Exhibition Review: Fondazione Pomodoro, Milan

View of 1st Floor of Exhibition (f.l.t.r.): 

Corrafo Bonomi Non omnis moriar (1997); Laura Renna Stormo vulgaris (2010);

Fabrizio Corneli Grande Volante VIII (2002); Gianni Dessi Confini 1 (2009)

Paolo Delle Monache Archeologia di un istante (2010)

Fabrizio Corneli Grande Volante VIII (2002)

Gehard Demetz Hitler Mao (2010)

Bertozzi & Casoni Madonna scheletrita (2008)

Loris Cecchini Wallwave Vibrations (quanta canticum) (2009)

I would have to say that this month has been a great time for me to really push myself into going to art events that have been outside my typical comfort zone. So why does the exhibition "The Italian Sculpture of the XXI Century" at the Fondazione Pomodoro fit into this?  

Simple. I am a 2-D girl. It's a sad fact, but that is the work I usually find easier to interpret and am most quickly drawn to. 


Of course, this is not true 100% of the time. There are plenty of sculptures that I have loved since my first art history courses at University of Dallas. However, I always found it easier to write about 2-D work, because in the university setting these images were better transmitted from pages of an art history book or the slide projector in class. Sculptures and installations lose most of their value in this forum. 

What was even more exciting was the rarity of attending an exhibition where I was in awe of so many diverse sculptures and installations. In fact, the entire execution of the show exceeded my expectations. The show, which officially began on the 20th of October and ends on the 20th of January, displayed the most contemporary and recent sculptures and installations by 80 Italian artists.

The Fondazione Pomodoro's architecture adds to the splendor of presenting the works in a space that truly celebrates 3-D works of art, both small and large. This interplay of scale was well balanced in the exhibition and an obvious consideration when viewing contrasting works such as Fabrizio Corneli's Grande Volante VIII (2002) and Paolo Delle Monache's Archeologia de un istante (2010). 

Political themes were also considered in works that presented tyrannical leadership by few and the corrosive pollution by many, as respectively portrayed in Gehard Demetz's Hitler Mao (2010) and Bertozzi and Casoni's Madonna Scheletrita (2008). I was particularly fond of Demetz's work, as I had met the Galerie Rubin’s owners (who loaned this work to the exhibition) in Berlin at Preview Berlin. I will talk more about this and Berlin in my upcoming Recaps. 


Madonna Scheletrita in particular allowed for some interesting conversations between me and some Sicilian friends with who had I had been accompanied to the show. It was nice discussing contemporary art with people who come from completely opposite professional spheres from me (and each other). 

Perhaps the piece that I would want to own was Loris Cecchini's Wallwave Vibrations (Quanto Canticum) (2009), because, in the plainest terms, I thought it was a really visually interesting piece. I just liked it. 


Many times, art is as easy as that. 

Events: Opera Night

 

It happened, I can’t believe it actually happened!

On a rushed Monday night I had the opportunity to go to Milan and hope that there would be a ticket for me for the Teatro alla Scala’s performance of the opera L'Elisir d'amore. Exhausted from my back-to-back art filled days in Spain and Germany, I really wanted to relax at home. (Art people get tired of cultural events from time to time). However, I was reminded that life is worth taking risks and the chance to see an opera at Milan’s prestigious theater was one I might not get again.

So I went. Without a ticket. Running 20 minutes late. I went.

Boy, am I glad I risked it! When we got there, there were no tickets left, but somehow through the magic that is persistence, a ticket 'appeared’. So I headed up to my balcony seat, not exactly sure what to expect, but excited nonetheless.

On a sidenote, I would like to remind my readers that I started this blog to help ease newbies into the art world. I know some events can seem intimidating, but the silver lining is always there – the art. Having said that, the opera crowd is not my scene. I was a little uneasy to be around the more established (aka older) audience members at Milan's Teatro alla Scala. 

Called La Scala to most, Teatro alla Scala is the center of the Italian opera world. In a video about this year's production, the lead male tenor from L'Elisir d'amore, Rolando Villazón from Mexico City, Mexico called it "la cattadrale della lirica" (the cathedral of lyric). His female counterpart was Nino Machaidze a soprano from Tbilisi, Georgia. Paired together and with the help of an energetic cast this production of L'Elisir d'amore proved to be a fantastic interpretation of the amusingly touching romantic comedy. 

Originally written by Gaetano Donizetti in 1831 and set at the end of the 18th century, this year's production was set in the 1950s. Although I could tell that some of the traditionalist opera-goers in the audience were not amused by this interpretation, I thought it was a wonderful way to modernize a work that is well-known amongst Italians, especially those who regularly attend the opera. 

L'Elisir d'amore was wonderful. I would recommend it as the perfect opera for someone unfamiliar with this scene, but willing to try. It is lighter than most operas. The language is not overly difficult to understand, in Italian of course. And best of all, the acting is very funny at times. 

The theater is spectacularly fitting. The interior architecture gilded in gold and the antique lighting immediately recall all the women and men from centuries back who had watched the same opera and sat in the same balcony seat as I had that night. There is something very zen about visiting such an established place in Europe and knowing that you are only one small cog in the history of a place that has celebrated the efforts of composers, playrights, musicians, and actors since 1778.

Exhibition Review: Galleria Franco Toselli, Milano

Exhibition Poster

Bonomo Faita*, Mercurio e Venere (Mercury and Venus), 2008-2010

Bonomo Faita*,  Fuga per un Picnic, 2008-2010

Bonomo Faita*,  Self P, 2008-2010

With the thesis finished I have realized how much free time I have after work. After months of feeling guilty for watching that extra episode on iTunes or spending a few more minutes perusing Facebook and Google Reader (usually simultaneaoulsy), I now have no reason to worry about this 'lounging'. Alas, I still do.


That's why I was particularly grateful when the opportunity to attend a gallery opening in Milan passed my way. I knew it would be a rather long drive, but no one misses the movement of a big city as much as I do. And, surprisingly, since moving to this part of Northern Italy, the closest I have gotten to the fashion capitol is it's depressingly dismal Malpensa airport.


So, after work I ventured to put on my most trendy gallerista outfit (slim-pickings with most of my luggage ready for my Texas return), and set off for the big city.


Galleria Franco Toselli is located in la zona Sempione in Milan, Italy. Owned and run by artist Franco Toselli, the gallery is an intimate space.  The exhibition was Fuga per un Picnic, and showcased a collection of the works of 36 artists. The main room, which is more of a wide corridor, is a comfortable setting where the audience and several of the exhibiting artists were able to interact, converse, and share amusing anticdotes. Such was one experience with performance and visual artist Charlemagne Palestine, who was one of the first people I meant when I entered the gallery. With a witty remark and a boisterous laugh, both of which paired perfectly with his playful stuffed creatures, I was quickly put at ease.


I walked through the gallery feeling very light and child-like. Perhaps this is related to the rest of the images in the exhibition, none of which are somber, chaotic, or grotesque. With irony present in each of the works, it was the viewers job to interpret the many pieces that are associated with cultural statements and popular idioms, such as Bonoma Faita's images featured below. All in all I was impressed by the understated simplicity of the message transmitted. Even in the images I could not immediately understand, due mostly to a lack of cultural or historical basis, the compositions were intriguing nonetheless.


After the opening we all walked to a nearby restaurant for an Italian feast. It was interesting to sit at a table and talk to the gallery owner and several artists. The conversations and wine flowed throughout the next few hours, ranging from subject and vintage. What was perhaps most captivating was that no one was discussing the work. This was the art world I loved. Unassuming and fun.

* Unfortunately I did not have my camera for the exhibition opening, so these images were taken from a book published by Franco Toselli:

Bonomo Faita and Franco Toselli, Fuga Per un Picnic (Milan: Galleria Toselli Milano, 2010): 20-21; 26-27; 62-63.