For the first ten years of her life, Buga Cvjetanović has spent most of her summers in her mother's family house in Nerežišće on the island of Brač. With the death of her grandfather, in 1999, summer stays were drastically reduced, almost completely vanished. Due to the family circumstances, the house has since been empty, as if time stopped at that moment, ventilated from time to time, but the contents, furniture and all other items have not been touched. With the grandfather's departure, her life was cut short, and she has been in a state of hibernation for the past twenty years. Buga has grown up and as she finishes photography studies at ADU she is now visiting the house again with her camera. A rare case, to go back twenty years ago, we do not often have the opportunity to find ourselves in a space that has remained unchanged after so much time, especially when that space made a huge impact on our childhood, a time when objects were alive as the adults no longer perceive them to be. We observe two manifestations of the same time,  for Buga time passed gradually but shaping her current, adult experience of reality, and for the house the time stood still. As if she was patiently waiting for the former child to visit again, as if she knew that a photographic view could evoke that long gone experience: long afternoon as she watched the sun's rays break through closed shutters or when her grandfather put his hand on her shoulder saying: my darling granddaughter.

The central element of the exhibition could be the author's photographic book in which the portrait of the current situation is conceptually placed within the framework of the past. The book opens with a photograph of her father, Boris Cvjetanović, taken in 1991, which shows a large family at the table, and Buga taking her first steps in the children's fence on the terrace of the house and closes with the photos of her as a young girl and her mother, father and grandfather on the same terrace (1998).

Although, given this framework, the book could be declared a family photo album, the author identifies it as a family (anti) album, because unlike the common ones, its content does not represent pictures of a family life, but the space many years after life stopped unfolding. Its material markings are associative windows into the past, but while on the one hand they open a time portal, on the other hand there is irrefutable evidence of its closedness. Her grandfather is long gone, but so is her childhood.

Although the revisit must evoke memories, although the shots isolate their specific generators, she is no longer inside but on the outside, behind the lens, responsible to the photographic view, which in fact illustrates the temporal distance. In a kind of dialogue with the personal inheritance, we also discover fragments of the dialogue with the family heritage that has meanwhile become public. To be precise, it is difficult to find motives that her father, Boris Cvjetanović, has not already photographed. In particular, elements of the same interior appear in "Scenes without significance", but as she says herself, the spaces in the house as well as everything in it have become scenes with significance; time has changed the reading of the same objects. For example, Buga replies to Boris's black-and-white photograph of a chandelier in the bedroom with a shot of the same chandelier, from a slightly different perspective, but with one part broken.

Apart from the fact that all photographs represent still time in the past, and through that the stillness refers only to life and though that the fact of mortality has been established, the dimension of time is emphasized by the evidence of the moment when time stopped. There is still the 1999 calendar; in the place where the paint fell off back then, the same year is handwritten on the wall, and below are the signatures of Markita, Buga and Boris. Time is also announced through its former meters, several alarm clocks are stored on a shelf in the closet.
Time takes the lead in the projection of photos in the format of a time lapse which represents the journey of the Sun's rays on the bed, wall and door, which move like a sundial, until they are stopped by night.

A photographic walk through the family home is actually a walk through a museum of authentic exhibits. Clothing, furniture, its layout, decorative details, framed photos and crucifixes on the wall, chimney from the stove, plastic extension on the kitchen faucet, shaving brush, bathroom cabinet, tile design, Obodin's refrigerator with stickled pictures, and even dried paint sheets on the carpet falling from the walls or ceiling, it all seems like a spatio-temporal pattern illustrating the worldview, circumstances and the way of life on the Dalmatian islands in the second half of the twentieth century. The light situation also contributes to the impression, deep shadows with sharply contrasted and clearly shaped light intrusions testify of the house defended from the outside heat.

But museum visitors would be deprived of what going through the book allows, to focus on certain details of an obviously personal nature which, however, further corroborate the authenticity of the exhibit. For example, seeing the back of the postcard that eight-year-old Buga from Žuljana sends to Nerežišće to her grandparents, which they keep behind glass in the cupboard where the coffee utensils are and has obviously more the role of a showcase than a usable one, hence her postcard is displayed. In the adjacent compartment are cups, also behind glass, and next to them a pacifier visibly placed as confirmation that it is no longer needed, that at one point the replacement was discarded, as a marker of a particular stage in growing up. There is also a ceremoniously dressed doll that is missing a piece of its head, tucked next to a bundle of books from which only the edges of some covers are visible, by which we still recognize the editor „Vjeverica“  so to conclude that this part of the closet was a children's corner. Then we dive into the space of imagination, unlike the ambientally portrayed parts of the exhibition, one photo represents a frame on a part of the picture, probably hung above the bed: girls dressed in light dresses dance happily on a flower meadow, so to say, an ideal scene for falling asleep.

Buga probably remembers what she dreamed of watching their dance, just as she remembers why the doll is missing a piece of the head, so apart from the fact that these examples have a concrete history in terms of her growing up and become artifacts at the museum level, they are also fully active at the story level. under the name "My darling granddaughter". A story in which a personal case is the bearer of an unusual narrative line which ‘through the reflections of time and people who exist no more’ actually speaks of an attempt to face the ending.

The photo book takes the format of the ‘active’ portrayal of the gallery exhibition. There are photographs of individual exhibits and light installations, details alternate with depictions of larger parts of the space, with details playing a major role in the development of the story, and wider shots using light to stage the ambience. Informative tasks are solved by the author: by attitude, and often through mirrors, by the apparent replacement of the first and second plan; a composition that often relies on light-defined surfaces; and finally, with the frame, which treats the semantic elements contextually, so it is difficult to determine whether the delayed pacifier is an intruder between the glasses or the glasses are just an audience for her performance. Or the visual reasons determined the form of their communication.