Ibam forte TRD
Gianfranco Uccelli
(Italiano)
Caso, Cosa, Caos (Fate, Thing, Chaos)
I don’t believe that much in fate. Indeed, I don’t believe in it at all. We name fate all that we can’t explain and we dare not call destiny any more. But I forget all this. And every time there it is, the fate, ready to put its post-its on the weave of things. For instance, the paintings that Maurizio Marinelli exhibits at Galleria 8,75 in Reggio Emilia, titled TRD 1-10. Painted in the open air during last summer, as the previous series VDR 1-14, the stations of this enigmatic route are crossings of casualness.
The risk is a recurring one in contemporary outline: you throw the colour on the canvas, direct it rocking, you drop, spurt, let it filter with some device. Not differently to what happens with musical instruments, or with world’s voices and buzzing, obtaining surprising sounding cues. All this is in a subtle anagram interplay between Fate (Caso), Thing (Cosa), Chaos (Caos).
Marinelli explores this way through a double syntax: at first gestural, enclosed in each painting; then formal, along many paintings cadenced in numbers (10) but suspended as if they were in a serial stripe. The last one states it clear, ended on the storming in of a new colour (the blue) and open to the coming of a future one: when the verbal element, here just emerging on the magma of the signs, will (perhaps) have its status back. But the casualness I’m speaking about is not all here. There is a deeper one, the casualness of stories. Yes, behind this exhibition there is a history of stories. TRD 1-10 (as well as VDR 1-14 two years ago) was born on account of the existence of a certain house, of Maurizio discovering in it buried skills, of a friend of his having been there for dinner, of a friend of that friend dealing with contemporary art and so on, from link to link. Marinelli should answer to the fatal question (“How did you career begin?”) as expected (“By chance”). It will be the truth. The current truth, at least. “Ibam forte Via Sacra”, writes Horace in one of his most famous satires: “I was wandering haphazardly on the Sacred Way”. Casualness. Sacredness. It’s curious.
I don’t know if Horace says this on purpose. Nor Marinelli, sprinkling canvases in the yard, knows which mechanism could spring out from them. You go round the fate again and again, as if a capricious legislation ruled a cosmos devoid of law-makers. And it does, in a certain sense.
But without VDR 1-14, MDL 1-20 and TRD 1-10 (a coding deprived of workplaces) I will not be here to witness, I will not reflect again upon the traps of casualness, I will not receive from Maurizio a lesson of readiness in catching and spending parts.
It’s a pity that fate doesn’t exist: we miss all the shock that follows.
On the other hand, cracks open on a different state of conscience.
Gianfranco Uccelli
(Italiano)
Caso, Cosa, Caos (Fate, Thing, Chaos)
I don’t believe that much in fate. Indeed, I don’t believe in it at all. We name fate all that we can’t explain and we dare not call destiny any more. But I forget all this. And every time there it is, the fate, ready to put its post-its on the weave of things. For instance, the paintings that Maurizio Marinelli exhibits at Galleria 8,75 in Reggio Emilia, titled TRD 1-10. Painted in the open air during last summer, as the previous series VDR 1-14, the stations of this enigmatic route are crossings of casualness.
The risk is a recurring one in contemporary outline: you throw the colour on the canvas, direct it rocking, you drop, spurt, let it filter with some device. Not differently to what happens with musical instruments, or with world’s voices and buzzing, obtaining surprising sounding cues. All this is in a subtle anagram interplay between Fate (Caso), Thing (Cosa), Chaos (Caos).
Marinelli explores this way through a double syntax: at first gestural, enclosed in each painting; then formal, along many paintings cadenced in numbers (10) but suspended as if they were in a serial stripe. The last one states it clear, ended on the storming in of a new colour (the blue) and open to the coming of a future one: when the verbal element, here just emerging on the magma of the signs, will (perhaps) have its status back. But the casualness I’m speaking about is not all here. There is a deeper one, the casualness of stories. Yes, behind this exhibition there is a history of stories. TRD 1-10 (as well as VDR 1-14 two years ago) was born on account of the existence of a certain house, of Maurizio discovering in it buried skills, of a friend of his having been there for dinner, of a friend of that friend dealing with contemporary art and so on, from link to link. Marinelli should answer to the fatal question (“How did you career begin?”) as expected (“By chance”). It will be the truth. The current truth, at least. “Ibam forte Via Sacra”, writes Horace in one of his most famous satires: “I was wandering haphazardly on the Sacred Way”. Casualness. Sacredness. It’s curious.
I don’t know if Horace says this on purpose. Nor Marinelli, sprinkling canvases in the yard, knows which mechanism could spring out from them. You go round the fate again and again, as if a capricious legislation ruled a cosmos devoid of law-makers. And it does, in a certain sense.
But without VDR 1-14, MDL 1-20 and TRD 1-10 (a coding deprived of workplaces) I will not be here to witness, I will not reflect again upon the traps of casualness, I will not receive from Maurizio a lesson of readiness in catching and spending parts.
It’s a pity that fate doesn’t exist: we miss all the shock that follows.
On the other hand, cracks open on a different state of conscience.
