Sala Bolognese, March 27th 2020
Luca Moscariello

I live in Sala Bolognese. An anonymous place. An old typical peasant house which housed farmers and agricultural vehicles not many years ago. A place that has experienced the inclement, silent and methodical work that the earth requires. A timeless labours’ hub, far from the clamour. Walls that have kept this prerogative, transporting that same dedication into what animates my work today.

Inspirations always come without prior notice. It would be easier to tell you how many things I distance myself from. I feed myself mainly on disparate readings and cinema, trying to influence a journey that, however far it may go, always originates from my thoughts. A job that today, quoting Bergonzoni, seeks “the beyond”. Beyond reassurances, beyond sterile images that have weakened the curiosity of the eyes, beyond the timeless time of our time. Beyond the answers. A question.

I believe that colour is the most effective tool I have to keep death at a distance or, at least, outside the studio. I am terrified by the idea of ​​being able to deprive myself of it and therefore I identify the discomfort with white. On the other hand, I grew up in a kaleidoscopic territory, halfway between metaphysics and Lucio Dalla, Cuniberti and Antonioni, Savonarola and Pazienza. A territory pervaded by folkloristic rituals, festivals and alligalli. Irreparably overwhelmed by Fellini. I am the dress of Arlecchino.

There is no change there is a “beyond”, in fact. An “also”. It was a friction that generated the first spark and this is the only way I am interested into. Create an otherness, a further, remaining faithful to the “originality” as De Chirico said, the identification to a matrix and, ultimately, to oneself. There is neither need nor more ineffectiveness of celebrating idols in search of originality. Tarkovskji, Kubrick or Gerhard Richter have taught us that wandering among different genres is a problem for those seeking reassurance. You can swing between saturated environments and empty spaces to be filled, without having to justify yourself, as long as you remain faithful to an obsessive research, to love, to return something that leads you to reflect, to investigate and, perhaps, to an emotion.

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