| Water, for me, is a place to research. Primordial water is the birthplace of works of art. Everything originated from small organisms that float in the waters, which were once transformed, not only in our imagination, into fantastic beings, like seductive sirens. Tenuous forms come to life through light, and suggest shapes through their absence. In my works—works built with ancient constructive techniques, but talking of the modern condition—the theme is the shell, the being in its appearance, sometimes without a real presence, in a society in which empty appearances scare us. |  |
Resi Girardello
Water, for me, is a place to research. Primordial water is the birthplace of works of art. Everything originated from small organisms that float in the waters, which were once transformed, not only in our imagination, into fantastic beings, like seductive sirens. Tenuous forms come to life through light, and suggest shapes through their absence. In my works—works built with ancient constructive techniques, but talking of the modern condition—the theme is the shell, the being in its appearance, sometimes without a real presence, in a society in which empty appearances scare us. The frame is real; the content evolves and escapes. To construct shells of magical moments, sirens remain floating shells, tiny primordial beings magnified and revealed in their structures that guard the secrets of futuristic architecture. These shells with the worthy attributes of mythical goddesses of the past—small figures of small worlds, past or here—are meaningful and full of personality. Sometimes my intricately woven “costumed” shells appear on dishes, as if they could be consumed in an ironic dinner. Another theme finds them swinging on swings, as in the mythical Rococo era, when elegance and delicacy were the main themes of art. The swing series focuses on elusive and non-existent women, as if to find that steady archetype of femininity that only our grandmothers could have, and that, despite the emancipation of the contemporary, sometimes is looked at with longing by those who seek their true identity. The reality is revealed in its reflection: elusive as love, which is the engine of the world … yet fleeting and ephemeral as the pleasure of swinging on a swing. Today in Berlin it’s raining outside, but my characters have escaped. I know they want to walk over the rainbow.
