The Center for Openness and Dialogue (COD) at the Prime Minister’s Office unveiled a selection of artistic treasures created over decades by renowned painter Naxhi Bakalli, showcased in an exhibition titled “Eternity.”

“There’s a certain asceticism and romanticism in Naxhi Bakalli’s character that elevates him as a personality, a figure, and an extraordinarily unique individual,” remarked Prime Minister Edi Rama, who attended the exhibition as a guest today.

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Welcome, not for me but for Professor Naxhi. In this emotional moment for him and all his admirers, I want to share with you not so much about his paintings but two personal reflections on my experience with him.

I remember the professor as a dignified, silent figure behind the glass frame of his studio door at the Artistic Lyceum. Because of my height at the time, I would peer through the glass panes and always see him seated at the teacher’s desk, drawing. Whenever I see him now, that memory instantly comes back—and it always feels like I’m stepping back in time, becoming small in front of him once again.

Secondly, every time I watch films with scenes of monks working on illuminated manuscripts or calligraphy, I’m reminded of the professor. If you’ve seen ‘The Name of the Rose’ (Emri i Trendafilit), it’s full of images of monks bent over ancient papers, writing and painting. Those scenes always bring me, him to my mind.

There is also a third moment that ties both aspects together, linking him with his dedication to his art. It’s a moment you can find toward the end of the corridor, where a man and a woman are in bed. This is the romantic postcard of the professor’s unwavering love for his wife.

Today, for the first time at least as long as I can remember—perhaps for the first time ever—I met the professor without his wife being nearby him. I was taken aback and asked him, ‘Where is your love? Where’s your beloved?’ He simply replied, ‘She’s right there.’

Today, his beloved had stepped back slightly to leave the entire stage to her lover.

By sharing this, I think I’ve conveyed something about the inner essence of the man behind these paintings, and what links these pieces together. From the painting here—which, for me, represents one of the acts of subtle defiance from that era, where a familiar motif from life under communism was reinterpreted to smuggle in a vision that was entirely counter against the formula of socialist realism—all the way to his latest works, which marks an advanced point on a journey that began with that piece.

And when you connect the paintings to the artist and the person himself, everything becomes perfectly clear.

“There is an asceticism and a romanticism in Naxhi Bakalli’s character that makes him a personality, a figure, and an extraordinarily unique individual.

The last thing I want to say, Professor, is this: I’ve only seen you without your legendary beret on two occasions. Once, when you sat at that desk near the window in the classroom, with the beret resting there like Skanderbeg’s helmet after returning from battle. The other is in that painting over there at the end. Look at that painting—it’s him, but of course, he can’t lie in bed wearing a beret. That painting, I hadn’t seen it before; I think I saw it for the first time yesterday morning when I walked in. It’s one of the most beautiful declarations of love that can be made through art.

So, may you continue to be in love for many years ahead, Professor. And you will be, because you’re not someone who gives up. May you keep this inner light and passion for many more years to come, the passion that keeps you bent over your painting. A romantic ascetic.

Thank you so much for being here today—I deeply appreciate it.

I hope and wish that everyone enjoys this exhibition. It’s a beautiful display of lines and colors, and I hope you leave here feeling even better, thanks to Naxhi Bakalli, but also, thanks to those who made this exhibition possible—whom the Professor so graciously thanked.

Thank you very much!”