work
Architecture of absence
| category | Painting |
| subject | Human figure, Abstract, Architecture |
| tags | metal, steel, iron, red, abstract, alienazione, dentro di noi, interiorità, architettura, acciaio, metallo, rosso, astratto, metal art, interiority, inside us |
| base | 200 cm |
| height | 130 cm |
| depth | 3 cm |
| year | 2025 |
oil, tempera, acrylic, steel on canvas
An inner architecture we construct without even noticing it. A map made of compulsory paths, closed rooms, corridors that always seem to lead us back to the starting point. The work appears to give shape to this invisible cartography: the metal composition, with its juxtaposed geometries, recalls the floor plan of a building, but as if drawn not to orient, but to reveal the effort of holding oneself together, of containing, of surviving.
The metal structures are not stable. They seem to maintain a temporary balance, a logic that could collapse at any moment. The metal, cold and oxidized, bears the marks of time like fossilized memory. It is cage and boundary, but also threshold: it evokes enclosure, yet suggests the possibility of passage.
Dense and rough, red dominates the surface. A color that does not remain flat, but opens into fissures, scratches, corroded areas. It is not a mere background: it is living matter, pulsing beneath the structure like a body. It is flesh, rage, compressed memory. It is the tension of something still trying to stay upright.
There is no real center in the work, no stable point to cling to. Instead, there is a diffused void, a dissolution crossing the surface and slipping through the structure’s mesh. Inside and outside blur, contaminate each other. Boundaries are no longer clear demarcations, but porous membranes that absorb, yield, recombine.
Within this unstable space, the gaze is prompted to question itself. The cages do not delimit a place, but a condition. The forms do not construct a figure, but a tension. And the metal becomes the symbol of the prison we carry within us: a mental, social, emotional structure. Yet precisely because it is imperfect, worn down, this cage can be questioned, opened, crossed.
The work does not claim to offer answers, nor a way out. Instead, it poses a silent and urgent question: are we still inside, or are we beginning to step across the threshold?
An inner architecture we construct without even noticing it. A map made of compulsory paths, closed rooms, corridors that always seem to lead us back to the starting point. The work appears to give shape to this invisible cartography: the metal composition, with its juxtaposed geometries, recalls the floor plan of a building, but as if drawn not to orient, but to reveal the effort of holding oneself together, of containing, of surviving.
The metal structures are not stable. They seem to maintain a temporary balance, a logic that could collapse at any moment. The metal, cold and oxidized, bears the marks of time like fossilized memory. It is cage and boundary, but also threshold: it evokes enclosure, yet suggests the possibility of passage.
Dense and rough, red dominates the surface. A color that does not remain flat, but opens into fissures, scratches, corroded areas. It is not a mere background: it is living matter, pulsing beneath the structure like a body. It is flesh, rage, compressed memory. It is the tension of something still trying to stay upright.
There is no real center in the work, no stable point to cling to. Instead, there is a diffused void, a dissolution crossing the surface and slipping through the structure’s mesh. Inside and outside blur, contaminate each other. Boundaries are no longer clear demarcations, but porous membranes that absorb, yield, recombine.
Within this unstable space, the gaze is prompted to question itself. The cages do not delimit a place, but a condition. The forms do not construct a figure, but a tension. And the metal becomes the symbol of the prison we carry within us: a mental, social, emotional structure. Yet precisely because it is imperfect, worn down, this cage can be questioned, opened, crossed.
The work does not claim to offer answers, nor a way out. Instead, it poses a silent and urgent question: are we still inside, or are we beginning to step across the threshold?
