Men.   An old man drinks his red tea, combs his white hair, sings the love songs of his youth. He has faith in God. The principle is as old as it is simple, but already a revolution.

Two old men drink tea. They speak – to themselves and with each other – of generosity and greed, honesty and dishonesty. The peaceful, familiar conversation hints that they are related.

Old men drinking tea. … Hands, rings, cigarettes. Conversations, songs, deep breaths, the clinking of glasses – and, almost impossible to discern if you haven't already heard it, the sound of a radio searching among the frequencies, searching for another description of reality. Voices from Iraq, from Israel, even from America. Winston tastes good like a cigarette should.

An old man washes his hands. Plastic slippers, tiles of stone, drops of water … – in Super 8, the only one, perhaps the last one. Water runs down the drain. The narrow road lacks rewards.

History taught film to turn back time. Film taught history to catch it in flight. Both move freely between times and places, between long shot and close-up. In the poetics of everyday life they find their common challenge.

Tea in clear glasses. White sugar, brown sugar. Fingers picking absentmindedly at the coarsely cut pieces. – Is God in the sugar cube? One never knows, but some still seem to think so.

"I am a lighthouse on the sea / I catch fire and burn." A streak of light, the spark of recognition, the glow of love. – Is God in the picture? Some still seem to think so.

Voices, numberless, along shores and bridges, on streets and squares. The water's salt, the salt of the earth. – Is God amongst us? Yes, some still seem to think so.

(From: A New Beginning, Catalogue text, by: Andrej Slávik, 2011)