The work “Alo, Alo!” is a small object, a kind of music box. From the depths of the black fur cap we can hear the voice belonging to Nicolae Ceausescu. This is a lopped fragment of his last public speech. Rambling talk, ragged scream “Alo!”, slipping down to mumbling. The cry of revolution is concentrated in pauses of this speech and above to burst through. The only thing that reminds a former greatness is a luxurious black fur cap.