I have been always fascinated by humans, the human nature, what makes us what we are, bus also what connects us to the life that expands beyond our “humanity”. In a desire to discover the world, to reveal what is hidden, the surface became my obsession. I needed to go deeper, but also to reach a “ground”, a terrestrial tale that would talk about what is alive in the humane. In my quest I often changed materials; my anchor, my constant coordinate was a desire to explore to the deepest my obsessions.
I started with works that used the surface of the paper that through a laborious movement of material removal, would thus transform into an ethereal network of connections: a reminiscence of memory’s structure. Later on, I would pass to sculpture. Breaking and reassembling found material (porcelain bibelots) was my way of talking of the imperfection of the beauty of life. Surface again resurges as a way of depicting the skin, often wounded in these small scale sculptures.
Skin, which often reappears in my works, became a metaphor for the surface, for a way of being in connection with the world, that carries in it a suggestive meaning; a meaning that cannot be seen outside its precarious nature. This surface, material or allegorical, always bears the immanence of a double meaning: it can be seen as both a barrier and a surface of inter-connectivity. In this context, surface is never meant to remain intact; it squirms, wraps and finally transforms through a revitalizing force that opens the way to new perspectives.
But the skin can also be the surface of the paper itself. By cutting it, drawing it, or even piercing it, this is a way of penetrating deeper into my own existence. In the latest unit of work, paper becomes the skin of our humanity and thus the limit that interconnects us with our fellow beings. Starting with images that depict animals, or animal furs, I, then, proceeded in depicting landscapes, the natural habitat of animals, which however remain invisible to our heavily filtrated view. But animality here becomes a metaphor; one should not try to search for the animal, which remains in this case absent, but rather for this always evading quality of life that we tend to forget to attribute to the human. Again a laborious process of creating is put in action: drawings that depict the world as we have learned to see it, are now erased, pierced, scratched (gestures implying animal movements) or redrawn in a way to produce a more complicate and implicit view of what we call “nature”.
Time (in the sense of a patient creation process) and silence have played their role in my work. I think these are two qualities that my work evokes and turns towards as it is evolving. For time is our “vehicle”, our way of living, and patience and humbleness is what we need to gain in order to live up to our nature. Last but not least, silence is the way images talk to us. For silence, that is when the logos sleeps, is what is needed for the senses to awake. And perhaps, it is a way to evoke an originary absence, in which a common dispossession is shared between art and human nature.