work
Paesaggio familiare #2
| category | Painting |
| subject | Landscape |
| tags | street marks, asphalt, landscape, paint |
| base | 59 cm |
| height | 49 cm |
| depth | 0 cm |
| year | 2021 |
bitumen, asphalt, acrylic spray on the back of an oil painting on canvas board
An asphalt tile, within the gilded frame of an oil painting on canvas board by an old minor painter. I just turned it over and worked on the back. it is common in art practice to reuse earlier works rather than new canvases. A gesture partly motivated by money (especially when an artist is just starting out, although nowadays it would be much more IN to say that he or she does it out of an ecological spirit), but in this case mainly related to the oil painting author.
Armando Pelliccioni (1883-1963), a painter, also an art critic and uncle of my maternal grandfather, represents a curious case, in fact although his work is classified as of rather questionable artistic value, as a Bolognese, some of his oils and drawings are in the permanent collections of Mambo and Fondazione Carisbo. This anonymous woodland landscape along with a second painting of the same size and subject was on the corridor walls of the first house I remember living in. My maternal grandparents' apartment at Via Galliera, 34 in Bologna.
I have always thought the most precious part of both those paintings are the massive carved and gilded wooden frames, yet I used to spend endless moments focusing my gaze on the pictorial surface: no more trees and meadows just garish textural brushstrokes, a different landscape in which to get pleasantly lost.
My artwork, an example of an ongoing series, contains street marks frequently encountered while walking on the road, perhaps traced by road workers or law enforcement officers. Faithful reproductions, except for the color. More or less indecipherable marks, sort of tags on horizontal surface. Landscape notes, my usual one. I take possession of some landscape fragments that have the same hypnotic effect as the dense brushstrokes of my painter ancestor.
An asphalt tile, within the gilded frame of an oil painting on canvas board by an old minor painter. I just turned it over and worked on the back. it is common in art practice to reuse earlier works rather than new canvases. A gesture partly motivated by money (especially when an artist is just starting out, although nowadays it would be much more IN to say that he or she does it out of an ecological spirit), but in this case mainly related to the oil painting author.
Armando Pelliccioni (1883-1963), a painter, also an art critic and uncle of my maternal grandfather, represents a curious case, in fact although his work is classified as of rather questionable artistic value, as a Bolognese, some of his oils and drawings are in the permanent collections of Mambo and Fondazione Carisbo. This anonymous woodland landscape along with a second painting of the same size and subject was on the corridor walls of the first house I remember living in. My maternal grandparents' apartment at Via Galliera, 34 in Bologna.
I have always thought the most precious part of both those paintings are the massive carved and gilded wooden frames, yet I used to spend endless moments focusing my gaze on the pictorial surface: no more trees and meadows just garish textural brushstrokes, a different landscape in which to get pleasantly lost.
My artwork, an example of an ongoing series, contains street marks frequently encountered while walking on the road, perhaps traced by road workers or law enforcement officers. Faithful reproductions, except for the color. More or less indecipherable marks, sort of tags on horizontal surface. Landscape notes, my usual one. I take possession of some landscape fragments that have the same hypnotic effect as the dense brushstrokes of my painter ancestor.
