Quid Ultra? asks a simple question with an infinite horizon: what lies beyond the visible? In these three photographs from Croatia, Nuremberg and Trier, Nataša Segulin treats light not as revelation but as an instrument of inquiry. The images don’t answer the question. They approach it, circle it, and invite me to consider the places where perception dissolves into intuition.

The first photograph from Murter is almost a monochrome field, interrupted only by a narrow vertical band of crimson fading into black. It feels like a threshold, a curtain pulled slightly aside. The color is unexpected in Segulin’s work, almost bodily, like a pulse or a wound. It seems to suggest that what lies beyond is not always serene. Sometimes the beyond arrives as intensity.

In the photograph from the Zeppelintribüne in Nuremberg, a row of circular illuminations reveals the fractured surface of the stone. The lights appear like ancient marks returning through the dark. The image holds a historical charge. Architecture built to impose power becomes a surface that resists deciphering. Shadows reclaim it. Light touches it but refuses to glorify it. What lies beyond here is memory, unsettling and unresolved.

The final image, from Trier’s Porta Nigra, is a study in pure line. Three delicate white edges form descending angles across a black void. The structure is reduced to its skeleton. It resembles a diagram, or a gesture of thought. It is both architecture and abstraction, as if Segulin were showing us the moment when a material form crosses into idea.

Taken together, these photographs offer a quiet metaphysics. They move between the real and the abstract with the same ease that our own inner life moves between sensation and reflection. Darkness in these images is not negation; it is the space where meaning gathers before it becomes visible. Light acts as an opening, a narrow invitation to look more carefully at what is often overlooked.

Quid Ultra? Doesn’t claim to reveal what lies beyond. Instead, it teaches us how to approach the question. With patience, with humility, with the understanding that the surface of the world is never the whole story. Segulin seems to suggest that the beyond is found in the smallest shift of tone, the faintest edge of illumination, the quiet insistence of a line that refuses to disappear.

Jorge R. G. Sagastume