La pittura come corpo d'amore.

Nicola Micieli



I letti e le lenzuola.

Guerrino Giorgetti


Unmade beds and sheets that have fallen on the ground or been casually placed on a chair are recurrent motives on my canvases. These subjects attract me and for me they're not just wonderful spots of colour, light and shade, incredible labyrinths for eyes to get lost in.
Interni.

Guerrino Giorgetti.


Often, in a painting, the drapes and cloths, even when abandoned in a casual way, are useful to the artist to enrich a work with spots of colour and play of light. It’s the same with chairs, sofas and armchair – they have important prospective functions in the composition of a canvas. For me, these objects, found by chance in an interior, are especially fascinating – they’re like living entities, frozen in space. They have the flavour of expectation and abandonment – they create an atmosphere of mystery. They are identifying signs of those who have left the stage.
I nudi.

Guerrino Giorgetti


The woman in my nudes often look at the observer or pretend to be asleep or to be looking somewhere else. It’s impossible to say when the female nude become a subject in figurative art, in the way we understand today. Since when the female nude has come into the homes and churches and has become the symbol of harmony and beauty.
Many contemporary painters use the female nude to launch social messages. I try to reproduce the spell I feel when I observe the elegance of the shapes in a body that wants to be admired and won: it’s a hymn to life.
I materassi

Guerrino Giorgetti


Poor twisted, broken, deformed mattresses emerge from the homes that have been devastated by earthquakes, by floods, by booms – frightful images that the television shows us every day without any reserve. Those mattresses are the symbols of unfair violence, of suffering undergone: they don’t claim vendetta, they ask for solidarity.
Rolled up mattresses are like closed, clenched fists – they hold the emotions of those who have slept on them.
I’ve told that many people, when dying, move their fingers, they contract them as if they wanted to grab onto something. Perhaps I’ll paint hands one day – open hands that ask, hands together that pray, closed hands that protest.
Entroterra Italiana

Alessandra Redaelli
introduzione al catalogo della mostra, aprile 2008


(C) MASSIMO MANZELLA per ENTROTERRA