His practice isn’t about style, medium, or market — it’s about collision. Between the personal and the collective. The analog and the algorithm. What you see and what you feel. His art doesn’t offer answers — it unpacks your question and places it back in front of you, rearranged, uncomfortable, and honest. Through text, texture, and tension, Alex builds narratives that are both intimate and universal. His works feel like visual essays, fragments of performance, or encrypted memories. Each piece is an ongoing conversation — and you’re not just a spectator, you’re part of it. He documents and deconstructs the state of the world with a mix of clarity and tenderness, always on the edge between reflection and rupture. Whether exhibiting in a museum or sketching on a napkin in a bar, Alex remains loyal to one thing: the truth of the process. No façades. No compromise. In a scene full of noise, Manea’s voice cuts through — and asks: Are you really paying attention?