“Daphne Descends” Exhibition
With our eyes closed, our feet wet, our cheeks grazed by fresh leaves, we go into the light to find shelter in the shadow, while our lips keep the scent of silence.
It is the calm of the dawn, the beginning of anything, when dreams and thoughts retreat into a garden of paper, and the pages of history fly in the wind like butterflies.
The Exhibition “Daphne Descends” is named after the Smashing Pumpkins’s song, and recalls Apollo and Daphne’s myth. Ten unseen works, with their unmistakable unique features, made in graphite, watercolour, and China ink on wood and paper, guide us through the bliss of a surreal merge with nature.
It is the calm of the dawn, the beginning of anything, when dreams and thoughts retreat into a garden of paper, and the pages of history fly in the wind like butterflies.
The Exhibition “Daphne Descends” is named after the Smashing Pumpkins’s song, and recalls Apollo and Daphne’s myth. Ten unseen works, with their unmistakable unique features, made in graphite, watercolour, and China ink on wood and paper, guide us through the bliss of a surreal merge with nature.
The maid turns into a tree, roots flow inside her skin breaking her pale colouring. On the body of the beautiful porcelain doll, cracks appear as if it was a shell. A metamorphosis is taking place, it is the only chance to survive that Love made of ash, and give it life back by hiding within a never born dream, to be kept in secret, in silence where it turns light and mild.
Now love is sublimated, it is the eternal shadow of itself, and can last forever in the middle of an uncontaminated universe as in a legend, a myth, or a fairy tale.
Now love is sublimated, it is the eternal shadow of itself, and can last forever in the middle of an uncontaminated universe as in a legend, a myth, or a fairy tale.
For Alessia and her drawings… by night and day
The drawing’s morphology screens and seduces the eye going through the pores of the paper or the grain of the wood.
It melts in sweet, pink marshmallow and throbbing arteries among Ovid, Carroll and Elisabeth Siddal’s lost daughter.
In Alessia’s drawings, the leaves of the wood are dense and hangings between the blind beauty of the faces and the awareness of sutured wounds by flocks of multi-coloured hummingbirds.
It is important that time does not show us the end of the book, making us lose the dates from the calendar of dreams where Daphne’s bucolic desire escapes the lusts of the flesh by her desire of an ineffable and absolute purity as in childhood truth when the book of life inexorably … turns page!
It melts in sweet, pink marshmallow and throbbing arteries among Ovid, Carroll and Elisabeth Siddal’s lost daughter.
In Alessia’s drawings, the leaves of the wood are dense and hangings between the blind beauty of the faces and the awareness of sutured wounds by flocks of multi-coloured hummingbirds.
It is important that time does not show us the end of the book, making us lose the dates from the calendar of dreams where Daphne’s bucolic desire escapes the lusts of the flesh by her desire of an ineffable and absolute purity as in childhood truth when the book of life inexorably … turns page!
