The Italian magazine Art a Part of Cult(ure) has just published my review of Shi Xinning’s exhibition “Idea or Event” at Primo Marella Gallery, Milan.
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Three years ago Isabella Tirelli, artist and professor at the Art Academy in Rome started a video project called “Dialogo con l’artista”.
The project was based on collective interviews to artists in their studio and was realized under the direction of videomaker Leonardo Settimelli.
Tirelli gathered students and ex students from the Art Academy – I fell into the latter category – and we visited the studios of the most amazing artists in Rome.
The most notable visit for me was certainly the one to Luigi Ontani’s studio in Piazza Popolo.
I wrote about Luigi Ontani work before (for this blog, Artribune and I-Magazine Bali) and I obviously love his art. Who doesn’t afterall?
Once I was in Naples and, going down the Museo Madre’s stairs, I saw Ontani around the corner. I was wearing his typical blue silk suit and there were two guys literally throwing at his feet whispering:”Maestro… maestro…”. Even if Ontani’s physical presence is enough inspire devotion among many, the artist himself is much more down-to-earth than his public persona.
I recently visited the studio of artist Alessandro Cannistrà in San Lorenzo.
It consisted in a white, neat room, pretty bare, except for some books, stucked in an arch in the wall over the door, and a black sofa with some black hats on it.
“This is an original gaucho hat.” he said grabbing a wide-brimmed leather hat on top of the stack “I bought it in Argentina, during my artist residency in Buenos Aires”.
Alessandro has travelled quite a bit lately and he recently relocated in Rome. His work keep on travelling internationally through exhibition and fairs, that’s why his studio was almost empty at the moment.
My attention was attracted by some 3D reconstructions that were pinpointed on the wall.
“Is that what are you working on at the moment?” I asked
Alessandro explained me that he was working on these pyramids for his new solo exhibition at Toselli Gallery, in Milan, curated by Luca Tomìo. The title was “Oggetto di Pensiero”, namely “Object of thinking”, and will open on March 28.
Milan is a strange city. It’s not like Rome, where beauty is blatant and majestic.
Milan is more discreet, its beauties are hidden and only locals and curious people living there for a long time are aware of them.
Sometimes it feels like falling down the rabbit hole. What I mean is that you wouldn’t expect to find conceptual art, Dan Flavin to be precise, in a quiet suburbia at the end of the green line, Abbiategrasso (which in an English translation sounds like “Be fat”).
Ho recentemente ritrovato nei meandri di internet un mio articolo del 2008, riguardante gli esami di ammissione in tre delle più prestigiose Accademie di Belle Arti italiane, Roma, Napoli e Firenze. Al tempo mi recai nelle tre città per ovviare alla latitanza di informazioni sul web riguardo agli esami di ammissione, quello che trovai invece fu una sorta di specchio dell’Italia. Agli esordi del 2014 non penso che la situazione sia molto cambiata.
Viaggio tra le Accademie di Belle Arti d’Italia
Le informazioni sulle Accademie di Belle Arti Italiane sono scarse, i siti ufficiali poco aggiornati, le segreterie avare di informazioni, i forum a cui si rivolgono i ragazzi telegrafici. Abbiamo dato un’occhiata alle prove d’ammissione nelle Accademie di Belle arti di Firenze, Roma e Napoli: ecco il verdetto.
“Di dove sei?”
A farmi la domanda è una ragazza dall’aspetto un po’ alternativo, lunghi capelli castano chiaro e look hippie: “Io sono di Bologna, ho fatto il test di ammissione anche là, ma dicono che sono tutti raccomandati, e comunque è meglio farlo da più parti, perché se non entri hai sempre un’altra possibilità”.
C’era insomma un tempo dove il garage non era più quel luogo dove parcheggiavi la macchina e stipavi il televisore rotto.
C’era un tempo dove tutto era spartano e vivido. Basico. Come dire, un garage, un gallerista e la centralità dell’arte.
Grossomodo è così che l’arte moderna in Italia si è incamminata verso la contemporaneità.
Erano tempi mitici, dove le gallerie venivano allagate o nelle quali passeggiavano cavalli.
L’unico problema a quei tempi, piuttosto marginale per l’arte contemporanea, era dove parcheggiare l’automobile.
Adesso probabilmente la gente prende meno multe per divieto di sosta, ma quell’atmosfera grunge e sincera sembra essere sparita. Diversamente da altre città europee, a Roma e a Milano le alternative alle immacolate stanze dell’arte contemporanea sono veramente poche.
“L’arte contemporanea italiana è diventata sempre più istituzionalizzata. Non c’è traccia delle esperienze d’avanguardia degli anni sessanta e settanta. Sono sorpreso in particolare dagli artisti più giovani. Sono infatti proprio loro i primi a cercare di entrare in un sistema dell’arte già bello e pronto, e nemmeno si sforzano di immaginare soluzioni alternative. La stessa pratica artistica sembra essere diventata una faccenda secondaria”, afferma l’artista Alessandro Cannistrà.
The Italian web magazine Art a Part of Cult(ure) has just published my review of Martina Angius’ exhibition “Ordine” curated by Donato Di Pelino at Muga Gallery, Rome.
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The Indonesian magazine I Magazine Bali has just published my review of the Bali Bulè exhibition at Museo Archeologico in Naples, featuring artists Bickerton, Ontani and Sciascia.
Here the link to the magazine website
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If you think that in the eighties in Italy there were just Loredana Bertè, Donatella Rettore and the Diaframma to dress weirdly, you are wrong. The eighties in Italy were truly rad. (If you are not Italian there are good chances you never hear of Loredana Bertè, Donatella Rettore and especially the Diaframma).
Anyways, if you have any doubt about the radness of the eighties in Italy, you should check st. foto libreria galleria, ironically just two steps away from the Vatican. You will be surprised to know that all the people looking at you from the pictures on the wall were actually everyday roman people, except that by night they transformed into dark eighties rockers.
The photographic work of Dino Ignani is anthropological. The portraits are almost segnaletic pictures, with a neutral background and no particular choice of light or pose.
He was “archiving” the underground dark scene of Rome. All these young people were photographed in roman discos and they dressed up for the occasion.
“It was startling to see all these people coming at the opening of the exhibition” said curator Paola Paleari ” you can tell that there were the same people of the pictures, but they look cleaned up from that dark look and even their attitude was different”.
It was an interesting choice from the st gallery to cover this less-known period of the Italian recent history, focusing on that particular community. For some it would be nostalgia, for some others even inspirational. Eighties are back.
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The Italian magazine Artribune has just published my review of the Bali Bulè exhibition at Museo Archeologico in Naples, featuring artists Bickerton, Ontani and Sciascia.
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I met Marco Cassani in Bali during my reportage about contemporary art in Indonesia. What supposed to be an interview has become a lively chat about Marco’s art, hallucinogenic experiences and, of course, Bali. A month ago he sent me this mail about his new work that is going to be exhibit at “Imagining Indonesia, Tribute to S.Sudjojono” on the 23rd of November at Tonyraka Gallery in Bali:
Dear Naima,
How are you?
I am sending you the picture of my new work for the group exhibition
Tribute to Sudjojono at Tonyraka gallery on November, 23rd.
The work, entitled ‘CHANCE Project 2, Tribute to S. Sudjojono’, consists in:
1) a sculptor that represents the Sudjojono head (cement, 140 x 90 x 90 cm)
2) a box (wood, 120 x 70 x 45 cm) with a text (“This sculpture is designed
for people to interact with. The audience is free to do whatever they
want, with or without the tools provided. This is part of an interactive
event between art and its audience. The result of this encounter is a
reflection of the behaviour of the people. As Sudjojono stated Еarth of
Indonesia should reflect the character of the land and its people.”)
Since no one cares about the 55th Venice Biennale anymore, I feel like sharing my definitive thoughts about my favourite pavilion, without anyone there to contradict me.
So, chart lovers, my favourite pavilion was the Indonesian one, curated by Rifky Effendy.
In no other pavilion the installations of different artists work so perfectly together. The show almost looked like one single artist and yet it encapsulated such a richness of discourses.
If you were at the Venice Biennale in October, you would have seen me wandering in the Arsenal looking for the Indonesian Pavillion.
I actually overshot the main entrance, so I came in by the back door.
It was dark inside, and there was a soft music that I didn’t notice in the first place. The music though ended up being a background noise influencing the entire experience of the pavilion.
The soundscape was actually by Solo composer Rahayu Supanggah, the guy who reinvented traditional Indonesian music. For the Biennale’s composition he was inspired by the theme of the pavilion, which was “Sankti”.
As the press release stated, Sankti is a sanskrit word that refers to the primordial cosmic energy and the personification of the divine, feminine creative energy, as well as indicating change and liberation.
The first dark-metal work I encountered immediately struck me with his expressive power.
A group of man wearing a Muslim hat were sitting at a table. One man was laying with his head on the table, like someone who had been shot or something. One man was pointing his finger to another gentleman, who looked baffled. If you looked better at these two figures and you would notice that their legs where stretched under the table so to touch each other.
But the figure that really stood out was a matriarch in traditional clothes, upright at the end of the table. She was bringing a hand at his chest like saying: “Who, me?”
A weird lamp was falling from the ceiling, almost touching the table. It was shaped like something between an octopus and a tropical fruit.
