ARTISTIC  FALLACIES

The earliest influences I assimilated trace back to my childhood in the 1970s, a time when I could not have foreseen how powerfully they would shape my art in the decades that followed. During my kindergarten years, I developed a particular fascination with the color orange, which has frequently appeared in my work. At the same time, I paid close attention to dreams associated with different stages of sleep, which, during my early years, curiously tended to recur with striking regularity and captivated me with their consistency. Another early influence emerged from certain optical effects that caught my attention: as a child, I would often fixate on chaotic patterns, such as the designs on the floors in my home. My artistic development was also significantly shaped by the printing errors produced by my father in his home workshop, errors often caused by his impaired eyesight. Unsurprisingly, distorted visions resulting from optical pathologies and visual anomalies, along with graphical imperfections, have consistently served as recurring sources of inspiration in my work. In the 1980s and 1990s, my artistic journey was further enriched by my attendance at lectures held at my city’s astronomical observatory. These experiences inspired me to undertake personal studies in astronomy, chemistry, and geosciences, disciplines I later incorporated into my creations. Today, my practice spans concepts, writing, painting, sculpture, photography, and graphic design, the latter developed in collaboration with a customized artificial intelligence system tailored to meet my creative needs. Every project has originated in digital graphics, which I employ to visualize and situate my works within their real-world contexts before proceeding to their actual realization. I have personally created pigments and fixatives for my paintings and sculptures, ensuring they are entirely harmless to all living beings. Additionally, I designed and constructed a press to grind minerals, crystals, stones, and rocks—materials I have selected both for their aesthetic qualities and for their intrinsic chemical properties, which enable them to generate autonomous and continuous chromatic transformations. My artistic process has always been distinguished by the use of unconventional tools and technologies, often overlooked in traditional artistic contexts, as I continuously experiment with new approaches and solutions.

This site serves as a vibrant and dynamic showcase where Erica’s works and mine converge, enriched by detailed technical explorations, both individual and collaborative: texts, images, videos, sculptures, paintings, drawings, and chronicles of material experiments, alongside bold conceptual and performative challenges. At its core, the site is deeply intertwined with Libro di Buio (Book of Darkness), an ironic autobiography that captures pivotal episodes, chronicling the artistic phases and experiences that have shaped my current creative identity. In the 1990s, using my mother’s typewriter, I composed my first texts recounting the principal memories of my life, starting from birth. I wrote exclusively at night, as it was the only time in a 24-hour day when silence and solitude allowed me to assemble thoughts and memories free from distraction. I lived in an apartment on the twelfth floor, and from my vantage point at the dining table—repurposed as a writing desk—through the large window, I could see only darkness. That very Darkness, evoked in the title, refers to the nocturnal void outside. Within Libro di Buio, I have included my art, techniques, opinions, failed projects, disastrous collaborations, ideas, and, of course, my works. It is a book that will only be complete when my health no longer permits me to write—or when I am no longer here.

From the chapter "Contemporary Senses"

Multisensory Sculpture. Created in 2012 and located in Alfonsine, a small town in the province of Ravenna, Italy.

The idea came to me simply by observing a tree. Moved by the wind, it produced a sound as its branches, fruits, and leaves collided—a natural melody, not uncommon in nature. The air carried an aroma, an intense scent that seemed to emanate from its trunk or perhaps the tree as a whole. For a fleeting moment, the aroma evoked a taste in me, as if I could perceive a specific flavor. It was likely an impression sparked by the sense of smell, but the sensation felt real. Shortly after, I realized that my proximity to the tree was activating my senses simultaneously. I was observing it, touching it, hearing its sounds, smelling its aroma, and, in some inexplicable way, tasting it. That experience led me to conceive an artwork capable of recreating this multisensory fusion. Inspired by these natural inputs, I aimed to design an autonomous piece of art, free from reliance on electricity or intricate mechanisms. The sculpture was also intended to be accessible to people with sensory limitations, so I integrated surfaces with Braille reliefs, enabling tactile reading for the visually impaired. For the sound component, I initially envisioned using natural materials but eventually designed it using mobile elements within the structure. Specifically, I incorporated metal spheres hidden inside internal cavities. These spheres rest on lightweight, flexible springs, creating a deliberate friction-induced sound when set in motion. I also designed a base beneath the sculpture, ensuring that interacting with it—standing or moving—would naturally set it in motion. However, when placed outdoors, the wind took over, generating its own metallic melody. To engage the senses of smell and taste, I used aromatic woods, crystallized resins, and fragrant pigments that could evoke a distinct gustatory sensation.

MY TAKE ON THE ARTISTS 

Observable art has developed through a continuous process over millennia. During prehistory, humans depicted what they saw or imagined they could see, focusing primarily on human figures, animals, and symbols. There was no clear distinction between aesthetic expression and practical function: these were attempts to capture reality or an unreality perceived as real, including visions that were not clearly identifiable. Over the millennia, graphic representations were refined on both symbolic and narrative levels, gradually transforming into tools for aesthetics, worship, power, technical application, communication, decoration, harmony, the pursuit of ideals, psychological exploration, idealization, and conceptual expression in a broader sense. The evolution of art has inevitably been the product of the minds of its creators. Art underwent transformations in its appearance, mediums, figures, and forms, as a direct consequence of changes affecting the artists themselves. From improvised draftsmen and artisans, artists evolved into true creators capable of defining and redefining the boundaries or the trajectories of what we now observe in a cave engraving or a masterpiece. From the presumably anonymous individuals of bygone millennia, we have reached a point where distinct and recognized personalities produce works that are often original or adapted to styles dictated by the demands of patrons. Other artists, however, distanced themselves from the schools and standards of their time, exploring autonomous paths that did not always elicit positive or composed reactions. Today, the artist assumes an extremely multifaceted role, at times exercising creative licenses that may seem excessive. Technological evolution and the digital age are revolutionizing contemporary art, providing tools that open the doors to complexity, which is increasingly reduced and accessible to virtually anyone. With a simple virtual invitation, such as "click here," one can emerge as a creator. "Clickherism" represents the latest evolution in art and is the first movement in history that, potentially, does not even require a human being to create a work. Nonetheless, every artistic event must be contextualized within the specific cultural and temporal dynamics in which it was created. In this regard, the timeless principle of historical contextualization remains more relevant than ever.

Hilma af Klint stands as one of the most complex figures in the history of modern art. A pioneer of abstraction, she anticipated, both conceptually and visually, artists who would later become far more renowned than she. By her own choice, however, much of her work remained hidden from the world for a long time. Despite her excellent and sophisticated technical expertise, she chose not to display a significant portion of her artistic output, which effectively remained in obscurity until twenty years after her death. This delay, self-imposed, was likely driven by her belief that only a spiritually evolved audience could properly interpret the symbols and geometries present in her creations. Her works, steeped in spiritual symbolism, diverged from the trends of emerging abstraction, and her decision not to immediately make them public may have allowed her to shield her creations from critical misunderstanding and premature judgment. However, this remains in the realm of speculation based on available information: it seems Hilma believed the world was not yet ready to understand her message. The influences that shaped her works were rooted in Theosophy and Anthroposophy, movements aimed at reconciling science and spirituality. She participated in spiritualist séances and claimed to have received messages from higher entities that guided her artistic direction. It is not unlikely that some of her more extreme and implausible convictions contributed to her marginalization within the artistic community of her time.