BIO

I was born in Italy in 1965. I graduated at the Polytechnic of Milan (M.Arch.) and worked for several years as a registered architect before moving to Australia. I further pursued my interests gaining a Master in Design Science (Sust. Des. USYD  2011) and studying life drawing and painting at the Julian Ashton School (2014 – 2018). I was semifinalist in the 2017 Doug Moran National Portrait Prize and finalist in the 2021 Lethbridge Small Scale Art Award.

While studying portraiture I came across the work of Mario Ceroli -who in the 1960s was cutting silhouettes from planks of timber- and I was immediately drawn to this 3D variation on the portrait theme. I was also interested in other artists who approached space differently from the usual sculptural way – Lucio Fontana, Alexander Calder, Michelangelo Pistoletto and specifically those using acrylic glass: Lazlo Mohly-Nagy, Margo Lewers, Margel Hinder, Gino Marotta. Stimulated by their research I started to work with acrylic glass, plywood and stainless steel. Working with rigid materials allow me to think spatially, building layered or 3D models. My process begins with hand sketches which are ultimately converted into a digital drawing (cut file). The cut file is read by a laser machine which cuts and engraves the various components from a sheet of chosen material, then the individual parts are either interlocked or stitched together. I cherish the collaboration of mind (planning the project) machine (cutting its parts) and hands (assembling and finishing the work)

I use needlework to “draw” over the sheets of materials and to join different elements in a neat and reversible manner. With geometric compositions I try to achieve with needle and thread the same visual rendering given by ink pens on architectural drawings, aided by the tensile nature of of the yarn and the extreme accuracy of a laser-cut stitching pattern. With naturalistic subjects I prefer to hand drill the stitching pattern, looking for a more spontaneous result, and then I use traditional stitches ( back stitch, chain stitch ) as in normal embroideries on textiles.

In both cases I enjoy using modern industrial technology – either a laser machine or an electric drill –  which allow me to mix different materials and to insert a traditional craft onto seemingly impossible substrates.

I build music models as a way to freeze music in a tangible form. I transpose a section of the score on a two dimensional graph, creating the design which represents the music flow. The resulting model aims to go beyond the functionality of the musical notation to evoke colours, images and emotions associated with the corresponding melody. Of course it doesn’t try to substitute or compete with the aural experience but acts as a powerful reminder of its structure: its configuration mimicking the sequence of notes in their relative heights and duration, colours and shapes relating to the larger narrative of the musical piece. In this way the model stimulates the brain – crossing from the visual to the auditory sense – helping us to recall the memory of that specific tune and the pleasure it gives us.

After studying portraiture with traditional techniques I started to engrave and cut my subjects onto panes of acrylic glass, focusing on profiles. Why profiles? The profile – as a retracing of our own shadow – was the earliest and for a long time the only form of human representation, simple yet very accurate. My plexiglass portraits sit between a bi-dimensional portrait and a proper sculpture. Their colours and transparency make them very sensitive to ambient light: with the right conditions they project their shadows on the wall as luminous, playful images of unexpected poignancy. In fact, our own shadow is an important entity, revolving around us as integral element of our physical presence. Only in the fictional world we find beings who lost their shadow or are battling a rebellious one, a disorder always betraying an anomalous nature, half human or half real ( Die Frau Ohne Shatten, Peter Schlemiel, Peter Pan). The shadow of my models can become the dominant part of the artwork, even more powerful than the plexiglass silhouette in evoking the memory of its subject. I like this fleeting illusion: the funny case of a shadow without its being.