Airplane crash (Superga, 1949)

Ruins

Gallery updated on June 6, 2016

Ukrainian head

Ukrainian head

2014 - 60x81 cm - Oil on canvas

Airplane crash (Superga, 1949)

Airplane crash (Superga, 1949)

2013 - 114x146 cm - Oil on canvas

Red car

Red car

2013 - 60x80 cm - Oil on canvas

Black tea (Spain 2014)

Black tea (Spain 2014)

2014 - 19x24 cm - Oil on canvas

La Escocesa

La Escocesa

2014 - 6x10 cm - Oil on board

Poblenou

Poblenou

2014 - 6x10 cm - Oil on board

Le déjeuner sur l’herbe I

Le déjeuner sur l’herbe I

2015 - 16x22 cm - Oil on canvas

Pig

Pig

2015 - 19x24 cm - Oil on canvas

Glories (Glòries)

Glories (Glòries)

2016, oil on canvas - 41x33cm

Fallen and believers

Fallen and believers

2015, oil on canvas, 38x61cm

Ruins (The day after)

Ruins (The day after)

2016, Oil on board - 29,5 x 21,5 cm

Le déjeuner sur l’herbe

Le déjeuner sur l’herbe

2016, oil on board, 21,5x29,5 cm

Maremortum I

Maremortum I

2016, oil on canvas, 100x100 cm


Ruin / Desertion / Accident

“Accidentes, desechos y vertederos; efigies derrumbadas, escombros y páramos industriales, mutantes y cadáveres… Mi larga conversación con la muerte trata de ruinas materiales y de ruinas morales, de desechos humanos, de víctimas y verdugos.

En este diálogo de luces y sombras entre pasado y presente se define la contemporaneidad de mi trabajo, mi respuesta a las tinieblas del ahora. Mi investigación sobre el pasado es la sombra de mi interrogación sobre el presente, preocupado por la fragilidad de nuestro sistema y por la vulnerabilidad de una humanidad entregada a ciegas a las sirenas triunfales del progreso”

Three roads, a single destination. I walk among the debris of a ruined world as a witness to an apocalypse of steel and blood, ghost between absences.

 

Io sono una forza del Passato.
Solo nella tradizione è il mio amore.
Vengo dai ruderi, dalle chiese,
dalle pale d’altare, dai borghi
abbandonati sugli Appennini o le Prealpi,
dove sono vissuti i fratelli.
Giro per la Tuscolana come un pazzo,
per l’Appia come un cane senza padrone.
O guardo i crepuscoli, le mattine
su Roma, sulla Ciociaria, sul mondo,
come i primi atti della Dopostoria,
cui io assisto, per privilegio d’anagrafe,
dall’orlo estremo di qualche età
sepolta. Mostruoso è chi è nato
dalle viscere di una donna morta.
E io, feto adulto, mi aggiro
più moderno di ogni moderno
acercarefratelli che nonsono più.(Pier Paolo Pasolini, Io sono una forza del Passato,
in “Poesia in forma di rosa”)
I am a force of the Past.
My love lies only in tradition.
I come from the ruins, the churches,
the altarpieces, the villages
abandoned in the Appennines or foothills
of the Alps where my brothers once lived.
I wander like a madman down the Tuscolana,
down the Appia like a dog without a master.
Or I see the twilights, the mornings
over Rome, the Ciociaria, the world,
as the first acts of Posthistory
to which I bear witness, for the privilege
of recording them from the outer edge
of some buried age. Monstrous is the man
born of a dead woman’s womb.
And I, a fetus now grown, roam about
more modern than any modern man,
in search of brothers no longer alive.(Pier Paolo Pasolini, I am a force of the past,
from “Poetry in form of a rose”)

 

“Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress”.

(W. Benjamin about Angelus Novus by P. Klee, from “Theses on the Philosophy of History”)