Naima Morelli

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“The Act of Killing” is the kind of movie that shuts you up for at least fifteen minutes after the credits. It makes you so uncomfortable that you can just chatter about irrelevant stuff with your friends out of the cinema.
Then, on the tram the way home, you suddenly burst in wordiness.

What happened is that “The Act of Killing” has finally been screened in Italian cinemas.
I went to see it the other day with a group of friends at the “Cinema Aquila”, in Pigneto, Rome.
The Act of Killing is an unconventional documentary film directed by Joshua Oppenheimer.
The film deals with the systematic slaughter of real or supposed communists in the aftermath of a failed coup in 1965 that led to General Suharto assuming power.
The director was not interested in gave a full picture of the historical events though. He didn’t even mention Suharto once.
The documentary revolves instead around the character of Anwar Congo, a leader of paramilitary organisation Pancasila Youth, whose job was to kill prisoners.
Because the historical picture was only hinted, I wouldn’t say it is a movie specifically about Indonesia’s ’65.
I would rather say it’s a movie about “the act of killing” itself, the psychology of the killer and the banality of evil.

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Coming back from Australia, I decided to see the Venice Biennale before it ends.
Maybe it was not the greatest Biennale ever, but there are some artworks worth talking about. Here you are, my personal list of favourites:

  • Arthur Bispo do Rosario

I didn’t know about this incredible Brazilian artist before. Apparently he spent fifty years confined to the attic of a psychiatric institution because he started telling people about his visions. In the institution he started making art not with the idea of becoming an artist, but for his own eternal salvation. His work was first shown at the Venice Biennale in 1995 and now he is exhibiting again at the Arsenal.
I have always been attracted by work that relates with paganism, religion and folk tradition. His clusters of waste material, paper, wood and rags are just beautiful. His installations look like toys or fetishes.

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Bindi Cole is one of the first artists I interviewed in Melbourne.
I come to know about her work during the presentation talk of “Melbourne Now” exhibition at the NGV.
Her work span through different mediums, from photography to installation, and the themes are often related to her personal history and aboriginal issues.
She constantly challenges stereotypes, revealing overlooked complexities behind communities and identities. In the series “Not Really Aboriginal” she photographed her family and herself with black painting on their face. The title refers to the accusation that some people addressed to her, that of not being “really” Aboriginal, because of her anglosaxon aspect and her light skin.
One of her most challenging work is “Sistagirls”, a photographic series about the transgender community of the Tiwi Islands.
Recently Bindi Cole decided to reflect on her personal history, mainly through video and installations. Even if she went through tough times, her vision underlies a constant optimism and reveals the beauty of the human experience.
I find her recent installation with emu feathers “I Forgive You) (currently exhibited at Queensland Art Gallery) just moving.

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Obviously openings are not for art appreciation. Openings are for networking, for the glamour of being there, for “bella figura” and so on.
Sometimes though, if you talk with a friend about the opening of the night before, she may happen to mention the art.
Sometimes she would even have an opinion about it. Maybe she went there, she wouldn’t meet anyone she knows already, everyone was grumpy and unfriendly, no buffet even! (so rude).
What was left was to pay attention to the art.

Well, that’s not certainly the case of the recent opening at Volume! Foundation in Rome.
Forget about people being there reporting you about the art. In the opening aftermath the only comment you could collect was: “There were so many people.”
I mean, it was Kounellis opening we are talking about, not a light weight.
You certainly know who Kounellis is, but maybe I can repeat it for the guys who failed in the contemporary art test.
You may argue Kounellis’ worship is mainly in Italy, but then I remind you that his work is exhibited all over the world from Minnesota to Paris.
So, to keep it short, Kounellis is a talented Greek guy who decided to subscribe the art academy in Rome when it was still reputable. (There are still tons of people lured to the art academy in Rome from far countries, and I really feel bad for them).
1960 is the date of Kounellis’ first exhibition at Galleria La Tartaruga in Rome, and in the following years he contributed to the emergence of Arte Povera.
Kounellis, according to the principles of Arte Povera, started using materials from everyday life, animals, fire, bed, stones, iron in his artwork.
He also did some fun stuff artists use to do in Rome in the sixties, like unleash twelve horses in the gallery L’Attico. Just like that, for the sake of art.

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Rome

We have seen plenty of celebrations of the sea. The only subject that is as hackneyed as the sea is the sky. And love.
But really, to be innovative is not to talk about a new subject for the first time. To be innovative is to be able of talking about a corny subject in a new, or personal or moving way.
If you are a musician, go ask Ivano Fossati about it. If you are a painter, ask Piero Guccione. If you are a photographer, do what Monitor Gallery did. Go ask Antonio Rovaldi.

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edwinj

 

The Italian web magazine Art a Part of Cult(ure) just published the interview I had in Melbourne with Edwin Jurriëns, lecturer in Indonesian Studies at Melbourne University. The interview is part of my reportage about contemporary art in Indonesia.

Here you are the link to the interview

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zabetta

“Incalzatrice della storia Freno del tempo Tu Bomba / Giocattolo dell’universo Massima rapinatrice di cieli Non posso odiarti”

Correndo giù per Via dei Mille nel caldo di un aprile napoletano del duemilaundici, cercando di arrivare al Molo Beverello in tempo per prendere l’Aliscafo dell’una e cinque, vale a dire essere a Sorrento per le due meno un quarto circa, ecco in questa corsa (perché si sa che il movimento fa arieggiare il cervello, purchè non vada in iperventilazione) le immagini della mostra di Zabetta si sovrappongono, si alternano in rima baciata, alternata, incrociata e slogata ai versi di “Bomb” di Gregory Corso.

Sulla rampa di legno vigilata dai Vucumprà, a fianco al Maschio Angioino, inevitabilmente parole e immagini sono già tutta una pappetta, sbatacchiate come un frullatore nella mia testa, non resta che sedersi sull’aliscafo e fare un po’ di ordine.
Dunque, Coda Zabetta non penso proprio che abbia scritto una lettera d’amore alla Bomba, quello è stato Corso. Piuttosto quello di Coda Z. si tratta di un lavoro ordinato che ha condotto a un risultato efficace, puntuale e profetico, come ci hanno tenuto tutti quanti a rimarcare con occhi da Cassandra color acque di Mergellina, alludendo chiaramente alla recentissima tragedia nucleare giapponese.

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I recently interviewed the artist Twoone  (Hiroyasu Tsuri) in his studio in Collingwood.
The studio was quite empty because he had brought all the paintings at the Backwoods gallery, for his upcoming solo show “Define Nothing”.
Twoone’s Japanese background is evident in his paintings’ balanced composition. His mystical-looking characters with animal heads, realized in his unique style, are his trademark in the Melbournian thriving street art culture.
The exhibition has been a success. I took some pictures of the Twoone’s artworks in the gallery, and then I followed him in a street nearby where he was painting a wall. 

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haristalk

The inevitable destiny of every artists is to be know from the wide public just for a single artwork or an aspect of their more extensive production.
Duchamp is for everyone “the guy of the urinal”, Damien Hirst is the chap who did the shark, Eric Clapton is Layla’s ex boyfriend and so on..
If I say Haris Purnomo, what comes to your mind?
Babies with tattoos, of course.
Haris has painted babies with tattoos for almost 22 years – becoming one of the most popular Indonesian artists in the meantime.

The last solo show of Haris Purnomo “Beyond the Mirror Stage” at the Mifa gallery in Melbourne, Australia, has just finished.
The day of the finissage – you say “finissage” only in Italy and France, what a ridiculous name for “closing”! – the gallery Mifa decided to host a talk with the artist.
It was an interesting talk of 45 minutes with the SBS radio presenter Sri Dean and with frequent interventions from the public. The discussion was focused on the symbols used by the artist and his way of working.

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Oky Rey Montha is an interesting pop-surrealist artist from Indonesia.
I already wrote a post about one of his painting “Dark Venice” here.
Oky just had a big solo show in the Galeri Canna in Jakarta. The title of the exhibition “Brigitta Queen” is referred to his new character, a mysterious girl from Moscow with her face constantly hidden behind a mask.
Here you are a gallery of photographs from the exhibition that can give you an idea of Oky Rey Montha’s visionary world:

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nietzsche

Robberto is a young artist based in Rome, native of Sardinia. I met him at the Pastificio Cerere, in Rome, and I soon find out that he studied at the Accademia di Belle Arti as well. He gave me this painting of Nietzsche – charcoal and chalk on wood – as gift. The back of the wood is slate, so the artwork is super-heavy. I needed some help to carry the artwork home.

Nietzsche is my favourite philosopher, his writing is incredibly powerful. He said “I’m dynamite” long before the AC/DC. 

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In Melbourne one of the first questions people ask you is “where do you come from?”.
It makes sense in a city where hostels are flooding with drunk people swearing in so many different languages.
There are backpackers coming here with a sheer party mentality, europeans seeking for a well-payed job as waiters and wannabe adventures romantically compelled by soil their hair with red dust, possibly riding through the desert on a rusty jeep (that’s me, and I sadly found out that there is not that much desert in Victoria).

The prosaic reality of Melbourne city clashed so hard with my fantasy – eating Kangaroo on a red rock with aboriginals people – that I decided to keep myself busy with what is supposed to be my main job: contemporary art.
Well, the truth was that I was already in Melbourne to complete the last stages of my reportage about Indonesian contemporary art, so I found myself turning on the recorder and listen to the artist Tintin Wulia.
It was the first interview here in Melbourne and one of the last interviews for my reportage about Indonesia Contemporary Art.
Her work and her experience as an artist epitomized the core of my book: there is no such a thing called Indonesian art, there are some practices born in a geographical segment called Indonesia, and there are some artists born in Indonesia that are making art.
The edges are so sharp just on the map – ideas and aesthetic are much more fluid – yet these borders matter incredibly when comes to bureaucracy, biennales pavilions and personal identity.

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