“Semitralgia” is an exhibition that plays on the expedient of a nosense title taken from Pokemon (and bringing with it all the imagery attached to it) to give some taste, launch some seeds, of the research of six young artists.
The exhibition started on a Sunday at spazio marea, a space that was used as laic (almost profane) area adjacent to other clerical communities, during a mass that echoed throughout the building. An exhibition to evoke the previous form of spazio marea but in the guise of a former ghost church.
Participating artists: Livia Bertacca, Giacomo Giannantonio, Viola Morini, Juri Simoncini, Eva Vallania, Francesco Bonizzoni
Photos by Mattia Angelini
Un fatuo s’aggirava
nell’interstizio della conca che m’ospitava
gusci rimasti di valva, di lemures
colpi subiti: 1
nell’armadio blurf blurf,
mi sentivo guardare,
da seduto, su un sellino,
il canto della salva
fuffi fluffi ur flutti asciutti,
ciuf ciuf, flur buffi:
la fola che da sempre so raccontare
colpi subiti: 2
verso l’imbrunire, su questo vascello,
un verso baritonale
ho sentito sgraziato,
è il tredici maggio del
millenovecentoventunquattromila (era sopis)
è il tredici maggio
il tredici maggio
colpi subiti: 3
omaggiati dalla nenia della santa chiesa
evangelista di don Rotocalco, canta Maria Stella
Sorbetti, in arte Giosi, presso pieve di via
privata Luigi Cirenei 10, primo piano scala A,
entrata B sinistra
colpi subiti: 4
nata dall’alea e dal mezzo affogamento
del riflesso intirizzito di un alveo ghiacciato
(questa mostra non è mai esistita)
o forse non è andata proprio così
colpi subiti: 5
A fatuous was wandering
In the interstice of the hollow that held me
remaining shells of valva, of lemures
hit 1 time !
in the cupboard blurf blurf,
I felt myself being watched,
seated, on a saddle
pointed at me,
the song of the Salva
fuffi fluffi ur dry waves,
ciuf ciuf, flur buffi:
the fola I’ve always been able to tell
Hit 2 time(s) !
towards dusk, on this vessel,
a baritone verse
I heard ungainly,
It is the thirteenth of May
one thousand nine hundred and twenty-four thousand (era sopis)
it is the thirteenth of May
the thirteenth of May
Hit 3 time(s) !
honored by the dirge of the holy church
evangelist by Don Rotocalco, sings Maria Stella
Sorbetti, in art Giosi, at the parish church in via
private Luigi Cirenei 10, first floor staircase A, entrance B left
Hit 4 time(s) !
born from the alea and half-drowning
of the frozen reflection of a frosty riverbed
(this exhibition never existed)
or maybe it didn’t happen at all
Hit 5 time(s) !
Text/Nursery rhyme by Francesco Bonizzoni
Articipating artists: Viola Morini, Fleisch 023, Marco Brugnera, Vittoria Toscana
Photos by Giulia Bersani
NIGREDO was born out of the need to think about and experiment with a new form of dialogue between artists, starting with a comparison of different creative processes.
Time is fertile matter, it should be observed and listened to in its confused song, in the echo of a scream,
in the chaos.
The primordial void, a kind of dark whirlpool that sucks everything into an endless abyss comparable to a black gaping throat.
In ancient mythologies Chaos is almost always set against the Cosmos, in the sense of a disordered universe, the former and an ordered universe, the latter.
NIGREDO is the starting point from which different and simultaneous speeds spring, in constant conflict: research, setting up, feedback, intent, success, archiving, reflection, defeat…
Is it possible to draw a hierarchy between these different moments?
A particular characteristic of artistic processes is their rituality. Immersed in change, in an incoherent search for justifications, a studio visit for a little peek, enthusiasm and distrust.
Achieving goals means being able to release energy, to feed again and start again following new trajectories.
Sometimes you forget, sometimes you remember.
NIGREDO’s research therefore gravitates around magic, theatre, the religion of history, landscape and the queer alternative.
The former Church of Sant’Antonio Abate in Via Rezzonico in Como is small but compact in its paradox. The most unlikely functions that a sacred structure can host justify its need for attention.
The changes settle down to create a dense mixture of rites and memories, a magma that simmers in silence, a source of very ductile material from which to draw.
The space dematerialises with its trappings, it smells of history, it is made up like a memory.
And it goes on stage,
improvising an infinite repertoire of possible narrations.
The church flattens into a clearing, the audience on its knees looks up at the moon,
an altar, the refuge of an adolescent.
The design of an artistic work now surpasses or gives way to the final result, the precious object shining with its own light,
the light of its new audience of believers.
The process itself, devoid of quantifiable value, is lost in cataloguing, while the performance ends the moment it begins.
NIGREDO is a pure process that is not interested in the product. On the contrary, it seeks new ways of experiencing confused thinking, the possibility of losing, the desire to cast a new gaze on the reality of waste.