WATER

Water sometimes floods into my works. It is rain or storm in the woods, with its scents after the night. It is stream, waterfall or water expanse. Criss-crossings of light. Water like magic.

FAIRY TALES

I am very fond, as ever, of fairy tales where magic and nature play the leading role. An enchanted forest, with gnomes, fairies, and elves; a winged horse , a unicorn and also a witch. I am fascinated by mystery and magic, by dreams intended as unexpected, yet prospective reality.

PAINTING

Turner was my very first love; I used to wander around the National Gallery dazzled by surreal light of his canvases, both so realistic and so timeless.

POETRY

I love terse verse, the epigrams, Clemente Rebora's fragments with impressive pictorial-surreal perspectives. I also like Futurist literature and Pascoli, for some rhythmical analogies.

You, in the crowd

I sacrificed my love to be the one
I am

I sacrificed my words
not to say more

I sacrificed my wish
not to desire

I sacrificed my song
to hear you, in the crowd

(2010)

 

Little song of freedom

The music from the mountain is so far
my ear I strain to catch the notes
that climb the mountain to be there alone.

The song of the wind I hear.
Raising my hair as iridescent birds flying away from my hand
To sing a little song of freedom.

(2009)

Walking on the street

Walking on the street
I saw the desert:
odd figures and camels crossing the traffic

Walking on the street
I heard the sound of silence
since I was losing that voice of yours

Walking on the street
i came across His eyes
I had not recognized before.

Walking on the street
I felt that I was soaring
within the atmosphere

(2011)

Butterflies

Growing in my mind there have been butterflies
since I met the sound of you.
Now as then I feel inside a dream in green and blue.

My long hair is made of butterflies
coloured clouds over the garden
where spring falls through

Flying from my heart there have been butterflies
since I heard your heartbeat so deep

Through my wings there are flying butterflies:
all the love that I cannot see.

(2009)

What is the war output?

Disruption, is probably what we immediately think of. Media images are likely to flow before our eyes: when having to face horror we usually think that it resides further away, far removed from our safe stance .
There have been no wars in the Western world for over sixty years, the longest lapse in history, therefore we are led to believe that such tragic events will no longer take place.

Yet it is always advisable not to forget; this is why, among other reasons, the works that artist Brigitta Rossetti created for the'Izimir International Turkey Biennal deserve full appreciation.
In the artist's works, the theme of violence in the war perceived with shut eyes, is represented by small sculptures and paintings reminiscent of shrouds: bandaged bodies covered with a sheet amid the debris, or left to burn out amidst rags.

- Bandaged Face -

When you look at them, you probably think of the faces of the people you love, which cannot be seen on the canvas as they are covered by a shroud; will they ever come back to life? Yet in silent admiration in front of the works of art, we suddenly realise that also the sounds of war, a dull, steady roar, plunge into utter, irreversible silence.
The war dissipates, removes, separates inexorably: this is what those vague shapes resting on plinths that refer to the places where you have been summoned to identify the face of a relative or of a friend who died in dreadful circumstances, seem to suggest.

- Burned Eyes -


Children's voices and heart beats are non longer heard. The shapes of things, colours, your home, your dreams, your children, your belonging to the world, are all lost!
But the war is also, paradoxically, humanity: in times of disruption and dramatic events, people help one another more than in time of peace. So in Brigitta Rossetti's works the B-side comes out; by overtuning the plinths on which the shroud rests , paintings emerge that, by means of a flower, turn sorrow into hope.




- The Shroud -


If you look with greater care, you can see roses coming out from the blood spurts, from the shapeless bodies, from the dull, steady war roar. You become aware of the explicit message sent out by the artist: there cannot be civilization where conquest and the loss of human lives are still a source of pride for history.
We can walk along a different route, which we should build together, to unite all the peoples in the world and foster communal life.

Luigi Franchi and Brigitta Rossetti