Multimedia Artist
Artistic statement
For several years I have been interested in social structures and the levers that influence interaction at a collective level. Initially through the languages of economics and urban planning, and more recently through instruments that are more akin to collective psychology.
In the wake of the Coronavirus pandemic, I took some trainings in Somatic and Collective Trauma. This taught me that the horizons of possibilities for social interaction are not just influenced by 'visible' structures, but also by a kind of hidden archive of collective emotions and traumas that are often passed on from one generation to the next.
My artistic practice aims to provide playful tools that lie somewhere between economics, pervasive practices in the city and social anthropology. These tools, activated by the public, aim to stimulate empathy and to meet in kindness to encourage alternative collective
narratives.
I believe that humanity's real super-power, when it comes to facing up to societal and environmental challenges, lies in resilience and in the capacity for imagination that this brings.
I therefore believe in the transformative power of playful language. Play is an inclusive form of interaction, it breaks down the barriers between 'artist' and 'audience' and ultimately, through play, we can prove authentic experiences that go beyond our imagination and surprise us.
I see art as a component of daily life and I see art processes as opportunities to open-up to doubt, to dialogue, to self-consciousness, to playfulness.
I like to explore the vernacular, the fringes and the borders as clues of alternative narratives.
I like to draft the stage, to offer opportunities for parallel realities to be filled in by others.
Inclusive textile crafts, such as embroidery, sewing and knitting, provide the tools for me to create not just metaphors and symbolic actions, but also important conceptual intersection between participation, social engagement and spiritual environmental kinship.
Bio
I was raised in Pordenone, a small town in the North-East of Italy. The very same year I was born, my region, Friuli, was hit by a series of earthquakes that destroyed buildings and families. During my childhood, building sites were all over and I became acquainted with the experience of reconstruction. People felt somehow connected through this experience, even though there was not much talking and daily life was rough.
Living in that region during the ‘80s and early ‘90s also meant that the border between the “Eastern” and the “Western” blocks was just a few dozen km away.
I recall check-points experiences, nasty, sometime absurd, but most of all I recall the feeling of crossing the borders.
As a child, I spent whole summers hanging out at my grandmother’s village coffee place.
In the morning, after having milked their cows, attenders would come for a glass of wine and a chat.
My grandmother used to plant marigolds in broken washing-machine drums. Her 10 sqm garden was a mixture of greens growing amidst scrap metal and discharged building materials arranged according to her own very specific aesthetics.
End of the ‘80s was also the era of the first nuclear accident in Chernobyl and of the fall of the Berlin Wall. A decade full of optimism and thrill was yet to come.
I was raised in the illusion that being a talented student, my main duty would be to push my formal education. As a young adult I then moved to Milan to study and work. Business Administration at the Bocconi university first and lately Town Planning at the Politecnico.
Throughout my early adulthood in a big urban center, I learned that people apply strict categories to identify their role in society and I could feel the oppressing presence of structures. It has been an intense time, not always easy.
Travelling has been my companion since then: for holidays, moving to study abroad or for living, eventually landing in Luxembourg, in the hearth of Europe, where I live and work at the intersection of many borders.