After Ion Raţiu’s death in 2000, the family decided to donate his personal library, including Viorel Virgil Tilea’s library, which Raţiu had previously inherited, to BCU Cluj-Napoca. In the period from 2006 to 2008, the books gradually came into the custody of BCU and were registered. On 5 June 2009, the Raţiu–Tilea reading room at BCU Cluj-Napoca, which became the repository space for the collection, was opened to the public in the presence of members of the Raţiu family. The festivity marked thirty years since the opening of the Raţiu Foundation in London. In his speech, Nicolae Raţiu, the son of Ion Raţiu, emphasised the symbolic component of the transfer of the collection to BCU Cluj-Napoca, the place where his father gave his first speech about democracy in Romania in January 1990. During this festive opening, the members of the Raţiu family gave the donation deed to Professor Doru Radosav, the head of BCU Cluj-Napoca.

The Museum of Contemporary Art moved to a newly built building in 2009. The new Museum was opened on December 9, and with its opening the Museum also presented its permanent display. The permanent display bears the name Collections in Motion, and it also includes works/work from the "Exploitation of the Dead" cycle by Mladen Stilinović.

The presentation of works/work from "Exploitation of the Dead" in the permanent display at the Museum of Contemporary Art gives him a continuous presence on the art scene and thus increases its availability to a wider audience and popularity.  

The publication of this book marked the moment when Gyimesi opened up about her experiences of being confronted with, reading, and processing the secret police “collection” of files on her person. The book launch event took place on 18 November 2009 in the Tranzit House in Cluj-Napoca, within the framework of a series of events called “The Human Pyramid: Discussions about Party State Dictatorship.” Gyimesi tries to understand the mechanisms of the dictatorship in her capacity as a piece in a chain, as the subject of a top-down system. She tries to offer insight into the secret police mode of operation outlined in the texts of the first volume of her informative file, presenting the victims of a society totally controlled by the party-state, as well as the collaboration with the system, trying to locate herself and other figures in the larger picture. The selected word is hermeneutical in the broadest sense of the word with the author refraining from a closer, more in-depth study of the texts on file. At the same time the secret police files are not reliable from the hermeneutical point of view, because the secret police officers in question interpreted things in such a manner as to offer their superiors the materials they liked to receive. Gyimesi was interested to learn what factual and literary theoretical points of view can be identified upon a subsequent reading of such a material. Obviously she takes into consideration their value as documents, however, her particular way of thinking and approach drives her to also use this material professionally. Her volume is an attempt at doing this and it is also interesting from the point of view of reading theory to see how she returns to these, how she finds her way in them and, practically, the levels at which she creates connections in the meantime (István Berszán’s statement). When reconstructing the past, Gyimesi avoids being trapped in those points of view the Securitate set out to follow, and tries to keep the Securitate from determining what should be said and remembered even decades after the events. By making comments, Gyimesi relates to these records, introduces subsequent knowledge and references to their interpretation, thus questioning also the set of criteria applied in these documents; this is another aspect of relating hermeneutics to the documents (József Imre Balázs’s statement). Gyimesi’s undisguised aim with this book was to set an impediment in the way of nationwide oblivion which ultimately eliminates responsibility on the part of those supporting and serving dictatorship. Last but not least, she tries to raise some empathy in the reader towards those who were once monitored and harassed, and to bring the younger generations who have not known dictatorship, closer to understanding the degree of past “freedom.” According to her, the files are unsuitable for granting access to the “truth” about the secret police as an institution. Their language is defined by the ideologically biased, “official” image of reality of the actors involved (officers, collaborators, informers, etc.), the “robot image” created of the target person and the flesh-and blood person are not identical (Cs. Gyimesi 2009).

The event was organised by Braşov Art Museum for the 125^th anniversary of the birth of the artist. On this occasion the museum displayed sixty–four works of art (sculptures, paintings, and graphic works) created by Mattis-Teutsch, gathered from several Romanian museums (the Brukenthal National Museum Sibiu, the Székely National Museum in Sfântu Gheorghe, the Criş Country Museum in Oradea, and the Arad Museum Complex) and various private collections. The exhibition illustrated the artistic evolution of Hans Mattis-Teutsch in the period from 1910 to 1939 by emphasising his connections with the artistic avant-garde movements in Europe. Special attention was paid to his collaborations with the Hungarian avant-garde movement associated with the magazine Ma, the Romanian avant-garde movements of Contimporanul and Integral, and German Der Sturm.

Herta Müller’s book Cristina und ihre Attrappe oder Was (nicht) in den Akten der Securitate steht (Cristina and her dummy: What is (not) written in the Securitate’s files) was published in 2009. The book contains her thoughts regarding the informative file that the Securitate created against her name in 1983. “Cristina,” as Herta Müller was code-named by the Securitate, came to the unwanted attention of Romanian secret police because her literary works allegedly distorted “the social-economic realities (…) especially in rural areas” and misrepresented and sometimes openly mocked the local state and Party authorities. After introducing the foreign reader to the legal and political constraints that for ten years prevented her from reading the file created on her by the Romanian secret police, Herta Müller underlines that the documents included in her three-volume informative file do not capture all the facets of the surveillance organised by the Securitate against her. Moreover, some of the abuses committed against her by its officials, such as bullying, beatings, or home violations are not even mentioned in her file. Using as a starting point the content of her informative file, Herta Müller engages in a discussion at length about the persecutions she was subjected to by the Securitate and how these episodes were reflected or not even mentioned in the documents it created. She describes how her problems with the Romanian secret police began at the end of the 1970s when, while working as a German-language translator at a factory in Timișoara, she turned down the Securitate’s proposal to become its informer. As a result of her refusal she was fired and the Romanian secret police continued to harass her and prevented her from finding a job. None of these events left traces in her file. Herta Müller also approaches the topic of her direct surveillance by the Securitate prior to and after the publication of her first book Niederungen (Nadirs) at a publishing house in West Berlin in 1984 and how the Securitate supplemented their physical abuse against her with psychological abuse. Again she underlines the fact that the documents in her informative file mention none of these episodes. Also omitted from her Securitate file are other events that could be used as incriminating evidence against Securitate officials, such as the beating of a German journalist who tried but failed to visit her, the death of one of her close friends, the organisation of their surveillance of her while she was abroad, etc. Herta Müller also expresses her anger at the Securitate’s violation of her private life through the installation of microphones in her house (even in the bedroom) and her mixed feelings about the recruitment of some of her friends as sources and informers of the Romanian secret police.

Greek Church Exhibition Hall, 1. May - 14. June 2009.

The reception of art is based on the dynamics of perception, or in some cases, on the conscious deception of perception. It is not only an aesthetic-optical, but an art historical and philosophical question: shall we put emphasis on the “seen” or on the “known”?

Art in the Middle Ages visualized the “known.” Later, until modernism, art presented the empirical, the “seen” world. Following this categorization, we can say the abstract and conceptual tendencies in modernist and contemporary art are related to the spirit of medieval art.

The relation of images to one another adds to the relation of reality and art: the cases of the simple epigone, the hyperrealist painter working on the basis of a photo, the artwork quoting other artworks, the artist mimicking the style of other artists, etc.

Through the parallel presentation of positive and negative examples, the exhibition gave an opportunity to viewers to think about differences between valid art of the pictorial age and products of the identity-crisis of postmodern culture.

These temporary exhibitions are important for the collection, which lacks a permanent show, as they offer a chance to display important works from the expanding repository and provide an opportunity to influence public opinion on the notion of “mimesis.”

The founder and member of one of the most well-known Romanian rock bands, Phoenix, Nicolae (Nicu) Covaci granted a video-recorded interview to the researchers of the Centre of Oral History at the CNSAS (Romanian acronym for the National Council for the Study of the Securitate Archives) on 5 May 2009. The interview was recorded after Covaci read the personal file about him created by the former Romanian secret police, the Securitate, and expressed his discontent regarding its content, which covered only parts of the artistic life of the band. The interview follows a semi-structured format and falls into the category of life-story interviews. Nicu Covaci spoke about his early life in Timișoara, his educational background, his family and friends, how he became interested in music, and the beginnings of his band Sfinții (The Saints), later renamed Phoenix. Special attention was given to his relations with the communist authorities, especially the Securitate and the communist Militia, given his public profile and non-conformist stance as the leader of Phoenix. Consequently, Nicu Covaci spoke about how surveillance by the Securitate and Militia intensified as the band gained popularity among young people and how he and other members of Phoenix felt their presence during concerts, and he underlined the fact that authorities feared that their concerts might trigger young people’s revolt against the communist regime. Regarding this last aspect, he spoke about the influence Phoenix had on Romanian teenagers and how they filled the concert halls and stadiums where the band played. Moreover, Nicu Covaci described how Phoenix concerts were used by the same young Romanians to carve out a space for personal freedom and self-expression through nonconformist dressing style and behaviour, and especially through singing lyrics that contained hidden messages against the communist regime and its restrictive policies regarding the consumption of Western music. Censorship was another subject of the interview and the leader of Phoenix remembered their complicated relations with it. Sometimes they managed to trick the censors by coating the anti-regime messages of their lyrics in figures of speech, but in other instances, some of Phoenix’s songs could not be included on their albums. The non-conformist stances of Nicu Covaci also brought him into direct conflict with the authorities, as he refused publicly to became a member of the Romanian Communist Party and play an obedient role in relation to the communist authorities. The frequent harassment he was subjected to by the Militia and the Securitate influenced his decision to emigrate in 1976. After the earthquake of 4 March 1977, Nicu Covaci returned to Romania to participate in a fundraising concert for the numerous victims of the natural disaster that had devastated the southern part of the country. In fact, he took advantage of his return home to help the other members of the Phoenix to flee the country. In his interview, Covaci recounts in great details the movie-like story of how he helped the rest of the Phoenix band to get out of the country illegally, hidden in huge loudspeakers.

Doina Cornea kept a diary from the late 1940s up to the 2000s, which reflects the inner life of a Romanian intellectual under communism who embarked on a courageous opposition to Ceauşescu’s dictatorship.  The manuscript offers a valuable insight into the intellectual atmosphere in which Cornea’s open letters and samizdat translations were created. In 2009, the Civic Academy Foundation published those notebooks which cover the period from 1988 to 1989, when Doina Cornea intensified her oppositional activities and sent several of her famous open letters of protest, such as that opposing the demolition of Romanian villages or the “Letter of 23 August,” which synthesised her criticism of Ceauşescu’s regime. In June 2009, the book was launched at the French Cultural Institute in Bucharest. Henri Lebreton, the head of the French Cultural Institute in Bucharest, chaired the discussion and the Romanian poet Ana Blandiana presented the book to the public.

The Museum of Contemporary Art moved to its new premises in 2009. The new Museum was opened on December 9, and with its opening the Museum also presented its permanent display. The permanent display carries the name Collections in Motion, and it also includes a photograph of the performances from Braco Dimitrijević’s cycle “Casual Passer-by’’ performed on Marshal Tito Square (today's Republic of Croatia Square) in Zagreb in 1971, as well as a poster used in the performance. As a part of the Museum’s permanent exhibition, "Casual Passer-by" is available daily to a wide audience, especially to organized visits by schoolchildren.

The book An Introduction to the Past (Uvod u prošlost) is published only in Serbian/Croatian, while the intent is also to publish an English version. A lengthy 22-hour interview with Želimir Žilnik was recorded; Boris Buden took excerpts from it and used them as “initial triggers” for his essays, creating a pseudo-dialogue and extending it with his analysis. Kuda.org regards Buden as an important partner.The table of content translates as follows: Preface                                                                                                                 7The Past and How to Acquire It                                                                               16Into the Healthy Brain                                                                                           35At the Cemetery of Dead Words (Fragments)                                                           52UDBA (From Off)                                                                                                  56Censorship (Cutting Cadres)                                                                                  68Stalinism                                                                                                           103Tito (Dictator?)                                                                                                   112JNA                                                                                                                   133The Star is Born: Brief Note on the Phenomenon of Cultural Initiation                       144Entering into the Sphere of Cultural Production in the Period of the Late Titoism        154Yugoslav Idol: Return to the Present in Three Images                                            176Shoot it Black! What is Black in the “Black Wave”?                                                  202Instead of the Epilogue: Revolution – A Marble Ass of History                                  213

In December 2009, the CNSAS (Romanian acronym of the National Council for the Study of the Securitate Archives) organized in Munich, with the support of the Institute for German Culture and History in South-Eastern Europe (Institut für deutsche Kultur und Geschichte Südosteuropas e.V.),which is affiliated to Ludwig-Maximilian University Munich, an exhibition under the title “Romanian-German Writers in the Securitate Files.” On this occasion the CNSAS returned to William Totok the two notebooks with drafts of poems which had been confiscated illegally by the secret police in June 1975 and archived in the criminal file created by the Securitate on his case. This restitution was based on a post-communist legal framework which aimed at rectifying the wrongdoings of the communist regime (D. Petrescu 2017, 125–136).

Ljubomir Tadić was a professor of philosophy, academic, and politically active intellectual over many decades. During the socialist period in Yugoslavia he was a prominent opposition figure and critically minded intellectual who struggled against the Yugoslav system. Ljubomir Tadić’s collection is located in the Archives of Yugoslavia in Belgrade.