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  • Curating according to Augusto Maurandi, founder of Spazio Punch in Venice 

    IT

    The former Giudecca industrial brewery in Venice has become an emblem of alternative and experimental culture for more than a decade. This is where Spazio Punch, founded by Augusto Maurandi and Lucia Veronesi, was established in 2011 and is now a landmark of the city’s independent art scene.

    Augusto Maurandi, as he is keen to emphasize, is not a curator in the traditional sense. Instead, he is interested in a horizontal relationship with artists, far from hierarchical dynamics and theoretical superstructures. The aim is not to frame the works, but to accompany them in their most authentic context, creating resonance between people, ideas, and languages. Just as it happens at Spazio Punch, the place he founded together with Lucia Veronesi on the Giudecca Island in Venice. 

    The exhibition Peekaboo has been described as an attempt by Spazio Punch to position itself at the fringes of traditional curating, navigating between social networks and artistic practices. What drove you to explore this boundary zone? How do you think social media can contaminate, enrich, or even redefine curatorial practice today? 
    It’s at the boundaries that things happen. 
    Peekaboo (12-27 April 2025) was an experiment. Spencer Lackney is a U.S. actor with an Instagram profile ‒ @spencerlookrey ‒ with 3 million followers. He is not a contemporary artist within the system, and that’s precisely what interested us. We had to go through his Hollywood agent, initiating a dialogue through an additional layer of mediation beyond the digital medium. 
    We were excited to enter an unknown world. Spencer works with a constant flow of online reels; the challenge was to take that language and give it a physical space, to create installations with videos designed for Instagram ‒ slowing them down without domesticating them. To create these installation spaces, we collaborated with set designer Cosimo Ferrigolo, who gave the set-up a physicality that brought it close to a theatrical experience. 
    The result was a techno-narrative choreographic device between analog and digital, where the boundary between inside and outside completely dissolved. If the exhibition is a body, social media is its molecular structure. With Peekaboo, we wanted to listen to that rhythm, to be traversed by it. And to stay, even just for a moment, in that threshold of vibration before the flow of images and presences returned to the digital. For a brief time, that spirit inhabited Spazio Punch with us. 

    You’ve often expressed a clear distance from the traditional figure of the curator. What experiences or reflections led you to take such a firm position and develop a more horizontal and relational approach? 
    Taking distance was a necessary gesture for me ‒ almost physiological. A posture that allowed me to reflect and detach from certain repetitive and often stereotyped dynamics. 
    It wasn’t an ideological rejection of the curator as such, but a critique of what that figure has become in many contemporary practices: an exercise in power disguised as thought, often sustained by texts saturated with citations to justify empty projects. 
    I don’t feel distant from figures like Germano Celant, who turned writing into a curatorial device capable of conceptualizing entire movements. Or Catherine David, who with Documenta X drew clear lines between aesthetics and geopolitics, opening spaces to lateral voices and recognizing the specific weight of archives and documents. Nor from Massimiliano Gioni, who contaminated the museum context with outsider art, popular culture, and eccentric collections. 
    When you truly work with artists, you understand that an exhibition is, first and foremost, collective energy. It requires attention, real care. To curate is not to direct but to accompany. It’s a practice of listening and trust. Without trust, there is no exhibition. 

    THE MEANING OF CURATING ACCORDING TO AUGUSTO MAURANDI 

    Do we still need curators? 
    I believe the figure of the curator can take many forms. The important thing is that it finds its own specificity, its own language, its own method of study. 
    I’m thinking, for example, of the exhibition Fragile Masculinity (23 March ‒ 5 April 2024) by Geelherme Vieira ‒ another project born on Instagram. In the early meetings, we were a true volcano of ideas and materials. It was one of those moments when everything seems possible even error, excess, risk. 
    That’s precisely why I chose to entrust the curatorship to Tommaso Speretta, a Venice-based curator, writer, and editor. Tommaso has worked for years on LGBTQIA+ artistic practices: we needed an external gaze, a sensitivity in choosing material and building the exhibition narrative. 
    So, to answer your question: yes, I believe we still need curators. The key is knowing when to be present ‒ and when it’s time to disappear. 

    What qualities guide you when deciding to collaborate with an artist? 
    Vertigo. The desire to see something I’ve never seen before, or something I already know but that now appears different. That’s when the spark ignites. Then, of course, passion is needed. But above all: intuition. 
    It’s like falling in love ‒ you can’t explain why, but you feel it in your bones. 
    Like with the last concert we presented: Motore Immobile + Rappel (8 June 2025) by Giusto Pio. It was the first time in fifty years that these compositions were performed live. Original works by the Italian minimalist composer Giusto Pio, long-time collaborator of Franco Battiato. 
    My choices always originate there ‒ from the desire to discover something new or to show what already exists from another perspective. 
    Passion. Intuition. It’s you. I want you. Desire. 

    What is Spazio Punch’s role in today’s Venetian cultural landscape? 
    From the beginning, Spazio Punch has aimed to bring something new, to shift paradigms, to question the contemporary ‒ looking forward, but also backward, offering fresh and timely interpretations. 
    During the lockdown years, we had to slalom just to keep projects going. One emblematic example was our collaboration with Fondazione Malutta, with whom we had planned a month-long exhibition at Punch. Due to lockdown, they ended up being trapped with us for over six months. That unexpected event turned Punch into a studio, a training ground. It was a unique opportunity to work on large formats, consolidate the group, and produce works. 
    In that period, alongside Venice-based curator Giulia Morucchio, we curated Penisola (20 May ‒ 1 August 2021), an exhibition about Italian photography and publishing, Belmondo (19 February 19 – 26 March 2022), a group show of young creatives working across visual art, fashion, music, design, and performance, and TV Punch (19-21 March 2021), an experimental TV format created in response to the limitations caused by government restrictions during the pandemic. 
    We were among the first to give space to emerging creatives by showcasing final university projects ‒ particularly those from Iuav Venice. We believe in new energies, which is rare in the Venetian context. Just look at the gallery and institution programs; until two years ago, everything was very different ‒ there was no space for young people. Today something has opened up, and that’s an encouraging sign. I believe Punch has sowed fertile ground for beautiful things to happen. 

    THE HISTORY OF SPAZIO PUNCH 

    What challenges do you face in maintaining an independent and experimental position within such an institutionalized context as Venice? 
    We’ve been labeled as independent and experimental, which to me simply means doing the exhibitions I’d like to see ‒ and that our audience wants to see ‒ even if it means taking risks on difficult-to-contain projects. 
    The audience that participates feels part of the project because, ultimately, they truly are. 
    Of course, it would be easier to operate within a more consolidated institution. But experiences like the Cruising Pavilion (24 May – 1 July 2018) ‒ a show that approached architecture through gay sex practices and cruising cultures ‒ are unique and, above all, only possible in places like Spazio Punch. 
    It’s a precarious balance between the freedoms and the (dis)advantages that every position entails. 

    What does “independent culture” mean to you today? 
    I immediately think of Indie as a musical category ‒ for its creative freedom, experimentation, low budgets, and DIY (Do It Yourself) approach. I strongly identify with all these aspects, and if the work presented is of quality, you won’t be isolated. DIY is always also DIWO (Do It With Others). 

    Is it still a political stance, or has it become another form of institution? 
    Independence is always a political stance ‒ but not in a rhetorical sense. It’s political in how you choose who to work with and what to show. 
    Independence is a daily micropolitics ‒ not a banner, but a practice. 
    Just like the political slogans on the clothes and armchairs of Walter Van Beirendonck’s A/W 2025–2026 collection, which we brought to Venice for the 19th Venice Architecture Biennale as part of the exhibition Alien Couch (10 May – 27 July 2025). These aren’t empty slogans but a clear statement ‒ both his and ours ‒ about the times we’re living in. 
    Punch has always inhabited the margins, engaging with cultural, ideological, and gender peripheries. In our projects, we value creativity and try to avoid folkloristic or propagandistic self-representations of hardship. 

    What role does publishing play in your curatorial vision? 
    For us, a double-page spread is a foldable exhibition. Sometimes a publication says more than a show: it’s slower, more intimate, more elusive, leaving traces that last longer. 
    The gap between text and image, layout and content, becomes a true curatorial ecosystem. 
    The Edicola (25 May – 30 June 2012), curated with scholar and curator Saul Marcadent, explored independent publishing ‒ one of the first such shows in Italy ‒ and is a concrete example. So too are the exhibition Sniffing Books. Myths, Stigmas, and Writings on Drugs (20 April – 24 November 2024), curated by researcher Alessia Prati, which we brought to I Never Read in Basel, or the presentation of personal archives like Undusted Archive by Caterina Dal Bianco and Christian Gravante. 

    THE PROJECTS BY SPAZIO PUNCH 

    After more than ten years of activity, how is Spazio Punch evolving? 
    We’re looking for the best way to disappear ‒ and, at the same time, to remain. 
    It’s a tension we enjoy. Every now and then we dream up impossible projects, but then we come back down to earth and start again. 
    We do everything with immense effort and passion, but we lack resources and are always a bit out of breath. 

    What kind of relational dynamics develop over time between you, artists, and collaborators? 
    They are cultivated. They’re nurtured ‒ like plants. 
    Not everything happens within the timeframe of a single exhibition. Some projects begin today and might happen five years from now ‒ or maybe never. 
    What matters is not to burn everything for the hype. Beautiful things need oxygen. 
    I’ve known the designers of Evropa since their Iuav student days. I’ve always followed their work and invited them to present their collections after a long time with the event Mother Nature (16 March 2024). 

    How do you keep a working community alive that goes beyond a single exhibition event? 
    By seeking new experiences and creating unique events. 
    If necessary, we go into hibernation. We can blossom without bearing fruit, waiting patiently to grow again with a future project. 

    What kind of audience would you like to engage with today through your cultural offerings? 
    A transdisciplinary audience that moves between different cultural sectors ‒ art, fashion, architecture, design. 
    Often, the opposite happens: people compartmentalize. But we love creative confusion. 
    We seek those who feel out of place, who want to see something not yet seen or explained. 
    Our dialogue with the city is fluid: we seek true listening, not just an audience. 

    SPAZIO PUNCH AND VENICE 

    How important is the impact of a cultural space on the territory it’s embedded in? 
    A space can have a huge impact on its surroundings. 
    It’s wonderful to see local teenagers come in to explore the exhibitions, to feel them as truly open spaces. 
    But a cultural space can also harm the community or the city if it displaces artisans or residents for profit. 
    When it’s out of sync with the real life of the city, it arrives like a meteor and destroys. 
    Lately, many philanthropists have arrived. Let’s see what they’ll actually do for the city, for the young people, and for the residents. 

    What is your relationship with the physical space, and how does it influence curatorial choices? 
    Punch is not an easy space ‒ and that’s precisely the point. 
    Every exhibition must engage with that body. Some artists understand this immediately; others clash with the reality. 
    But if you accept it, it becomes an ally. 
    In all these years, I can say no installation has been the same as another ‒ every show varies. 
    It has always been fundamental for us to work with designers for the setup. For Alien Couch and Penisola, we worked with the designer duo Zaven ‒ Enrica Cavarzan and Marco Zavagno ‒ based in Venice. The exhibition Garage Dallegret (18 May – 30 November 2023) was realized with Supervoid ‒ Marco Provinciali and Benjamin Gallegos Gabilondo ‒ from Rome. 
    I believe these new professionals capable of creating multimedia devices are essential for giving exhibitions new dimensions of language. 

    Concretely, how does a project take shape at Punch? From conception to realization ‒what are the steps, figures involved, timelines, and tools you use to build an exhibition or event? 
    Everything starts with an idea ‒ with what we feel the need to express in that moment. 
    As you can guess from our program, this idea evolves constantly. It’s discussed internally, questioned, refined. 
    Alessia Prati, our “vibe researcher”, analyzes the topic from the outside, helping us intercept other sensitivities and directions worth exploring. 
    Then the idea is shared with a network of people ‒a community of shifting complicities ‒ close to Punch. It helps us gauge whether it’s worth continuing, if the project resonates. 
    Only then we bring in the graphic designers. 
    For ten years, we worked with Metodo Studio by Paolo Palma, who gave us structure and strength. More recently, we’ve collaborated with Federico Antonini, Alessandro Gori, and Alessandro Antonuccio (HStudio). Each brought different visions and tools. 
    When the project takes shape, setup and all technical/logistical aspects come into play ‒handled by Marta Girardin, the project coordinator, who oversees every phase until completion. 
    In general, there’s no fixed team: each exhibition has its own rhythm, timing, and crew. The tools? Whatever is necessary. Even chance. 

    Paola Caudullo 

    https://www.spaziopunch.com/

    • Exhibition view of GARAGE DALLEGRET at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2023. Courtesy of Marco Cappelletti
      Exhibition view of GARAGE DALLEGRET at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2023. Courtesy of Marco Cappelletti
    • Exhibition view of GARAGE DALLEGRET at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2023. Courtesy of Marco Cappelletti
      Exhibition view of GARAGE DALLEGRET at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2023. Courtesy of Marco Cappelletti
    • Exhibition view of ALIEN COUCH at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
      Exhibition view of ALIEN COUCH at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
    • Exhibition view of Belmondo at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2022. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
      Exhibition view of Belmondo at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2022. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
    • Exhibition view of Belmondo at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2022. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
      Exhibition view of Belmondo at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2022. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
    • Exhibition view of CRUISING PAVILION at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2018. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
      Exhibition view of CRUISING PAVILION at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2018. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
    • Exhibition view of PEEKABOO by Spencer Lackey at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
      Exhibition view of PEEKABOO by Spencer Lackey at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
    • Exhibition view of PEEKABOO by Spencer Lackey at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
      Exhibition view of PEEKABOO by Spencer Lackey at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
    • Exhibition view of PEEKABOO by Spencer Lackey at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
      Exhibition view of PEEKABOO by Spencer Lackey at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
    • Exhibition view of Pesi Massimi by Fondazione Malutta at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2020. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
      Exhibition view of Pesi Massimi by Fondazione Malutta at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2020. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
    • Exhibition view of ALIEN COUCH at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
      Exhibition view of ALIEN COUCH at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2025. Courtesy of Giacomo Bianco
    • Exhibition view of Penisola at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2021. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
      Exhibition view of Penisola at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2021. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
    • Exhibition view of Penisola at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2021. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
      Exhibition view of Penisola at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2021. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
    • Exhibition view of Penisola at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2021. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
      Exhibition view of Penisola at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2021. Courtesy of Spazio Punch
    • Complete List of Projects – Spazio Punch Website
      Complete List of Projects – Spazio Punch Website
    • Exhibition view of *Porous City* at Spazio Punch, Venice, 2012. Courtesy of Spazio Punch.
      Porous City, Spazio Punch, Venezia, 2012, veduta della mostra. Courtesy di Spazio Punch
    • portait of Augusto Maurandi Creative Director Spazio Punch
      Augusto Maurandi Creative Director Spazio Punch

    Translated with AI

    by

    Paola Caudullo

  • Stories of earth and memory: the sculptures by Elio Armano in Padua 

    IT

    On the occasion of Elio Armano’s eightieth birthday, the Archaeological Museum in Padua hosted, until 6 April 2025, an exhibition dedicated to one of the most influential sculptors of the contemporary scene.

    The earth, in its purest essence, becomes art in the hands of Elio Armano (Padua, 1945). 
    Terrestre is not only the material from which his sculpture comes to life, but it is also the deep root of a civic and artistic commitment that spans decades of research and innovation. In the anthological exhibition curated by Stefano Annibaletto and Francesca Veronese, terracotta becomes the thread of a dialogue between past and present that is renewed in the rooms of the Archaeological Museum in Padua. 
    Each work of Armano is a piece of land that tells stories and reveals a sculpture that is not only form, but an act of social and political reflection. Among the archaeological finds, his creations emerge not as mere copies of the past, but as modern interpretations, full of meaning and life. 
    The exhibition has been developed in the rooms of the Eremitani Museum, where the sculptures of Armano have integrated harmoniously with the archaeological context in which they were inserted. His terracotta works, which evoke the craft tradition, were related to ancient finds, creating visual and conceptual connections between different eras.  

    ELIO ARMANO ON SHOW IN PADUA 

    The exhibition retraces the artistic evolution of the sculptor, through a selection of works belonging to the different phases of his artistic research. Among the most significant are the Giardini in scatola made in the 1970s, small landscapes enclosed inside perspective boxes inspired by the painting of Francis Bacon. Once in the Mosaic Hall, we encountered the Teste forate and the Bottoni cosmici, works that move on the borderline between figuration and abstraction, exploring themes related to identity, perception and the human-universe relationship. 
    The installation that matched Armano’s work with the Mesopotamian statuette of Uruk (IV millennium B.C.) exalted the sculpture as a timeless language, able to bring together the interventions of the contemporary artist and the precious archaeological evidence. 
    Armano’s work reflects his openness to different artistic traditions, from African and pre-Columbian sculpture to the visual vocabulary of Henry Moore. His works are never mere aesthetic objects, but vehicles of a social and political message that has its roots in a civil and public dimension, as shown by his vision of sculpture as an integral part of the urban environment. 

    Valeria Eneide 

    https://padovamusei.it/it/eventi-e-mostre/elio-armano-terrestre

    • Elio Armano accanto alla sua opera Busto, realizzata nei primi anni 2000 e fotografata all'interno dei Musei Civici di Padova.
      Elio Armano with the work Busto, 2000s. Photo: Musei Civici di Padova
    • Veduta dell'opera Bottoni cosmici di Elio Armano, creata tra gli anni Novanta e Duemila, documentata nei Musei Civici di Padova.
      Elio Armano, Bottoni cosmici, 1990s–2000s. Photo: Musei Civici di Padova
    • Scorcio dell’opera Condizionamento di Elio Armano, realizzata nei primi anni Duemila e fotografata presso i Musei Civici di Padova.
      Elio Armano, Condizionamento, 2000s. Photo: Musei Civici di Padova
    • Fotografia dell’opera Paesaggio rituale di Elio Armano, risalente agli anni Novanta, conservata nei Musei Civici di Padova.
      Elio Armano, Paesaggio rituale, 1990s. Photo: Musei Civici di Padova

    Translated with AI 

    by

    Valeria Eneide

  • Irony, uneasiness and desire: Cecilia De Nisco’s paintings on display in Thiene

    IT

    “Stavo cercando il tuo cuore lì dentro ma ho trovato solo il latte” (“I was looking for your heart in there, but ionly found milk”) is the title of Cecilia De Nisco’s personal exhibition, curated by Marta Papini and specificallyconceivedfor the spaces of the former Chiesa delle Dimesse in Thiene, in the province of Vicenza, now home to the Bonollo Foundation.Collectors Sandra Dal Santo and Giancarlo Bonollo established the Bonollo Foundation with theintentof promoting and giving value to contemporary art,by means ofinnovative projects that offer visitors a perspective on the current international art scene. Inline with thisgoal,the collectors were drawn to the work of Cecilia De Nisco(b. 1997, Parma), who created seven oil paintings specifically for thespaces of the former Chiesa delle Dimesse, the headquarters of the Bonollo Foundation in Thiene, under the curatorship of Marta Papini.The exhibition, on display until the first of March 2025, opened with the altarpiece Marameo, housed inside a finely decorated niche adorned with floral ornaments. The work introduces the viewer to De Nisco’s artistic exploration, where moving bodies intertwine within an undefined space. Thefigures seemto orbit silently around the body lying on the ground, driven by an obsessive attraction to its flesh. 

    CECILIA DE NISCO’S EXHIBITION IN THIENE

    Irony characterizes the titles of De Nisco’s works,as seen inPiccole catastrofi per minuti intimi #1 (Small catastrophes for intimate minutes #1): the figure on the right seems to surrender to a painful embrace, evoking the encounter between the cold blue of the sky and the warm atmospheric hues that envelop the faces. The intimacy of the scene is suggested by the hand in the foreground, a symbolic element omnipresent in De Nisco’s painting.Inthe workFrecciatine, the hands transform into dark silhouettes that wrap around the human figures, emerging from the shadows to clutch their bodies. Within the flow of a timeless rhythm, the pure innocence of the figure at the bottom softens the violent act unfolding at the center of the scene. Fragile balances between demonic and childlike forces animate the artist’s world where, within a grotesque framework, a subtly ironic grin takes shape,embodied bythe mocking face in Slacciami la vita(Untiemy life).

    THE ART AS CONCEIVED BY CECILIA DE NISCO

    In the intimate scenes painted by Cecilia De Nisco, the subtle discomfort animating thecharactersseeps into the viewer’s perception, making them feel like an unwanted intruder. Tonal contrasts, movemen, and facial expressions reflect the artist’s desire to create a dimension suspended between irony and uneasiness, in a constant tension between desireand denial. The exhibition in Thiene, masterfully curated by Marta Papini, invites us to contemplate De Nisco’s great works with a curious gaze, to tiptoe into her ethereal spaces. 

    Giada Bartolini

    https://fondazionebonollo.com/progetti/stavo-cercando-il-tuo-cuore-li-dentro-cecilia-de-nisco/

    • Maramèo is a 2024 oil painting on linen measuring 120 by 228 cm. The work is presented courtesy of the artist and VIN VIN Vienna/Naples.
      Maramèo, 2024, oil on linen, 120×228 cm. Courtesy the Artist and VIN VIN Vienna/Naples
    • Installation view of Frecciatine by Cecilia De Nisco, curated by Marta Papini at Fondazione Sandra and Giancarlo Bonollo. Courtesy of the artist and VIN VIN Vienna/Naples.
      Cecilia De Nisco, Frecciatine, installation view curated by Marta Papini, Fondazione Sandra and Giancarlo Bonollo. Courtesy the Artist and VIN VIN Vienna/Naples
    • Installation view of Stavo cercando il tuo cuore lì dentro ma ho trovato solo latte by Cecilia De Nisco, curated by Marta Papini, at Fondazione Sandra e Giancarlo Bonollo.
      Cecilia De Nisco, Stavo cercando il tuo cuore lì dentro ma ho trovato solo latte , installation view curated by Marta Papini, Fondazione Sandra and Giancarlo Bonollo
    • Installation view of Stavo cercando il tuo cuore lì dentro ma ho trovato solo latte by Cecilia De Nisco, curated by Marta Papini, at Fondazione Sandra e Giancarlo Bonollo.
      Cecilia De Nisco, Stavo cercando il tuo cuore lì dentro ma ho trovato solo latte , installation view curated by Marta Papini, Fondazione Sandra and Giancarlo Bonollo
    • Installation view of Stavo cercando il tuo cuore lì dentro ma ho trovato solo latte by Cecilia De Nisco, curated by Marta Papini at Fondazione Sandra and Giancarlo Bonollo. Courtesy of the artist and VIN VIN Vienna/Naples.
      Cecilia De Nisco, Stavo cercando il tuo cuore lì dentro ma ho trovato solo latte , installation view curated by Marta Papini, Fondazione Sandra and Giancarlo Bonollo. Courtesy the Artist and VIN VIN Vienna/Naples

    Translated with AI

    by

    Giada Bartolini

  • Daria Dmytrenko, the artist who narrates herself through memory

    IT

    Freeing the unconscious and not fearing her own abysses: these are the intentions behind the painting of Daria Dmytrenko, a Ukrainian artist now based in Venice. We delved with her into her poetics and the reasons behind research that focuses on interiority. 

    Daria Dmytrenko was born in 1993 in Ukraine, in Dnipropetrovsk, where she started her education. Between 2012 and 2015, she attended painting courses at the National Academy of Visual Arts and Architecture in Kyiv, and in 2021 she graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice, the city where she still lives and works.
    Through her subconscious, Dmytrenko creates free-form compositions that mirror her inner world. Using the oil technique, she realizes mythological figures to bring out her deepest memories.
    In addition to her recent solo exhibition Journey to the center of the mind at the Parisian Stems Gallery, in 2022 Dmytrenko participated in several group exhibitions, including Upon a Time at the Eduardo Secci Gallery in Florence and Fluuuuuido at Cassina Projects in Milan. 

    AN INTERVIEW WITH DARIA DMYTRENKO 

    What led you to become an artist, and what motivated you to take this path?  
    There wasn’t a specific moment when I decided to become an artist ‒ it happened very naturally. I began drawing at the age of four thanks to a painting course, then refined my technique through academic training. It was only after arriving in Italy that I discovered my own method and started painting with a liberated mind, free from the constraints of right and
    wrong.

    In a past interview, you described your works as manifestations of your inner self. Which of them represents you the most and why?  
    There is no painting that represents me the most, but I treasure the ones that have allowed me to understand something about myself. Here in my studio, for instance, I keep a small framed piece ‒ it’s a portrait, the head of a faun. It was one of the very first works where I began exploring my subconscious. I keep it close to remind me of that moment.

    Do you believe that the subconscious manifested in your paintings can really be understood by the viewer?
    All of my paintings are deeply personal, but I believe that anyone can find something in them that reflects their own subconscious. In the end, we’re all human and we all have fears. I’ve met people who saw something familiar in my work and have told me so.

    Is there a memory that often resurfaces in your work?
    There’s no specific memory, but I’ve noticed that all the figures I paint are partially or completely covered in hair. This recurring trait reflects the monsters I used to imagine and still do. They are always a bit animalistic.

    PAINTING ACCORDING TO DARIA DMYTRENKO 

    How do you know when a color is the right one?
    I try to establish the color palette from the very beginning ‒ it often depends on the mood of the day. But I can always change it. If I return to the studio and the color no longer resonates with me, I repaint everything. Still, I try to stay true to the initial tone. I prefer to take my time and think it through rather than rush.

    Have you ever dreamed of one of your paintings?
    I’ve never dreamed of one of my paintings specifically, but I often dream of workshops, sometimes with fellow artists. And I do dream of the environments in my paintings ‒ dark, rocky landscapes with forests that always remain a bit mysterious.

    Through your art were you able to understand something that you were previously unaware of?
    Yes, I didn’t think my childhood and background had shaped me so much. I noticed it through my painting, I see that elements of Slavic mythology often return, creatures that live in those places, superstitions that are passed down from generation to generation and were also told to me as a child. I was scared and wondered what these monsters were like.

    How do you choose the titles of your works?
    It depends, sometimes the title comes immediately to mind while I am painting, looking at the works, as it did with Maculata or Melancholy Valley. I looked at them and it was immediately clear to me. In other cases, once the process is over, I look at the works and think about them, but I never try to come up with a title, I want it to be natural and remain somewhat vague. If I force it too much, it means that the work does not need a title.

    How do you imagine your art evolving in the future?
    I will definitely always work with the subconscious, with somewhat anthropomorphic or animal figures, it will always depend on how I feel. I know that the oil technique is mine, I would not change it, but I hope to have the opportunity to work with other materials, for example I would like to create a fresco, or I hope to experiment with larger media.

    Sofia Battistelli   

    https://www.instagram.com/dmydaria/

    • Golden Avian (2024) by Daria Dmytrenko, oil on board, 35 by 45 cm. Courtesy of the artist.
      Daria Dmytrenko, Golden Avian, 2024,oil on board, 35x45cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • River Bank Night Scene (2024) by Daria Dmytrenko, oil on canvas, 160 by 120 cm. Courtesy of the artist.
      Daria Dmytrenko, River Bank Night Scene, 2024, oil on canvas, 160x120cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • Swamp Bottom (2024) by Daria Dmytrenko, oil on canvas, 36 by 31 cm. Courtesy of the artist.
      Daria Dmytrenko, Swamp bottom, 2024, oil on canvas, 36×31 cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • Timid Grey Creature (2024) by Daria Dmytrenko, oil on board, 32 by 24 cm. Courtesy of the artist.
      Daria Dmytrenko, Timid Grey Creature, 2024, oil on board, 32x24cm. Courtesy of the artist

    Translated with AI

    by

    Sofia Battistelli

  • Telling war and peace in an exhibition. It happens in Bergamo 

    IT

    The need to narrate war and the urgency to build peace are at the heart of the group exhibition on view at gres art 671 in Bergamo until 12 October 2025. The exhibition design is signed by 2050+. 

    de bello. notes on war and peace is the first group exhibition at gres art 671, the new cultural hub in Bergamo opened in 2023 in a former industrial area. Curated by director Francesca Acquati in collaboration with 2050+, and conceived by journalist Salvatore Garzillo and war photographer Gabriele Micalizzi, the exhibition addresses the theme of war in a universal way, without analyzing individual conflicts but denouncing violence in all its forms. The aim is to break down historical, physical and geopolitical barriers, using art as a means to transform pain into resilience. The viewer is invited to reflect on the brutality of war and the savagery humans are capable of inflicting upon one another through a narrative that emphasizes the urgency of peace. 
    The exhibition unfolds across five thematic sections – apparent peace, alarm, war, ruins, resistance –, each contributing to a collective narrative shaped by the work of more than thirty artists, including Marina Abramović, Joseph Beuys, and Anselm Kiefer. The mediums span from painting to sculpture, from photography to video, and sound. 
    The exhibition develops from the curatorial and exhibition design conceived by 2050+ (Erica Petrillo and Ippolito Pestellini Laparelli), an interdisciplinary studio that combines curatorial practices and architecture. The installation consists of prefabricated bricks and concrete that, when assembled, evoke the appearance of a dismembered house: soft lighting, openings in the walls and rubble create a deeply emotional experience. 

    THE EXHIBITION “DE BELLO. NOTES ON WAR AND PEACE” IN BERGAMO 

    The precariousness of peace and the advance of war through propaganda characterize the first section of the exhibition, dedicated to apparent peace. In the second section ‒ alarm ‒, the exhibition is structured to engage the viewer even more. One finds oneself in an environment loaded with sounds, sirens and drones ‒ activated without warning and perceived as threats. As visitors move deeper into the space, unease intensifies. A monochromatic labyrinth of walls grows taller, culminating in the central section – war. These towering, suffocating structures do not allow one to look beyond. The eye thus focuses on the large tapestries displaying the photography of Gabriele Micalizzi. These works convey the chaos of conflict, the fight for freedom, and the quiet, haunting endurance that follows devastation. Ruins, the penultimate section, unfolds through a narrow corridor where there are works that express the idea of devastation and what remains. Among them is Alfredo Jaar’s 2013 lightbox Milan, 1946: Lucio Fontana visits his studio on his return from Argentina, capturing the artist walking over the ruins of his bombed-out workspace. 

    THE EXHIBITION DESIGN BY 2050+ 

    The final section – resistance – closes the exhibition on a note of resilience. Here, war-torn landscapes, shattered walls, and scattered objects are reframed as symbols of endurance. One poignant example is Joseph Beuys’ 1969 Sled (Schlitten), which evokes his own wartime survival and healing through materials imbued with metaphorical meanings. In this closing space, the heavy walls recede. Natural light floods in through large windows overlooking the internal garden, suggesting clarity, recovery, and hope after a harrowing journey through conflict. 
    With this project, 2050+ has done more than staging an exhibition. They’ve crafted an immersive experience – a spatial manifesto that amplifies the core message of the show: reject war. Now and always. 

    Maddalena Domenghini 

    https://gresart671.org/it/activities/de-bello-notes-on-war-and-peace

    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol
    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol
    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol
    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol
    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol
    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol
    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol
    • Installation view of De Bello. Notes on War and Peace at Gres Art 671, Bergamo. Photo by Diego De Pol.
      de bello. notes on war and peace, installation view, gres art 671, Bergamo. Photo credit: Diego De Pol

    Translated with AI

    by

    Maddalena Domenghini

  • A journey into artistic audacity: the opening exhibition of 21Gallery in Padua

    IT

    In the historic center of Padua opens the new 21Gallery with an exhibition that, until 30 August2025, celebrates the art of free thought through a century of avant-garde and provocations. Among the artists are Francesco Clemente, Damien Hirst, Takashi Murakami.

    At a time when critical thinking is often sidelined and conformity disguised as the norm, freedom of expression takes on an increasingly urgent value. Art is no longerjust form or representation, it becomes possibility. A fertile ground for uncomfortable visions and eccentric voices. It is on this line that moves AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, the inaugural exhibition of 21Gallery’s new headquarters in Padua. The exhibition celebrates not only the power of free thought, but the city itself, which has always welcomed and cultivated intellectual freedom, transforming it into knowledge, art and innovation. “Padua is a city that has never feared free thought. Its spirit has always been that of those who dare, those who challenge the above,thosewho look beyond”, writes Elena Comin, director of the gallery, in the introductory text of the catalogue, evoking the figure of Galileo Galilei and the innovative painting of Giotto.

    THE 21GALLERY IN PADUA

    The momentum towards cultural autonomy and avant-garde that characterizes the history of Padua is now given a new form in the AUDACIexhibition and the mission of 21Gallery.With the opening of the Paduaheadquarters, the vision of the gallery, born in 2021 in Treviso thanks to the support of Alessandro Benetton, who has chosen to invest in the ideas of the young entrepreneur Davide Vanin, is strengthened and expanded. The project was born with the aim of promoting culture,with a particular focus on visual arts, generatinga positive impact on the territory, promotingthe dialogue between art and business and makingthe art system more accessible, involvingnew collectors and offering concrete support to the artists represented.The exhibition, curated by Cesare Biasini Selvaggi, traces an itinerary that goes from the historical avant-garde to the most radical protagonists of the contemporary scene.An exploration of independent thought, subversive creativity, art as a force for resistance: visions that have challenged the dogmas of their time and often paid the price with isolation, censorship, discredit.

    THE AUDACI EXHIBITION AT THE 21GALLERY

    Among the thirty or so works on display, we find names who have written decisive pages in the history of modern and contemporary art: from the futuristic dynamism of Balla to the abstract and vibrant painting of Accardi. But it is in the works of Cindy Sherman and Catherine Opie that one of the most intense turning points becomes evident: identity, the representation of the body as a battlefield. The final part of the exhibition looks at the present with a lucid and criticaleye. Among the invited artists, Gonzalo Borondo and Laika address current issues with direct and provocative language. The mask, in the case of Laika, is a tool for redefining creative freedom.An approach that brings to mind the practices of artists such as Manu Invisible and Andrea Villa,mentionedhere but not in the exhibition, who use art as a form of activism. An exhibition such as AUDACIinvites the spectator to observe an art that renounces complacency in order to become necessity. Because the most vital art arises from indocile thinking, by those who do not stop questioning the world.

    Valeria Eneide

    https://21gallery.it/

    https://www.instagram.com/21_gallery_/

    • AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, exhibition view, 21Gallery, Padua, 2025. Photo Giacomo Bianco
    • Installation view of the exhibition AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, held at 21Gallery in Padua in 2025. Photograph by Giacomo Bianco.
      AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, exhibition view, 21Gallery, Padua, 2025. Photo Giacomo Bianco
    • Installation view of the exhibition AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, held at 21Gallery in Padua in 2025. Photograph by Giacomo Bianco.
      AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, exhibition view, 21Gallery, Padua, 2025. Photo Giacomo Bianco
    • Installation view of the exhibition AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, held at 21Gallery in Padua in 2025. Photograph by Giacomo Bianco.
      AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, exhibition view, 21Gallery, Padua, 2025. Photo Giacomo Bianco
    • Installation view of the exhibition AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, held at 21Gallery in Padua in 2025. Photograph by Giacomo Bianco.
      AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, exhibition view, 21Gallery, Padua, 2025. Photo Giacomo Bianco
    • Installation view of the exhibition AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, held at 21Gallery in Padua in 2025. Photograph by Giacomo Bianco.
      AUDACI. Dalle avanguardie storiche agli artisti mascherati, l’arte del libero pensiero, exhibition view, 21Gallery, Padua, 2025. Photo Giacomo Bianco

    Translated with AI

    by

    Valeria Eneide

  • In Venice Gulnur Mukazhanova and textile art as a mirror of the soul  

    IT

    The exhibition “Memory of Hope” by Kazakh artist Gulnur Mukazhanova, hosted in the Sala delle Colonne at Ca’ Giustinian in Venice, is configured as a journey into memory, identity and spirituality through the language of weaving. 

    The exhibition Memory of Hope in the Sala delle Colonne at Ca’ Giustinian is part of the project È il vento che fa il cielo. La Biennale di Venezia sulle orme di Marco Polo. It is an initiative of the Biennale’ Historical Archives curated by Luigia Lonardelli to celebrate the 700th anniversary of Marco Polo’s death. The Biennale’s Historical Archives thus becomes a reservoir of active memory, where the past is not just documentation but living material to build new narratives. The first stage of the project was in Hangzhou, China, with Il sentiero perfetto. The second stage, in Venice, featured Gulnur Mukazhanova, who explored the geography of a lesser-known journey, that of Marco Polo’s father and uncle, Niccolò and Matteo, across the Kazakh steppes, a place of connection and exchange between East and West. 

    GULNUR MUKAZHANOVA IN VENICE 

    Gulnur Mukazhanova (b. 1984, Semipalatinsk), after specializing in textile arts at the National Academy of Arts in Almaty, moved to Berlin in 2008 and attended the Kunsthochschule Berlin-Weißensee, deepening her knowledge of textile art and establishing a dialogue between her culture of origin and the European context. The Kazakh artist’s attention is therefore focused on little-known archives and stories, giving shape to works that combine the need to recover one’s origins and the desire to project oneself into the future. The Venetian exhibition invited the visitor to walk around the work along its perimeter, in an environment that has become a place of introspection. The three layers of fabric that cover it represent the different dimensions of human existence: body, mind and soul. Developed in an infinite shape, if observed in plan it reveals lines that ideally rise towards heaven and descend towards the underworld, resting on an oval platform that recalls a flame, a symbol of transformation and renewal. The layers depict the symbolism of the tree of life which, in the Kazakh nomadic tradition, has a profound meaning of union between the sky, the earth and human beings. The weave of fabrics, pouring like a waterfall onto the last layer, reflects the formation of personal and collective identity, the soul of every individual and society, suggesting that it develops through experiences lived thanks to the body and the mind.  

    THE WORKS BY GULNUR MUKAZHANOVA 

    The work communicates with the space by incorporating the columns that, from simple architectural elements, become visual obstacles capable of stimulating the visitor’s imagination, encouraging them to ask themselves what lies behind the columns. The layering of fabrics evokes a non-static identity. Many different textiles have been used: the merino wool felt stands out and it symbolizes the connection to nomadic cultural roots, the combed merino wool has been chosen for its fineness and softness, the white silk recalls light and the vegetable viscose velvet, a fabric historically produced in Russia until the 1980s, then banned for environmental reasons. All this is combined with scraps from Chinese production. Each fabric is worked differently to express specific conceptual qualities, incorporating symbols such as the dragon, a mythological creature as a metaphor for rebirth, continuity and spiritual guidance, and the phoenix, which evokes the ideas of regeneration and beauty. “In the archives there is living matter […] The archive is that instinct that we all have to classify in order to understand ourselves,” explained the curator Luigia Lonardelli during the presentation of the project at Ca’ Giustinian. 
    After Venice, the project will stop in Istanbul in the autumn of 2025, continuing the path of research and dialogue between cultures along the stages of Marco Polo’s journey. 

    Linda Rubino 

    https://www.labiennale.org/it/news/la-mostra-‘gulnur-mukazhanova-memory-hope’

    https://gulnurmukazhanova.com/

    • Exhibition view of Memory of Hope by Gulnur Mukazhanova at Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Andrea Avezzù, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Gulnur Mukazhanova. Memory of Hope, exhibition view, Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venezia 2024 – 25. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Portrait of Gulnur Mukazhanova. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Portrait of Gulnur Mukazhanova. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Portrait of Gulnur Mukazhanova and Luigia Lonardelli. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Portrait of Gulnur Mukazhanova and Luigia Lonardelli. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Exhibition view of Memory of Hope by Gulnur Mukazhanova at Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Andrea Avezzù, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Gulnur Mukazhanova. Memory of Hope , exhibition view, Ca ’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venezia 2024 – 25. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Exhibition view of Memory of Hope by Gulnur Mukazhanova at Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Andrea Avezzù, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Gulnur Mukazhanova. Memory of Hope , exhibition view, Ca ’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venezia 2024 – 25. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Exhibition view of Memory of Hope by Gulnur Mukazhanova at Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Andrea Avezzù, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Gulnur Mukazhanova. Memory of Hope , exhibition view, Ca ’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venezia 2024 – 25. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Exhibition view of Memory of Hope by Gulnur Mukazhanova at Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Andrea Avezzù, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Gulnur Mukazhanova. Memory of Hope , exhibition view, Ca ’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venezia 2024 – 25. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Exhibition view of Memory of Hope by Gulnur Mukazhanova at Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Andrea Avezzù, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Gulnur Mukazhanova. Memory of Hope , exhibition view, Ca ’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venezia 2024 – 25. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
    • Exhibition view of Memory of Hope by Gulnur Mukazhanova at Ca’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Andrea Avezzù, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia
      Gulnur Mukazhanova. Memory of Hope , exhibition view, Ca ’ Giustinian, Sala delle Colonne, Venezia 2024 – 25. Photo Andrea Avezzù, Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

    by

    Linda Rubino

  • The spiritual in photography. An interview with Eleonora Busato 

    IT

    A young artist who uses the photographic medium to rediscover and interpret nature, in search of lost faith, Eleonora Busato tells the themes and dynamics that characterize her work. 

    Eleonora Busato was born in 1999 in Vicenza, where she spent her childhood immersed in the nature of the Veneto countryside. She moved to Paris for a Bachelor’s degree in Art History and Archaeology at the Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne and a Master’s degree in Photography at the Université Paris 8.  Between 2022 and 2024, she participated in several group and solo exhibitions in France and in Italy and also experimented in the curatorial field. We met her during a studio visit at one of the ateliers of the Bevilacqua La Masa Foundation on the island of Giudecca in Venice. What is most striking is her passion in telling her story, in talking about photography and her love for nature, as can be seen from the black and white shots and cyanotypes displayed on the studio walls. Busato’s research, which begun with her thesis project, explores the spiritual through photographic practice, using nature as a starting point in the rediscovery of God. Documentary approach and poetic investigation meet and merge, generating images charged with mystery and spirituality. 

    THE PHOTOGRAPHER ELEONORA BUSATO 

    Can you tell us about your studies and how this has affected your artistic research? I spent almost all of my academic career in France, combining theoretical and practical studies. My three-year degree in Art History at the Sorbonne have certainly influenced me on a didactic level, getting used to writing, criticism, the foundations of art history and a global understanding of artistic institutions. They are solid foundations, from which I began to trace my path of research and creation.  
    From the Sorbonne I moved to the University of Paris 8, in order to study practical and theoretical subjects specific to photography. The Paris 8 years were an exceptional moment of discovery. I had the freedom to confront myself with a variety of approaches and different tools, to understand gradually which subjects and which working methods suited me best.  The master’s degree course initiated me, specifically, to conduct double research, parallel and complementary, theoretical and practical. It is a type of approach that has proved very effective in my case. The hours spent in the library are balanced with those spent in the laboratory, history and theory of photography become a reassurance, a map to consult when you want to create something of your own, to contextualize it, not to feel lost. 

    What made you choose photography as your main medium of expression? How do you approach it? 
    Among a multitude of mediums, since childhood I felt a particular predisposition towards photography. Over time it has confirmed itself as a practice that can amaze me. The photographic image often causes me a sense of wonder, because it depends on a mechanism that sometimes seems almost magical to me, because of how it relates to tangible reality. In this way I seem to have in my hands a prodigious instrument! It seems to me, thanks to it, that I can experience some fundamental principles of our existence: light, time, matter.  
    I have often asked myself: “Why photograph?”. I believe that in my case the answer may revolve around the desire to establish a connection with something special. I also think that photography can really be a practice of reconciliation towards a multitude of spheres that concern us, from the social to the geographical. 

    Is there any photographer you feel particularly close to or inspired by? 
    There are a lot of them! As I said, I like to build my discourses and works on the basis of an observation of the experiences and artistic achievements of those who have come before me. There are works that touch me, that particularly move me, where I have identified what for me are expressive and human truths. I am referring to the work of Sally Mann, Robert Adams, Minor White, Emmet Gowin, Alessandra Sanguinetti. 

    What photographic techniques are you using at the moment and which ones would you like to experiment with? 
    At the moment I’m shooting a lot in analogue black and white and I’m working with cyanotype printing. I would like to experiment with anthotype printing, which exploits the photosensitivity of plants and flowers. 

    THE PROJECTS BY ELEONORA BUSATO 

    The search for God explored through photography resulted in Looking for God, a poetic and paradoxical undertaking in which you try to capture with a snapshot something that our senses cannot perceive. Do you think you have succeeded? Would you retrace the steps of this process? 
    I believe I have succeeded in reproducing photographically an experience that was truly particularly sensitive, in the sense of very related to my senses. It was a bit like making images that are, as Alfred Stieglitz said, “equivalents” of what I felt emotionally, but in a very concrete context. A real game of correspondences between the inner world and the outer world. Perhaps what we sometimes fail to do is not so much to perceive, but rather to explain, to interpret these reciprocities.  
    To make Looking for God I basically went “in search of God” by retracing the same path over and over: the one between the church in my country along the banks of the river, leading to the Beata’s house. The landscape, with all its elements and characters, was the territory of meeting between my personal experience and a universality of symbols and geographical and cultural references. In all this, the photographic image has become the support of a miraculous and documentary revelation, which is manifested in this case in the enchantment of a poetic discourse that deals with belief, magic, nature, tradition. 
    Finally, I understood the spiritual in photography as a human attempt to relate and to understand its own contexts and mysteries, through the very terms of tangible reality: photography can carry a message and become an instrument of hope. 

    Why, after you left, did you feel the need to return home to search for the faith that you were slowly abandoning? 
    Very banally, I went back to look for God where I had last seen him, I retrace the road in reverse, as you do when you lose something and you want to find it again. 

    Le Jardin d’Éden is your latest project in development. It revolves around the theme of the garden, but it is also a search permeated by other topics dear to you and well connected to it, such as spirituality, culture, territory and ecology. Where does the will to examine this space come from? 
    I knew that I wanted to continue my work from the very topics you mentioned, and I needed a foothold, an idea that would determine the connection with a new phase of research. In my readings, I identified an interesting weighting that placed the concept of the garden on the same level as the landscape, making them de facto sanctuaries of truth. The word paradise comes from Persian and literally means “walled enclosure”, delimited: the synopsis, in a certain sense, of what the photographer sees through the optical viewfinder. The garden then seemed to me an extremely interesting starting point. 

    During the studio visit you often mentioned Robert Adams’ text Beauty in Photography. Essays in defense of traditional values. Could it be said that he played a central role in the development of your current research? 
    Absolutely. He talks about the garden in that sense. I studied the integrality of his work, photographic and critical, and began to trust it deeply. There is something extremely comforting in his work, it is a reference and a guide for me. 

    ELEONORA BUSATO, VENICE AND THE FUTURE 

    How did you get to do a residency at the Bevilacqua La Masa Foundation? Why did you choose Venice to pursue your projects? 
    I came to the residency in Venice because, in order to pursue my work, I had to be close to the geographical context that I wanted to study and represent. I think this is one of the cons (or pros) of photography, which sometimes stresses you physically, body and soul. The Bevilacqua La Masa seemed to me the perfect framework in which to fit in, where I could have a space and a human and institutional confrontation, while I work on my photographic project in the Veneto region. 

    Have you already participated in exhibitions or fairs? If so, did you take care of the set-up or were you assisted by a curator? 
    Of course, I have participated in numerous exhibitions. I took care of the set-ups both independently and in collaboration with curators. 

    What do you expect from a good curator? 
    I expect, perhaps more than anything else, a certain curiosity: an attitude that then excludes a result impersonal and cold. I also appreciate when a curator has good editorial, writing skills. 

    What are your plans for the future? 
    I’m trying to think of my path one step at a time. For the months I see ahead of me, the prospect is to deepen and then master the printing techniques I have approached, in particular anthotypy. Beyond that I’m not thinking too much about the future, the present moment is very exciting to me, I don’t want to lose sight of it. 

    Laura Ferrone 

    https://busatoeleonora.wixsite.com/photography

    • Cyanotype print by Eleonora Busato from the series Le Jardin d’Éden, 2024, featuring a delicate botanical composition in deep blue tones
      Eleonora Busato, Untitled, from the series Le Jardin d’Éden, 2024, cyanotype print on paper, 12.5 × 12.5 cm
    • Cyanotype print by Eleonora Busato from the series Le Jardin d’Éden, 2024, featuring a delicate botanical composition in deep blue tones.
      Eleonora Busato, Untitled, from the series Le Jardin d’Éden, 2024, cyanotype print on paper, 12.5 × 12.5 cm
    • Digitally scanned inkjet print from Eleonora Busato’s series Looking for God, 2024, evoking spiritual themes through abstract photographic textures
      Eleonora Busato, Untitled, from the series Looking for God, 2024, digital scan of inkjet print, variable dimensions
    • Digitally scanned inkjet print from Eleonora Busato’s series Looking for God, 2024, evoking spiritual themes through abstract photographic textures
      Eleonora Busato, Untitled, from the series Looking for God, 2024, digital scan of inkjet print, variable dimensions

    Translated with AI

    by

    Laura Ferrone

  • Enigmas and nostalgia of a chivalric past. Interview with Bogdan Koshevoy

    IT

    We met Bogdan Koshevoy during a studio visit in Venice, on the island of Giudecca. The artist welcomed us into his bright atelier, which he shares with his partner and painter Daria Dmytrenko. 

    Born in 1993 in Dnipropetrovsk, Ukraine, Bogdan Koshevoy lives and works in Venice. In his paintings, the landscape ‒ characterized by romantic-gothic atmospheres ‒ hosts forgotten architectures, following visual reminiscences born from the artist’s deepest fascinations and melancholies. These are undefined places, suspended between enchantment and mystery, inhabited by silent creatures and stories told through the artist’s gesture. 

    THE INTERVIEW WITH BOGDAN KOSHEVOY

    Many of your works’ titles often reference your homeland. What is your relationship with your roots? 
    When I was studying at the Academy in Venice and developing my artistic research, I tried to clarify for myself what really interested me, what attracted me even inexplicably. I realized I was particularly fascinated by late 19th-century architecture, with an industrial style, which was very present in the place where I grew up. 

    Is there an emotional, as well as visual, connection to this type of architecture? 
    It’s not just the architecture that determines the connection to my homeland, but also certain elements like the atmosphere created around them, the unique suggestions that arise from this vision. These are a series of details I know well. 
    The artist finds points of reference and, when in crisis or lacking new ideas, clings to something familiar, digging within themselves and focusing on the depth of already known subjects. 

    In your work, I haven’t found portraits or studies of the human body; instead, the landscape is the protagonist. When individuals are present, they are depicted on a smaller scale compared to the majesty of the context. Why haven’t you explored this subject more closely? 
    Actually, when I first arrived at the Academy in Venice, I initially made many portraits; the landscape came later. I turned to landscape because it allows me to build much more. Painting a portrait is much more psychological, whereas with landscape, there are already elements ‒like in a still life, there are various elements you can relate to each other. This allowed me to construct a dialogue within the work, and that’s what I like to do: seek a subtle balance among all these elements, both figurative and abstract, as in the case of colors. The landscape allows me to explore, to build something of my own. 

    THE CREATIVE PROCESS OF BOGDAN KOSHEVOY 

    Your works convey suspended, unsettling atmospheres, on the border between real and unreal. Are these suggestions you have personally experienced, or do they belong to your dream world? 
    It depends. In some cases, they are settings I imagine; other times, I take photos and use them as references. In these cases, there’s a story behind those places ‒ you can notice it by looking at my works. There are scenarios that are more convincing, more real; you can perceive my relationship with that space. 

    Why did you choose the tower as a central element in many of your works? 
    In the area where I grew up, buildings were constructed in the 18th/19th centuries; before that, it was all steppe. As a child, I noticed an abandoned medieval-style tower very close to my grandparents’ house, and I was immediately fascinated by it. It appeared as a somewhat unusual element compared to the rest. Moreover, it was closed, inaccessible. I think there are a series of nuances that connect me to the figure of the tower: isolation, defense, the possibility of seeing things from above. There are details I haven’t often focused on regarding my perception of this architecture, like the fact that it was very tall, it intimidated me and at the same time intrigued me. There is mystery even for me in what I create; in every work I make, how I feel at that moment influences it. It’s a reflection on experiences I’ve had, memories of fragments from the past. 

    You mainly create paintings, but over the course of your career, you have also made some sculptures. Why did you integrate this medium? Did you want to experiment with new techniques and materials? 
    Over the years, I have always done sculpture, but sporadically. In March 2024, on the occasion of a solo exhibition at the Barvinskyi Gallery in Vienna, during the setup phase, I realized there was a large empty space dividing the two rooms. So, I thought of introducing an immersive element, something that wasn’t painting. I was considering how to find the right balance between the spaces by inserting something that would connect the two environments. 

    The sculptures exhibited at the Vienna show recall the structure of a helmet. How do they relate to your paintings? 
    I created several helmets; I thought it would be interesting to take an element from a painting and make it three-dimensional. 

    What materials did you use for your sculptural works? 
    The prototypes were made of papier-mâché, while the works exhibited at the 2024 solo show were made of ceramic, fired and then glazed. 

    BOGDAN KOSHEVOY AND THE ART WORLD 

    What have been the most significant experiences along your artistic journey? 
    I have done some important and diverse things that have taught me a lot. The residency at the Bevilacqua La Masa, although it was a difficult period for me, was significant. The workshops held at Forte Marghera were meaningful; they taught me many things. It was a green space, there was a great atmosphere of exchange among artists, and it was very stimulating. The artist residency at Dolomiti Contemporanee was also a positive experience ‒ I met several artists, found myself immersed in nature, and there was a wonderful community around me. 

    Which figures within the art world have you felt the greatest affinity with? 
    First of all, other artists, but I have also worked with some curators, particularly with a young curator, Eleonora Ghedini. There was an intense dialogue between us; it was interesting to see how she reworked various concepts, even managing to clarify some things for myself. 

    Giada Bartolini 

    https://www.instagram.com/bkoshevoy/

    • Oil painting Nightfall by Bogdan Koshevoy, 2024, evoking twilight through layered brushwork on linen, 80 × 60 cm.
      Bogdan Koshevoy, Nightfall, 2024, oil on linen, 80×60 cm
    • Large-scale oil painting Jade Forest by Bogdan Koshevoy, 2023, featuring dense green tones and organic forms, 170 × 120 cm
      Bogdan Koshevoy, Jade Forest, 2023, oil on canvas, 170×120 cm
    • Small-format oil on linen Shaky Tower by Bogdan Koshevoy, 2024, depicting an abstract, unstable vertical form, 47 × 38 cm
      Bogdan Koshevoy, Shaky Tower, 2024, oil on linen, 47×38 cm
    • Monumental oil on canvas Dusk by Bogdan Koshevoy, 2025, capturing fading light with immersive, atmospheric brushwork, 200 × 150 cm
      Bogdan Koshevoy, Dusk, 2025, oil on canvas, 200×150 cm
    • Oil painting The Outskirts by Bogdan Koshevoy, 2023, exploring peripheral urban or natural landscapes in muted tones, 140 × 114 cm
      Bogdan Koshevoy, The outskirts, 2023, oil on linen, 140×114 cm

    Translated with AI

    by

    Giada Bartolini

  • Fairy tales, science and imagination. An interview with Anastasiya Parvanova

    IT

    The painting of Anastasiya Parvanova, a young Bulgarian artist who found in Venice the ideal setting for her research, takes shape in a colorful subset born from the encounter between the unconscious and the exploration of quantum physics.


    Born in 1990 in Burgas, Bulgaria, Anastasiya Parvanova lives and works between Venice and Sofia. After graduating in Visual Arts and Pedagogy at the Academy of Fine Arts in Sofia, she chose the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice to study painting. From that moment on, Venice became home for Anastasiya Parvanova, as well as being the cradle of her fairy-tale painting. We met her in the Venetian art space zolforosso.

    THE INTERVIEW WITH ANASTASIYA PARVANOVA

    When did you start to develop your distinctive style?
    I think I was strongly influenced by Luisa Badino. It was around 2014, we attended Atelier F during the years of the Academy in Venice. Luisa painted by pouring liquid colors on the canvas that was placed on the floor, like the famous painter Helen Frankenthaler. I liked that way of creating because it’s impossible to control the movement of the colors and their position on canvas. I found it fascinating that water and acrylic act independently of my will. The surprise effect that is generated for the backgrounds of my works allows me to concentrate and control what I want to put in the foreground.

    So, your technique is characterized by acrylic and water?
    Mainly yes, but also by oil and resin. I use acrylic especially for the bases.

    Your expressive force welcomes and externalizes your introspective sphere; however, your research is also based on scientific contents. What are they and how do they fit into your painting?
    Yes, science in my art has an important weight. I consider nature and the inner world of each of us to be extremely close and compatible entities. If science is a means to discover nature and the universe, for example by approaching quantum physics I feel I have the possibility of looking inside myself, of understanding the relationships that bind me to other people, to things. At the same time, however, I like to think that we know that we don’t know. This reassures me because the curiosity to know leads to imagination, which is fundamental for me. My fantastic worlds, represented in my works, give space to my imagination.

    THE SUBJECTS AND THE TECHNIQUE CHOSEN BY PARVANOVA

    Shoes are recurring objects in your works. What do they represent for you? Do they allude to a movement and to your personal evolution?
    The shoes I paint are not shoes. They are creatures, objects to which I attribute a soul. I started representing them by chance, then I liked them and continued. I am pleased when the observer suggests to me the idea that they can be considered a symbol of feminist culture; however, this is not my intention. I am afraid of becoming banal when dealing with such an important topic. I do not want to have the responsibility of narrating and describing a particular gender, I speak of the human. For me, shoes are a portal, they express the idea of travel and therefore of transformation. Shoes come in pairs, there are two, I see them as a crossroads in front of which one must choose which path to take, or they are the faces of the same coin, the two different impulses that can coexist within human being.

    Do you think that your fairy-tale-like painting is influenced by Slavic mythology and its iconography?
    I don’t know, in this case I could answer you with a Bulgarian saying: “When you’re in the soup, you can’t taste it”.

    Speaking of influences, do you think that your aesthetic can be assimilated to the surrealist one?
    I don’t like to categorize myself, I want to feel free. Paradoxically, even though I myself can find affinities between my painting and Surrealism, I distance myself from this idea. Perhaps my eyes and my head have abused this style during my childhood years, my school was full of Dalí’s paintings. Involuntarily I share with Dalí my favorite word which is “hypnagogic” and refers to soft thoughts, those that emerge just before actually falling asleep.

    What is your favorite pictorial movement?
    Impressionism. I like the research behind it, an impressionist painting vibrates, it is not static, you feel it, you perceive for example the atmospheric condition of the landscapes represented.

    What is your desire on a professional level?
    I would like to be able to experiment, not to lock myself in a single style.

    For a visual artist is experimentation always an added value?
    Not necessarily. I believe that it depends a lot on the nature of the artist, I need to change, to feel free. I appreciate those who experiment, just as I respect those who focus on their own style, improving it more and more.

    Lorenza Versienti  

    https://anastasiyaparvanova.com

    • Portrait of artist Anastasiya Parvanova, photographed by Thomas Braida
      Anastasiya Parvanova. Photo Thomas Braida
    • Painting by Anastasiya Parvanova, titled Same Planet Different Worlds, 2024. Oil and acrylic on canvas, 45 × 60 cm.
      Anastasiya Parvanova, Same planet different worlds. Stesso pianeta mondi diversi, 2024. Oil and acrylic on canvas, 45 x 60 cm. Courtesy the artist
    • Painting by Anastasiya Parvanova, titled Back to Earth, 2024. Oil and acrylic on canvas, 45 × 60 cm
      Anastasiya Parvanova, Back to Earth, 2024. Oil and acrylic on canvas, 45 x 60 cm. Courtesy the artist

    Translated with AI

    by

    Lorenza Versienti

  • It takes a beastly physique: interview with critic and curator Angela Vettese

    IT

    Angela Vettese offers us an in-depth look at her working method and the transformations of the art system: a conversation that spans several historical moments between memory, present and some advice for the future. Through the lenses of a multifaceted career (curator, critic, university professor and writer), Angela Vettese shares her vision with clarity and with the strength of a direct and consolidated experience.

    Art critic, curator and author, Angela Vettese (Treviglio, 1959) has always placed the fluidity of critical thinking at the centre of her work, valorising the continuous changes in the way of understanding contemporary art and bearing witness to some historical changes in artistic and curatorial practice. A tenured professor at the IUAV University of Venice, she teaches in the master’s course in Visual Arts, contributing to the training of new generations of curators and artists. She has curated exhibitions for prestigious institutions such as the Galleria Civica in Modena –where she created Yayoi Kusama’s first solo exhibition in an Italian museum –and the Fondazione Bevilacqua La Masa in Venice, collaborating with artists of the calibre of Ugo Rondinone, Richard Hamilton and Yoko Ono. In addition to her curatorial and teaching activities, she has carried out an intense critical production, writing for newspapers such as Il Sole 24 Oreand publishing fundamental essays on the theory of curation and the evolution of the contemporary art system. Her experience allows her to offer a sharp and disenchanted look at cultural dynamics, underlining the importance of a rigorous approach and political awareness for those who want to undertake this profession.
    The interview was born from the meeting that took place during the presentation of the recent restoration of La materia dell’ornamento, a work by Joseph Kosuth set up on the façade of the Fondazione Querini Stampalia in Venice.

    AN INTERVIEW WITH ANGELA VETTESE

    Throughout your career, you’ve observed many different approaches to curatorial practice. What do you think remains constant in this work, and what changes as cultural and institutional dynamics evolve?
    I’ve seen the role of the curator become more defined and grow, especially as it began to replace that of the critic. Critics, who once had a primary role as commentators and writers, also took on the role of exhibition designers. Today, a curator chooses a theme, develops it by selecting the artists for a show, handles the installation (or chooses someone to do it in agreement with them), selects a publisher, and follows the production of the catalogue: it’s a job that begins with a theoretical idea and unfolds through countless practical actions.This isn’t entirely new ‒artists were among the first curators in the avant-garde movements, from Marcel Duchamp (International Exhibition of Surrealism, 1938) to Robert Morris (9 at Leo Castelli, 1968), and even Maurizio Cattelan’s early curatorial efforts (Wrong GalleryandBerlin Biennale, 2006). Alongside them were seminal curators like Pontus Hulte n, Kynaston McShine, and Harald Szeemann from the 1960s onward.Today, what was once a revolutionary shift in roles is becoming a canon: actions such as studio visits, space visits, co-installation with the artist have become obligatory steps, as have certain formats for didactic and informational materials (labels, catalogues, short guides), which now tend to feel repetitive among current curators.

    Curators are often called upon to translate the artistic process into an exhibition or a text. What is the curator’s responsibility in this process? And when, in your opinion, is curatorial work truly effective?
    I appreciate curatorial work that gives value to the artworks, that givesthem space, that doesn’t use artists merely to amplify a curator’s worldview.

    What are the lesser-known difficulties of curatorial work ‒the ones rarely discussed but with a real impact on the process of creating an exhibition?
    The relationship with artists isn’t always easy, especially when they lack clarity in their ideas or have egos that are hard to manage. It takes a lot of patience, especially in creating harmony among the artists as people, and among their works as objects that define the exhibition’s path.

    THE CAREER OF ANGELA VETTESE

    Is there a show or project you curated that left a lasting impression on you ‒not just for the final result but for the process behind it? What made it special or significant?
    I should say first that I’m not “primarily” a curator, as I don’t have much patience for the unexpected.Curating the 1998 and 1999 editions of Arte all’Artewith the Associazione Arte Continua, alongside Florian Matzner, was a great experience (the artists included Eliasson, Rehberger, Kosuth, Buren, Paolini, Erkmen, Theis, Paladino).
    Then I didn’t have much time and above all I got discouraged: two group exhibitions that I cared about, the 52nd Premio Michetti, which exposed the theme of the two shores of the Adriatic in times of great inequality, as well as the Dire Aidsexhibition at the Promotrice in Turinturned out to be extremely difficult due to budget cuts and institutional challenges.Since 2001, I’ve dedicated much of my time to university teaching and directing institutions, so I’ve mostly curated solo exhibitions in the museums I’ve led: I fondly remember the Yayoi Kusama show at Galleria Civica di Modena, her first solo exhibition in Italy; Ugo Rondinone’s solo show in Modena, with the help of his then-partner, the poet John Giorno, who gifted me magical moments; and also Richard Hamilton’s show at the Bevilacqua La Masa Foundation in Venice, with the involvement of his wife, son, and the entire Venetian staff, with great precision, but also fun. Other memorable exhibitions include solo shows by Rebecca Horn, Yoko Ono, Peter Doig at Bevilacqua La Masa in Venice, and Magdalena Abakanowicz at the Fondazione Pomodoro in Milan.
    However, I would not have had the strength of character for a collective exhibition with two hundred participants. It takes a beastly physique.

    In the contemporary art world, we often talk about networking and professional relationships. How important have human connections been in your career? Have any encounters with curators or artists significantly shaped your experience?
    There are curators I admire and have learned a lot from, even just by observing them like Ute Meta Bauer and Marta Kuzma‒, both peers and younger professionals. I’ve learned less from the “old masters”: they were often quite possessive of their know -how, and their working methods are not really repeatable today.

    ANGELA VETTESE AND THE ART WORLD

    We often describe a career as a linear path, but in reality it’s full of detours, accelerations, and pauses. Looking back, is there something you would do again, but in a different way?
    I think I should have continued directing museums instead of focusing on academia. But I don’t like to dwell on missed opportunities. There’s also a kind of glass ceiling: every time I was offered the directorship of an important museum ‒and it happened at least three times ‒, I was eventually pushed aside in favourof equally qualified candidates who had more explicit political backing. You don’t get handed a museum with a significant budget unless you’re the choice of a political figure with enough power to put you there.

    In your opinion, does art criticism still make sense today? Does it still serve a function ‒whether positive or negative?
    I enjoy writing, but I’d rather describe myself as a chronicler. It’s something I’ve always done for newspapers and in the books I write. I’m not even sure how to define criticism anymore ‒ and I don’t think I’m the only one.

    If you had to distil one piece of advice from your journey, what would you say to someone who wants to enter this profession today?
    I’d say the level of professionalism required today is very high, so one must train thoroughly and also spend time abroad. If you want to work in Italy, you’ll need specific political alliances. Otherwise, you’ll work outside the country, where that issue is less intrusive. In a constantly shifting artistic landscape, Angela Vettese leaves us with a lucid and pragmatic reflection: being a curator today means moving with awareness between passion, external influences, and pragmatism. Love for art is not enough ‒ it takes a beastly physique, and perhaps a touch of disillusionment. But for those willing to put themselves on the line, opportunities do exist. And who knows ‒ maybe the right path lies hidden in the detours and pauses.


    Leonardo Piazza

    • Portrait of Angela Vettese and Florian Matzner. Photo © Associazione Arte Continua
      Angela Vettese and Florian Matzner © Associazione Arte Continua
    • Portrait of Olafur Eliasson, Tobias Rehberger and Angela Vettese at Casole d’Elsa © Associazione Arte Continua
      Joseph Kosuth with Angela Vettese © Associazione Arte Continua
    • Olafur Eliasson, Tobias Rehberger and Angela Vettese at Casole d’Elsa © Associazione Arte Continua

    by

    Leonardo Piazza

  • A dialogue between Giorgio Andreotta Calò and Arturo Martini in Venice

    IT

    Until 4 March 4 2025, the Dom Pérignon Rooms at Ca’ Pesaro–International Gallery of Modern Art in Venice hosted “Sculpture as a Dead Language”, an exhibition focused on the dialogue between Giorgio Andreotta Calò and the city, starting from the reflections of Arturo Martini. With a selection of works spanning over two decades of the artist’s career, the exhibition invited visitors to reflect on sculpture as a living trace, made of memory and material.

    The small yet precious exhibition by Giorgio Andreotta Calò (Venice, 1979) in the Dom Pérignon Rooms of Ca’ Pesaro sparked an extensive reflection on material, in relation to the space that has both welcomed and generated it. Curated by Elisabetta Barisoni, the exhibition draws from the renowned text by Arturo Martini La scultura lingua morta, published in Venice in 1945. This anguished declaration radically attacks sculpture, questioning whether itcan be redemptive or universal. From Martini’s deep and intimate questioning arose a dialogue, a tête-à-tête, between Giorgio Andreotta Calò and his native city. Venice is framed as a reservoir of visual and auditory stimuli, as well as rhythmic crossingsto which one can always return. The dialogue highlights the plasticity and physicality of Venice, guiding us through the heart of the “dead language” ‒ a journey marked by the works of Andreotta Calò created over the course of twenty years.

    GIORGIO ANDREOTTA CALÒ IN VENICE

    The first work is encountered almost by chance: Medusa, one of the many pieces from the artist’s expansive series, now part of the civic collection of Ca’ Pesaro thanks to the Piano per l’Arte Contemporanea (PAC2021). Conceived as a “faulty” work, it has been revised and reworked multiple times. Today, it is positioned in a bright corner along the first-floor landing of the museum. Giorgio Andreotta Calò describes it as “rightly brutal,” comparing it to the shifting, twisted form of the palace itself.After ascending a few steps, the first of the Dom Pérignon Rooms at Ca’ Pesaro, intentionally dark and intimate, housed a unique example from the Medusaseries (a subject very dear to the artist), placed in dialogue with Martini’s famous Testa di Medusa(1929). The two round, imposing heads rested on a white pedestal, the base of which extended into a mirrored panel that reflected the two sculptures in a 360-degree view, all amplified by the soft, almost gloomy lighting.

    GIORGIO ANDREOTTA CALÒ AT CA’ PESARO

    In the second room, overlooking the Grand Canal, Calò explored the history of the building and the various structural changes it has undergone through his celebrated Clessidre, Pinne Nobilis, and Carotaggi series. On the floor, visitorscould admire the Carotaggi, the result of investigations carried out by the Public Works professionals of the Municipality of Venice on the façade of Ca’ Pesaro itself. The Pinna Nobilisseries, named after the mollusk whose survival is now at risk, consisted of shell-like sculptures scattered throughout the room, even extending to the small balcony outside. They resemble a cocoon opening and serve as a tribute to Venice, the artist’s mother city.Finally, the imposing Clessidre, several models of which were displayed, were created between 2017 and 2022. They evoke the union between Giorgio Andreotta Calò’s art, his city, and the space itself. Their form mirrors the trunks of the lagoon, sunk in the water and corroded by time and the rhythm of the waves.Framing this visceral relationship with Venice, on the walls of the final room were research, drawings, and traces from photographic campaigns in the collections of Ca’ Pesaro, reflections and intertwining of a history merging with Calò’s works, thanks to the collaboration with the young Venetian collective Ipercubo (Nicolò Brunetta, Matteo Rattini, Stefano Stoppa, and Erica Toffanin), who producesand curatesartistic projects related to publishing.

    Zita Alberti 

    https://capesaro.visitmuve.it/it/mostre/mostre-in-corso/giorgio-andreotta-calo/2024/03/23278/giorgio-andreotta-calo-2/

    • Exhibition view of Scultura lingua morta by Giorgio Andreotta Calò at Ca’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d’Arte Moderna, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Irene Fanizza
      Giorgio Andreotta Calò. Scultura lingua morta , exhibition view, Ca ’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d ’ Arte Moderna, Venice 2024 – 25. Photo Irene Fanizza
    • Exhibition view of Scultura lingua morta by Giorgio Andreotta Calò at Ca’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d’Arte Moderna, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Irene Fanizza
      Giorgio Andreotta Calò. Scultura lingua morta , exhibition view, Ca ’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d ’ Arte Moderna, Venice 2024 – 25. Photo Irene Fanizza
    • Exhibition view of Scultura lingua morta by Giorgio Andreotta Calò at Ca’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d’Arte Moderna, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Irene Fanizza
      Giorgio Andreotta Calò. Scultura lingua morta , exhibition view, Ca ’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d ’ Arte Moderna, Venice 2024 – 25. Photo Irene Fanizza
    • Exhibition view of Scultura lingua morta by Giorgio Andreotta Calò at Ca’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d’Arte Moderna, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Irene Fanizza
      Giorgio Andreotta Calò. Scultura lingua morta , exhibition view, Ca ’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d ’ Arte Moderna, Venice 2024 – 25. Photo Irene Fanizza
    • Exhibition view of Scultura lingua morta by Giorgio Andreotta Calò at Ca’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d’Arte Moderna, Venice, 2024-25. Photo by Irene Fanizza
      Giorgio Andreotta Calò. Scultura lingua morta , exhibition view, Ca ’ Pesaro – Galleria Internazionale d ’ Arte Moderna, Venice 2024 – 25. Photo Irene Fanizza

    Translated with AI

    by

    Zita Alberti

  • Curating value, preserving time. A conversation with Filippo Lotti from Art Defender 

    IT

    Filippo Lotti, former director of Sotheby’s Italia, and now CEO of Art Defender – a company specializing in the safeguarding, conservation, and protection of valuable artworks – reflects on the meaning of “curating” in art today, where market dynamics, critical thought, and responsibility converge. This interview explores recent transformations in the art world and the increasingly strategic role of curatorship.

    Born in Arezzo in 1963, Filippo Lotti is a singular presence in the Italian art scene. His unconventional career has seamlessly bridged thought, discipline, strategy, and aesthetics. After graduating in Philosophy from the University of Florence, he joined Sotheby’s Italy in 1987 as the head of rare books department ‒ pursuing a lifelong passion. He worked at the prestigious auction house for nearly four decades, eventually becoming its General Manager.

    In 2024, he took on a new role as CEO of Art Defender, which provides logistics, protection, and conservation services for artworks. This transition is not a farewell to the art market, but rather a return to the original sense of curating: to take care.
    We met him to discuss what it means to “curate” today, the value and responsibilities embedded in the art market, and the often subtle, sometimes tense, dialogue between artists, collectors, and institutions.

    THE INTERVIEW WITH FILIPPO LOTTI 

    You have a background in philosophy. How did you balance critical thinking with the commercial logic of your professional career?
    One of the advantages of studying philosophy is that it proves useful in virtually any profession. A minimum of critical thinking is essential even in a commercial role like mine, which also includes a part of academic research.

    Over your forty years at Sotheby’s Italy, you’ve witnessed many shifts in the art market, such as the transition from live auctions to private sales and digital platforms. What are the key differences in managing these formats?
    The procedure is largely the same, but live auctions rely on the auctioneer and the auction house to create a compelling, almost theatrical atmosphere to encourage participation. Online sales are user-friendly and convenient, but inevitably more impersonal. The rise of private sales was a natural response to a globalized market with increasingly varied client needs.

    Auctions are often perceived as distant from curatorial practices, yet formats like Contemporary Curated involve curators and cultural figures from fashion, food, and other sectors to help shape the sales catalogue. How important is curatorship from a commercial perspective? Could it help attract younger collectors?
    Absolutely. Beyond the academic or scholarly value, strong curatorship brings specificity and uniqueness to a project ‒ even a commercial one ‒, making it more appealing to buyers and more engaging for younger audiences.

    Has a curatorial intuition – yours or someone else’s – ever had a decisive impact on an artist’s career or a sale?
    Perhaps not decisive, but it certainly contributed to the commercial consolidation of an artist. One example is the monographic sale dedicated to Damien Hirst by Sotheby’s London in 2008.

    AUCTIONS, THE MARKET AND CURATING ACCORDING TO FILIPPO LOTTI

    The role of the curator is changing: a hybrid between advisor, strategist, sometimes even becoming a brand for artists and collections. Is this an evolution that you also notice?
    I think it can be defined as such, especially at an international level. I’m not sure how desirable this evolution is, but it certainly reflects the times we live in.

    After dedicating most of your career to the art market, you’re now leading Art Defender. What does it mean to care for an artwork today?
    Caring for an artwork can be expressed in many ways: conservation, restoration, research, or enhancement, and each of these aspects requires increasingly specialized professional figures.

    Alice Longo 

    https://www.artdefender.it/

    • Portrait of Filippo Lotti photographed by Oscar Giacomini
      Filippo Lotti’s portrait. Ph. Oscar Giacomini

    Translated with AI

    by

    Alice Longo

  • Pure and forbidden: the political body of Saskia Colwell on show in Venice

    IT

    Charcoal portraits of fragmented bodies challenged the gaze in the Venetian venue of Victoria Miro Gallery, which hosted Saskia Colwell’s solo exhibition until 15 March 2025.

    Skin on Skin is the title of the solo show by painter Saskia Colwell (b.1999,London), that opened on the first of February 2025, in the Venetian spaces of the Victoria Miro Gallery. Uponentering, the semi darkness embraced the viewer and directed the gaze towards the only illuminated spots in the room: the nine works from a series started by the artist during her residency in Venice in May 2024 and later completed in her London studio. The clinical precision in the arrangement of the works on the walls and the gallery’s mini malist setting echoed the figurative perfection of bodyparts, often intimate and explicit, that the artist compelsus to look at. But compulsion turns into pleasure through Colwell’s drawings: a voyeuristic yet modest pleasure of those who know they are looking at the “forbidden.” The dense darkness of the black backgrounds frames the whiteness of marble-like bodies caught in moments of plastic contortion and unnatural poses, that destabilize and seduce. These portraits are in an ambiguous position between the scientific clarity of photography and a surprising statuesque, almost “Michelangeloesque” three dimensionality. This effectis made possible by the technique Colwell uses to press charcoal onto vellum, which replaces the more common linen or paper: “skin on skin, as the artist describe s it. This organic surface, once alive and now dead, adds further layers and depth to her works.

    SASKIA COLWELL’S EXHIBITION IN VENICE


    In Turning the other Cheek, the chiaroscuro of the anatomical hollows, the folds of the skin, the softness of the flesh, and the perfect curve of the twisting spine, all coming together to “offer the other cheek (or rather, the other buttock), enhance the image, inviting us not only to look closer, but to look deeper, unveiling an already unveiled body, to touch it, to live it. Through the exaggerated and isolated rendering of her own body, abstracted enough to become ours as well, the artist invites viewers to experience and reconnect with their own bodies in an active process ofself awareness. But it is in portraits like Praise the Lord that Colwell’s political and provocative intentions become most evident: two feet symmetrically touch each other like praying hands, but the figure being addressed is not the Lord, it’s a vulva. The open groin reveals a blooming of clitoral flesh, that emerges like a flower from a field of pubic hair. With this image, Colwell subtly desecrates the sacred and transforms the obscene into the erotic. It becomes a political act of reclamation, placing at center stage the “obscene”, the erogenous zones of the female body, censored for centuries by decency laws.

    THE WORKS BY SASKIA COLWELL AT VICTORIA MIRO GALLERY

    But if it’s true that today a glut of pornographic images makes everything easily visible and consumable, it’s also true that many other images are banned by algorithms that decide what can and cannot be shown, what is appropriate and what is not, a robotic process that often becomes uncritical censorship, suffered by the artist herself on social platforms like Instagram. In response to this heteropatriarchal control policy embedded in AI, Saskia Colwell creates deceptive visions of the female body, sometimes inserting orifices where they should not be, or not showing them where they are, disrupting the system. She creates a glitch that fools the algorithm, making it unable to categorize her work as human anatomy. In doing so, she escapes AI’s control over the female body and exposes its effects on the exploration of sexuality. The nine works on display occupy the liminal space between private and public, intimate and distant, lawful and illicit, delicate and raw, classical and contemporary. They offer controversial visions that both attract and repel. The artist invites us to question the ethical and political implications of looking, even in spaces designated for looking like galleries and museums, which Colwell, in another subversive gesture, transforms into places of exploration of so – called “illicit” pleasure.

    Vittoria Morpurgo   

    https://www.victoria-miro.com/

    • Exhibition view of Skin on Skin by Saskia Colwell at Victoria Miro, Venice 2025. Photo © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
      Saskia Colwell: Skin on Skin, exhibition view, Victoria Miro, Venezia 2025 © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
    • Exhibition view of Skin on Skin by Saskia Colwell at Victoria Miro, Venice 2025. Photo © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
      Saskia Colwell: Skin on Skin, exhibition view, Victoria Miro, Venezia 2025 © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
    • Exhibition view of Skin on Skin by Saskia Colwell at Victoria Miro, Venice 2025. Photo © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
      Saskia Colwell: Skin on Skin, exhibition view, Victoria Miro, Venezia 2025 © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
    • Exhibition view of Skin on Skin by Saskia Colwell at Victoria Miro, Venice 2025. Photo © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
      Saskia Colwell: Skin on Skin, exhibition view, Victoria Miro, Venezia 2025 © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
    • Veduta della mostra Skin on Skin di Saskia Colwell presso la galleria Victoria Miro, Venezia, 2025. Installazione espositiva delle opere dell’artista in un contesto contemporaneo. © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy dell’artista e di Victoria Miro
      Saskia Colwell: Skin on Skin, exhibition view, Victoria Miro, Venezia 2025 © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
    • Exhibition view of Skin on Skin by Saskia Colwell at Victoria Miro, Venice 2025. Photo © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
      Saskia Colwell: Skin on Skin, exhibition view, Victoria Miro, Venezia 2025 © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
    • Exhibition view of Skin on Skin by Saskia Colwell at Victoria Miro, Venice 2025. Photo © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro
      Saskia Colwell: Skin on Skin, exhibition view, Victoria Miro, Venezia 2025 © Saskia Colwell. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro

    Translated with AI

    by

    Vittoria Morpurgo

  • Self-analysis of a cowboy. Interview with the painter Alessandro Miotti

    IT

    On the occasion of the group exhibition “Moonkillers”, on display until 15 March 15 2025 at the Tommaso Calabro Gallery in Venice, we asked Alessandro Miotti to describe his poetics of the subconscious and his ambitions.

    Alessandro Miotti, born in Sandrigo (VI) in 1991, has graduated in Visual Arts at the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice, the city where he lives and works. He has participated in various group exhibitions and workshops, both in Italy and abroad, including Salon Palermo 4, at the RizzutoGallery in Palermo, curated by Antonio Grulli and Francesco De Grandi, [ahr-kahyv], (Depa Archive) at the Gustaaf Callierlaan 15, 9000, Ghent, curated by Pieter-Jan De Paepe; Haunted Garden, at The Artist Room Gallery in Soho, curated by Leonardo De Vito, Hôtel-Dieu at the AplusA gallery in Venice, curated in collaboration with the School for Curatorial Studies Venice, and Summer Workshop 2022 by Studio Enrique Martínez Celaya in Los Angeles. He is part of the artist-run collective zolforosso, founded in Venice in 2017. His most recurrent subjects, dogs and cowboys, derive both from artistic tradition and Miotti’s childhood. The painter investigates aspects of the human unconscious through a distorted and original representation of his memories. After a preliminary encounter in his studio in Mestre, we spoke with him in Tommaso Calabro’s gallery in Venice.

    AN INTERVIEW WITH ALESSANDRO MIOTTI

    Why did you choose the Academy of Fine Arts over going abroad, where the institutions offer more possibilities?
    My choice was almost random, so I never considered going out of the country. I certainly didn’t think of attending university. However, knowing that as a child I loved to draw, my mother pushed me towards the Academy. That environment immediately struck me, and since I had stopped drawing during adolescence, I felt the itch of wanting to try again. Then I immediately bonded with friends such as Pierluigi Scandiuzzi, Lorenzo Fasi and Fabiano Vicentini, who gave me great excitement. Professor Di Raco, with his discipline, has provided me with a fundamental approach for my work. On the whole, living the atelier was a huge source of inspiration.

    Why did you opt for figurative painting, despite the competitiveness that characterizes this field?
    Maybe I’m a bit biased by the luck I’ve had lately, actually I feel that this is a great time to do painting. Even just ten years ago, there were barely any platforms that could make your work stand out and be disclosed on global scale. Of course to be a painter and live from it is surely difficult, regardless of present conditions.

    How do you move in the international art scene? Do you have a strategy to present yourself to the institutional environment as well?
    I manage my visibility by taking care of my Instagram profile. It is a great way to show the best part of me, which allows me to establish connections with other workers in the sector. I have also expanded my media thanks to figures such as Samuele Visentin, my dealer, and also Antonio Grulli and Tommaso Calabro. A good curator is a key element to bring new art into galleries.

    What role does the curator play for you?
    Samuele Visentin has touched depths that I wanted and demanded, and for this reason we share heartfelt trust. His sincere and non-judgmental gaze is essential in the fragile moments of creation. He shares the same enthusiasm as me in the creative process and has the ability to visualize my drafts already projected into the future, the same way I imagine them.

    Do you think you would be able, together with the curator, to create the right narrative between your works within a solo exhibition? How would you handle it?
    I have been wanting to do a solo show for a long time, to build a more reasoned exhibition. I feel that there should be a game of glances between the subjects I deal with, in order to make them interact by creating cross-references between one painting and another, and stimulating the visitor to grasp them. I would probably always stay on the subject of cowboys, but I figure the leitmotifs would be be Sandrigo, the “country boys”, and all the consequences of growing up in the suburbs and then finding yourself living in a city. I would like to express that “factor of deception”, of the closed mentality one grows up with in certain contexts, to later find total openness, and not understanding one’s own way. I would like to name the exhibition Sandrigo or at least refer to it in the title. I would like to convey that sense of belonging to such a peculiar reality, to the people of that place. The dream is to exhibit at the Castle Gallery in Los Angeles, but for now I’d rather to grow through group exhibitions.

    THE SUBJECTS CHOSEN BY MIOTTI

    What role do dogs play in your works?
    My dogs are like self-portraits, animals that are given anthropomorphic connotations, especially in the gaze. However, there is also a meaning linked to the ordinariness, the plain representation of a canine subject: it is generally perceived as cute, but I give it odd expressiveness. The painting with the bone was the first to express this poetics and derives from a bad break-up. I wondered about what I experienced and how to represent the dual figures of the good and bad dog, who fight for an almost heartshaped bone. When I created these narratives, dogs were my first experiment to communicate my issues in relationships, all those psychological patterns.

    And what about cowboys?
    I’ve always felt a constant piling-up of personal things to express, that’s why I feel drawn to this subject: I want to do something that fills my mood and charges me with a sense of revenge, allowing me to take up my space. Cowboys were born during a workshop in America. I did the first ones in the summer, all black and on horseback. This is because at that time I used to live in a black area of Los Angeles, where the inequality was evident.  They were therefore born from a first attempt to express the feeling of being different, marginalized, which I then sublimated in the later, more personal works. This year I have been working a lot on loneliness, as I have often had FOMO, especially living in Venice. I wondered how I will die, or rather how a part of me will die: loneliness serves as a space to improve oneself, but it must be faced, not avoided or anesthetized through, for example, addictions.

    Your works speak of loneliness but also have an erotic charge. How do you reconcile these two aspects?
    As for the relationship between eroticism and loneliness, understood as marginalization, it is more likely to be experienced by the female gender, given our male-dominated society. The erotic element stands precisely as a counterbalance, displayed in the face of insecurity, aimed at masking it by flaunting a fake nonchalance. The “hyper masculine” connotation of my cowboys completely reflects that: all those attitudes which are introjected by males not to face their insecurities and find purpose through dialogue. When hiding behind fake confidence, one inevitably comes up as funny, and is not true first and foremost to themself.

    THE PAINTINGS BY ALESSANDRO MIOTTI

    How do you organize your day in the studio?
    I usually work at night, although really no one likes to work at that time. The atmosphere at night is magical, there is only me, fewer distractions, and when the flow starts, I want to go along with it until the end, until I have energy. 

    During the studio visit, you described how your paintings are the result of layering materials up to the final touches in oil. What kind of correspondence is there between the creative process and what you feel while painting?
    I also prepare myself psychologically to face work, with all the thoughts it entails, the anger of when things don’t turn out the way you want, the idea of doing something criticizable. My work is still born out of frustration, but overlapping multiple layers of paint is also a way to make it clear that at a certain point I no longer care if the result is clean, smooth. I can challenge myself, have second guesses, dramatically change what I’m doing. I mainly start with oil pastels, creating a free drawing on the canvas. The oil pastel is full of potential because there is no external link between the hand and the stroke. The mix also includes acrylic, spray, and finally the oil that is used to finish and give different technical qualities. My goal is to enhance both the freshness of the picture in its initial phase, and the final touch that confers completeness. This way I feel that my paintings enrich the eye, creating a more vivid representation. The work can be observed in its entirety, but also progressively, dwelling on elements depicted in a vaguer way or on others more structured.

    Do you think your paintings have the power to spark a reflection?
    I hope to send a message, I am excited to know that my works can have an impact on those who see them, that people recognize themselves in them, especially those who do not deal with art. The most important feedback I receive, even in the studio, is from friends who work in completely different fields, who are curious and understand, identify with them. Even my mother manages to grasp something that goes beyond the trivial representation of “smoking joints”, and she gets the energy charge. I aspire to not be inscribed solely in contemporary art, as it happened to Goya: in his paintings there is no formal aspect that dates back to nineteenth-century art, they could have been made yesterday. What makes his work eternal is also the caricatural trait he imprints on the subjects: they are not people who really existed, yet they are real, like my cowboys. My intent is not to totally break with the past, but to create a sense of “revelation” within subjects that are already there.

    Giulia Botteri 

    https://www.instagram.com/miotti_alessandro?igsh=MXVuZm1uNGo4MHpidQ==

    https://www.tommasocalabro.com/mostre/moonkillers

    • Expressive painting by Alessandro Miotti, La fame (e l’amore), 2024. Created with oil pastel, acrylic, and oil paint on canvas, 108.5 × 165.5 cm
      Alessandro Miotti, La fame (e l’amore) 2024. Oil pastel, acrylic painting, and oil painting on canvas, 108,5 x 165,5 cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • Vertical-format painting titled Hey cowgirl (Bruno) by Alessandro Miotti, 2024. Mixed media on canvas, 186 × 136 cm
      Alessandro Miotti, Hey cowgirl (Bruno), 2024. Oil pastel, acrylic painting, and oil painting on canvas.186 x 136 cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • Square canvas by Alessandro Miotti, 2024, featuring layered oil pastel, acrylic, and oil paint. Titled Ancora, e ancora (quante volte ricadrò nelle stesse situazioni), 150 × 150 cm
      Alessandro Miotti Ancora, e ancora (quante volte ricadrò nelle stesse situazioni), 2024. Oil pastel, acrylic painting, and oil painting on canvas. 150 x 150 cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • Mid-size canvas by Alessandro Miotti, Cowboy solo, 2024. Mixed media painting in oil pastel, acrylic, and oil paint, 150 × 200 cm
      Alessandro Miotti, Cowboy solo, 2024. Oil pastel, acrylic painting, and oil painting on canvas, 150 x 200 cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • Monumental painting by Alessandro Miotti, Come ho eliminato tutti (Sceriffi), 2024. Executed in oil pastel, acrylic, and oil paint on canvas, measuring 200 × 300 cm
      Alessandro Miotti, Come ho eliminato tutti (Sceriffi), 2024. Oil pastel, acrylic painting, and oil painting on canvas., 200 x 300 cm. Courtesy of the artist
    • Large-format painting by Alessandro Miotti from 2024, combining oil pastel, acrylic, and oil paint on canvas. The work, titled A tutte le ore del giorno (quattro giorni di pioggia, una luna bugiarda), measures 136 × 186 cm
      Alessandro Miotti, A tutte le ore del giorno (quattro giorni di pioggia, una luna bugiarda) 2024. Oil pastel, acrylic painting, and oil painting on canvas. 36 x 186 cm. Courtesy of the artist

    by

    Giulia Botteri

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