forward.
But the horizon speaks in other registers: wind turbines and a lone lamp post cut the sky with utilitarian green; the land is partitioned by bands of color like zones of permission and refusal. The dancing silhouettes carry the history of movement migration, exclusion, belonging inside their outlines. What first looks like a scene of celebration thickens into a social critique rendered through contrast: communal warmth against infrastructural cold, improvisation against control.
In Gypsies, GUL paints resilience as choreography. The circle around the fire is not an escape; it is a claim. The bodies keep time with an older rhythm, insisting on visibility within an environment that would rather frame them as background. The work asks what kind of progress leaves joy outside its blueprint and answers with color that refuses to dim.