One of the reasons I decided to become a journalist – or whatever you want to call me, art critic/curator, writer, whatever – is because of my unconditional love for magazines. Although art magazines are usually those which I write for, I’m a self-confessed reader of Marie Claire, Elle and the Italian weekly magazines Io Donna, D and Il Venerdì di Repubblica.
I love the first ones because of their carefree attitude. The way they create beauty with couple of pictures of Erin Wasson and a caption reading “I’m a female Johnny Cash! To hell with the it girls!” Fashion magazines create dreams and aesthetics. One can criticize them for a whole bunch of reasons – from the fact that they usually push the starving-model look to the fact that half of these mags is usually composed by advertising. That can true sometimes, but on the contrary what these magazines elicit in me is a sense of empowerment. Those worlds that Elle is creating may be fake, biased, too far away from reality. But still, just by browsing through a good editorial or reading a feature on Colette, I can’t shake off that feeling that I’m part of the beauty of the world. That through my writing, drawing, playing, photographing, I’m creating an personal aesthetic – in my own terms.
My article “An insight into South-Italian culture through the art of Angelo Formica” has just been published on the web magazine Global Comment.
This is my second article for this web-magazine. What I’m aiming at with this long-winded articles is to show how contemporary art can be an invaluable tool to investigate topical issues of modern society with a global perspective.
Here’s the link to the article
Read More
Do you remember MSN? That fairly basic chat you used to spend hours on, chatting with your faraway summer friends during winter? Ten years ago MSN was one the first ways to keep all your “contacts” together.
Back then, my friend Enrico was very big on “contacts”. He was – and still is – a very friendly person who is comfortable with pretty much everyone. When he was thirteen the idea of having all his friends in one single place was to him the most exciting thing ever – right after Harry Potter I suppose. As for me, I used to considered other people being an annoyance most of the times – fictional people like Harry Potter included – so the fact that he was bragging about the number of his MSN’s contacts sounded funny to me. Fast forward to the Facebook era, my friend’s account is bursting at the seams, and so he periodically purges it – only to repent short time after and re-add his unfriended ones.
Today as a grown up girl I finally understand the importance of other people. I gave up my antisocial punk attitude and I started to appreciate talking and exchanging ideas with people big time. If I have to spot a precise time I decided cut on my misanthropy, I would say when I first encountered the Roman art world. At nineteen I was going to plenty of vernissages, often with my two best mates – “compagni d’arte” – and we were wondering about why all those caryatids, err, older people, didn’t want to talk with us. If you are not familiar with art openings in Italy, you should know that you seldom see younger people there. This was far from bothering me. I figured I just had to be more stylish, so I started wearing a little black dress, red lipstick and the right amount of boldness.
Read More
Many moons ago, when was a graffiti artist in Rome, I was introduced to Roman rap music by my then-boyfriend, who used to wear annoying hip hop clothes and a very nice rapper hat. I didn’t know anything about rap back then. I grew up on punk rock and when came to the spoken word I couldn’t go farther than Patti Smith’s “Piss Factory” – which still hold the title the most moving songs about ambition and an aesthetic vision of life, if you ask me.
Anyway, at the time I was listening to all those people you probably never heard of unless you are from Rome and you wear annoying hip hop clothes. Corveleno was my favourite rap group, followed by Colle Der Fomento, Gente de Borgata and – here I have some reticence to admit it – Noyz Narcoz and Saga Er Secco. As bad as it sounds, my writing style in Italian was heavily influenced by that music. You should read my art reviews from that time on Art a Part of Cul(ure). Imagine reviewing Sandro Chia with this super aggressive attitude – which let’s be honest, the Transavanguardia deserves a little bit. Plus, those reviews were great fun to write. I remember a mail exchange with Art a Part of Cult(ure) director Barbara – who usually let me go away with everything – saying: “Don’t you think that passage is a little offensive?” Offensive was a nice way to describe that passage.
Read More
I remember one beautiful evening few years ago in Rome. I was walking with my new friend Francesco, a mime just met at Cinema Trevi. Quite strangely for a mime, he was a chatterbox. I thought that was because he couldn’t talk on stage, so that was his way to vent. Since I just came back from an opening at Gagosian gallery, I was wearing red lipstick, a little back dress and red shoes. Francesco and I keep on whirling in the street paved with cobblestones and he said: “You know what the beauty of life is? That you can live wherever you want. You just have to choose a city, and you can move there anytime.” Then he went on telling me about when he was my age – twenty-one at the time – and he moved to Spain by himself. He was working in a bar near the beach, studying as an actor at the same time. He also told me about that time that he saved a girl abused by a group of guys – an anecdote he clearly unsheathed to impress me. Aside from that, the beautiful thing about Francesco was his constant excitement and exaggerated optimism. He could have been banal and cliché in his representation of happiness, fancying sunsets on the beach and the like, but he was still infusing me merriness and even a little inspiration.
Over the years I kept on asking myself: Is that true? Can you really pick a city you like and decide to move there on the whim?
Read More
There is a mesmerizing Patti Smith’s song I used to listen to when I was in my teens. It’s called “Land” and tells – in a very surreal way – the story of this guy called Johnny. Since the chord progression wasn’t too complicatedly, I quickly learned to play it on the guitar. There was a particular line that made me pretty excited when I sang it. It was “I hold the key to the sea of possibilities”.
When I was seventeen I had a number of small abilities, but very little how-to knowledge.
My guitar practice alone branched off into my folk Neapolitan repertoire, my intimate Carla Bruni-like songs and my love for punk rock. These three aesthetics were not conflicting to me. That was confirmed by reading on a magazine that Norah Jones also had a punk band. I thought, if she does it, why I shouldn’t? (Well, if you have ever heard me singing and playing, the answer is pretty straightforward).
Way before I would learn the position for a E chord, I was making been comic books. Since I was born, I have never stopped drawing and creating stories. As often happens, I started making comic books since I was in high school and my school mates were my first readers. Never in my life I considered to stop that. Then of course, there was the writing. I was that annoying kid asked by the teacher to stand up and read her essay out loud. I didn’t really like to do that, mostly because my pulp Tarantino-confronts-Romero-on-the-theme-of-abortion like essays were meant to be read with a little verve. Which I completely lacked of . Anyways, at eighteen I started writing for an art magazine and a number of rock and general publications. Around the same time, I started covering every blank spot I could find in the city with graffiti. Man, that was real fun!
Read More
When people ask me about my routine, what I can say is that it is constantly changing. After an intense July, I’m finally back in uneventful Sorrento, Italy, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In sultry Rome I was super-busy setting up the screening of Indonesian video art, so I wasn’t really able to keep a routine, which was good. In fact, my modus operandi entails intense and exciting weeks, followed by weeks of just concentrating getting the “offstage” work done. Which means a solid 8 hours a day. Then I grow restless and I leave for the next adventure. I also like the idea that thanks to the internet you can work remotely to your next mission. There is something inherently powerful in working from a remote costal town in Italy, contacting artists and magazines from all over the world. So that’s how an ideal July-August workday looks like for me (if I manage to retain myself from playing guitar all day)
Read More
When it comes to creative jobs in general – and jobs in contemporary art in particular – the word “work” often assumes nuanced meanings.
After all work is not supposed to be fun. It has to be a daily ordeal, something that drains off your love for life, fades the colours around you and makes food tasteless.
Well, I think that today, more than ever, that is simply not true.
If you are into Brain Pickings, TED Talks, School of Life & similaria just like I am – and you probably are since you stumbled on this blog – you listen to people spurring you to make a business out of your passion every day. Nothing seems to be impossible in the era of internet. The sheer fact of owning a computer opens up a myriad of resources and possibilities.
Yet once again I hear people in contemporary art industry saying “Obviously with this project we are not interested in making any profit. We are doing that for the glory.” What followed is usually a resigned nodding: “That’s the way it is.”
The glory? What the hell, I thought, we are talking of contemporary art! If you are in for the glory, you better choose something a little more mainstream. Contemporary art gave fame and glory to very few people. The majority of these people are just a handful of artists, the rest are Hans Ulrich Obrist and Achille Bonito Oliva. Full stop. You may worship Palma Bucarelli (the late charming director of Rome’s National Gallery from 1942 al 1975) just like I do. But you also have to acknowledge that she’s pretty niche. Niche to the point she doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page in English. The best part is that I don’t think she would care about having a Wikipedia page either. She was not in for the glory; working in a museum was her job and it was a real respectable job, the kind that pays the bills – and in her case all those glamorous dresses as well.
Si è da poco conclusa la mostra con mia curatela “Nothing’s happened since Yesterday – Due artisti da Melbourne” di Georgina Lee e Kenny Pittock alla Galleria 291est, Roma. Se non avete avuto modo di visitarla ma siete curiosi di sapere di che si trattava, ecco il mio testo critico a corredo della mostra, più una galleria di immagini:
“Paesi geograficamente lontani da noi come l’Australia suscitano suggestioni diverse che dicono molto non tanto del paese stesso, quanto della persona interpellata.
Per alcuni all’Australia si associa all’esodo in corso della gioventù italiana in cerca di prospettive lavorative. Sono infatti sempre di più coloro disposti ad affrontare più di 24 ore di volo e un cambio radicale per sistemarsi in quella che è vista come la nuova America. Per loro l’Australia sarebbe tutta percentuali di disoccupazione bassissime, clima amichevole e qualità della vita alta; almeno secondo le statistiche. Per altri invece Australia vuol dire esclusivamente spiagge sconfinate popolate da biondi surfisti abbronzati. Altri non penseranno altro che ai coccodrilli e ai cappelli di pelle a falda larga con i dentini di alligatore (ne ho uno e sono indecisa se indossarlo all’opening di questa mostra o meno, giusto per il gusto di farmi accoltellare dai due artisti indignati per lo stereotipo).
The other day I was reading this interesting interview on Design Sponge to business owner Jess Lively. Jess pointed out that there are four questions everyone should ask themselves before starting a business, or while running it. These question have subconsciously run into my mind all the time, but now I really wanted to put them “on paper”. The answer we give to these questions is ultimately what makes you keep going through a bad day and what can probably stop you making things half heartedly. It is a powerful reminder to do what you can with what you have and not be scared to figure things out along the way. Here my answers; I’m sure many arts writers and curators can relate to.
1. Why are you starting this business?
Because I love writing and connecting with people. What motivates me is a huge curiosity about the world and the human beings inhabiting it. I enjoy hearing people’s stories and retell them through my own writing. I’m usually enriched and energized by a good conversation, and at times also moved. As a journalist and interviewer I always bear in mind the motto: “La vita è l’arte dell’incontro” (Life is the art of the encounter).
Read More
I have always been obsessed with plans for the day and routines. At the same time I know that I can’t stick to a particular routine for more than one month. That’s mainly because I had a double-base this year, Rome and Sorrento, so I need to continuously review my routine plan.
In Rome it’s harder to have a routine, since there are things to do all the time and life is quite hectic and unpredictable.
On the other hand, when I’m in Sorrento, I get back to my antisocial behaviour, and it’s much easier to stick to a routine and be productive. I have been away from Rome for almost a month now, so I had all the time I needed to establish a routine that really works for me and makes me happy. Here how it went so far:
Published! Contemporary art and climate change on Global Comment
The web magazine Global Comment has just published my article “Is contemporary art effective in spreading awareness of climate change?”. It is my first collaboration with this magazine.
Here the link to the article
Read More