Nicole Colombo Selected Works - Artoday
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Nicole Colombo Selected Works
SAM BITCORP for ART presents Nicole Colombo’s (Monza 1991) first solo exhibition. Its title, SAM, introduces a fictional character – not well identified – created by the artist. Their body, void of gender traits and without a position in time and space, is deconstructed throughout the different areas of the exhibition, both through drawings and sculptural forms. The artworks on display have an in-your-face approach, that, at times, can even become aggressive and repulsive. It represents the initial relationship that the artist wants to create between the work and the viewer, underlined by a subtle violence, which reflects and refers to the omnipresent violence in our society. The drawings opening the show are the actual emotional introduction to a state of alertness. Those are parts, elements or fluids of SAM depicted by the artist. Some are veiled by an opaque surface, suggesting that the character is losing clarity of the character – as if SAM’s sight was slowly abandoning them. Some of the sculptures in the exhibition, like the cigarettes and the ashtray, are instead the manifestation of the rhythm and rituality that characterized SAM before their collapse, and are also guiding us to the main works: Agitating chunks of matter in uncertain space and A friend of mine once told me something about a phantom limb. Nicole Colombo’s approach to sculpture becomes evident in this two works; it begins by questioning volume, structure, and the beauty of functional details, focusing clearly on the sensual handling of materials. The concept of avatar, and the use and creation of fictional artwork- characters inside Nicole Colombo’s art-practice turns into a noble tool for the imagination. The body becomes a narrative surface, manipulated and brought to its extremes. The artist asks viewers to interact with the story she begun, giving room to personal memories and their interaction with the artworks’ identities, creating a continuous juxtaposition where details, experiences, feelings and gestures are the common platform onto which this story is written. text by Greta Scarpa
Cigarette terracotta, paint 12x1 cm (variable dimension) 2020 SAM, is a fictional character – not well identified. Its body, void of gender traits and without a position in time and space, is deconstruct ed throughout the different areas of the space. The body becomes a narrative surface, manipulated and brought to its extremes. Cigarette are variable dimension clay sculptures which are scattered all over the space and is the demonstration of the rhythm and rituality which characterized SAM before their collapse.
Agitating chunks of matter in uncertain space (sx) iron, powder coating, resin 205x60x17,5 cm 2020 SAM, is a fictional character – not well identified. Its body, void of gender traits and without a position in time and space, is deconstruct ed throughout the different areas of the space. The body becomes a narrative surface, manipulated and brought to its extremes. Agitating chunks of matter in uncertain space is a double modular sculpture made of 3 mm thick iron plates, shaped, folded and painted. They represent arms that move in space while remaining in a sort of limbo between bi and three-dimensionality. They are modular as they are made up of several parts bolted together, thus allowing them to change according to the space to be occupied. The surface, first hand-worked and then powder-coated, is sprinkled with drops of transparent resin which mimic sweating.
Obsession (mouth) ink on paper, hand-frosted glass, terracotta 56x76 cm 2020 The drawing series Obsession, composed by Obsession (Mouth), Obsession (Hair), Obsession (Eye) are the representation of some repetitive and obsessive gestures which often originate from psychologically stressful situations. Making the anxieties of contemporaneity visible and alive, the drawings suggest ritual and nervous gestures, which often become part of our thoughtless acts. The compulsive actions of biting, rubbing, twisting and scratching are suggested by the artist through the use of a meticulous and fluid technique. Using of the black ink and a clearly defined sign, I wanto to represent these moods with an absolute precision for the detail to allow the viewer to understand their intensity and rhythm.
Obsession (eye) ink on paper, glass, terracotta 56x76 cm 2020
Obsession (hair) ink on paper, glass, terracotta 56x76 cm 2020
He loves me, he doesn’t love me...She loves me, she doesn’t love me....it loves me, it doesn’t love me... terracotta, iron rod 2020 SAM, is a fictional character – not well identified. Its body, void of gender traits and without a position in time and space, is deconstructed throughout the different areas of the space. The body becomes a narrative surface, manipulated and brought to its extremes. He loves me, he doesn’t love me...She loves me, she doesn’t love me.... it loves me, it doesn’t love me... is a clay sculture which represents an ashtray on top of which mouths are engraved in the act of nervously eating nails. It is supported by a pedestal made by iron rods which gets inside dull clay cigarettes. The title refers to the game with daisies characterized by a repetitive and ritualistic gesture.
A friend of mine once told me something about phantom limb terracotta, powder coating iron, threaded rod, vinyl glue, acrylic, varnish 80x29x20 cm 75x29x13,5 cm 2020 SAM, is a fictional character – not well identified. Its body, void of gender traits and without a position in time and space, is deconstructed throughout the different areas of the space. The body becomes a narrative surface, manipulated and brought to its extremes. A friend of mine once told me something about a phantom limb represents, in this case, SAM’s nervous and disjointed feet and legs. The twisted fingers move on a metal plate, base of the pedestal, and broken and brown nails reveal the material of which the sculpture is made of: clay. The legs, resembling two vertebral columns, are composed by clay disks resting on iron ones, fixed to two threaded bars.
Untitled (Rose) plexiglass, nail polish 19x95x0,3 cm 2018 Untitled is part of a larger series of works whose protagonists are hands with distorted shapes. Each pair of hands has their own name. Together they run along the walls, sometimes coming down from the ceiling, others emerging from some corner of the house. They are screwed directly on the wall, each of their installation/appearances goes hand in hand with the creation, on the other side of the wall, of a parallel world that generated them. She is Rose.
installation view at Like a Little Disaster, Polignano a Mare
Untitled (Violet) plexiglass, nail polish 19x95x0,3 cm 2018 She is Violet. installation view at Like a Little Disaster, Polignano a Mare
Untitled (Bianca) plexiglass, nail polish 9x95x0,3 cm 2018 She is Bianca.
Untitled plexiglass variable dimension 2017
Nemesi (equilibrate myself) resin 35x7x5 cm 2017 installation view at OJ Art Space, Istanbul
Seera on Mars digital image, iPad variable dimension 2017 We are all together, like one big head. Floating over the land like a balloon. Each line-in to the central heart. It’s located in the nose. The thing that was figured out on Earth was how to use the internet to connect everyone to everything. The data would be useful. A big head on Mars. Is full of many different people, in individual unity. Andy Heckboyd from the cs about Paradise On Mars, a group show at OJ Art Space, Istanbul
installation view at OJ Art Space, Istanbul
Consciousness wood, resin, varnish 91x81x3 cm 2017
My name is Consciousness, and this is my portrayal.
I belong to a kind of mythological pantheon, secret and sacred dimension.
I simply exist, wich is my role within the little part of society?
Do repeat your mantra daily and maybe you’ll find something.
What is really essential?
Throught self-examination you can find your awareness.KANE DI FU’ polystyrene, resin, varnish, printing on fabric, pillow variable dimension 2015 in collaboration with Luca Loreti
texts
The Oranges Of The Sunrise text by Alberta Romano and Nicole Colombo drawings by Nicole Colombo MARS is an editorial project by Media Naranja in collaboration with the artist Jean-Marie Le Basq. The project starts from “Mars” the 25th number of a collection called “Petite Planète” by Chris Marker. This book, which has never been published, only appeared in Alain Resnais’ 1956 documentary called: “Toute la mémoire du monde” (“The whole world’s memory”). Media Naranja and Jean-Marie Le Basq invited me and Alberta as a contributors in order to conceive an imaginary chapter of this unpublished book. Our text “The oranges of the Sunrise” is an imaginary old myth from Mars starring Seera, Camilla and Octavio, as its main characters. This short story is a part of an ongoing project in which I developed Seera, a fictional and undefined charachter, that each time becomes an opportunity to investigate the potentiality of narration.
slip on me. This tree has been my home for many centuries, have you seen these beautiful oranges?
The Oranges of the sunrise
T h e O r a n g e s o f T h e S u n r i s e
One of the most popular myths from Mars is the one about the oranges of the sunrise.
Camilla was astonished. Again.
Seera: You know Camilla, dreams are images wrapped in the wind, they disappear quickly, but they
leave behind a powerful trail, an imprint, a furrow within our memory.
I was a confidant, a lover, a friend, a sister, sometimes a sorceress for many of your forefathers, listen
carefully and you will realize that millions of different spirits live around you; they live the universe,
they can perceive the complete drawing.
Earth is only a border, I am your bridge. I have long hair that can accompany you gently in every place
Once upon a time, when Mars and Earth were still peacefully in contact, there was a girl named Camilla. She and time, feel them under you, let yourself be carried away.
was the daughter of one of the most influential emissaries between Earth and Mars. Her mother, Olimpia
Sol, was indeed the first human democratically elected by Martians to be their legal representative with A strong gust of wind blew away some leaves that were composing Seera’s hair. Camilla followed their
Earth. When her mother won the election, Camilla was studying at the University in Italy and there was no whirling dance with her eyes and when she turned around to listen to the spirit’s voice, there were just
way of getting her to move to Mars with her family. leaves and branches, nothing more. Camilla let out a nervous laugh. She had never experienced anything
like that in her life.
It was around 2220, Earth’s time, and Camilla was studying Engineering in Rome.
She was a thoughtful person, even too much for her age, she deeply enjoyed being with her friends but
Octavio
at the same time she was a loner at heart.
When her parents left Camilla had to quickly learn how to live alone: the exact alignment of the two
Camilla: “We should talk, immediately!”
planets, which was necessary to activate the communications between Camilla and her parents, only
occurred once every 2 months, precisely on the second day of the month, between 4 am and 6 am (Earth’s
Camilla whispered to Octavio as she grabbed his arm in the courtyard of the school.
time). For Camilla waiting for that moment became a sort of ritual.
Octavio was her best friend since forever, he was her confidant, her brother, he became everything to her
She wasn’t an early bird, but getting ready for that special meeting made her feel deeply excited and
after her parents moved to Mars.
happy as a child. She woke up 30 minutes before each meeting to prepare a nice framing for her parents,
trying to place every device in a pleasant way around her.
Octavio: So you are telling me that you saw a talking tree?
She liked to include in the frame the orange tree that had been peeping out from her window since she
Camilla: I swear she, he...was talking to me. She, oh fuck, I don’t know if it’s a she or a he… no, wait,
was a child. That tree was a gift from some great-grandfather she never met and it still had luxurious
actually I heard a name, it was Seera… it sounds feminine, doesn’t it?
branches and juicy oranges. It had always made her feel satisfied, without needing permission from
So SHE told me something about my forefathers...it was like she knew me, my family… everybody!
anyone. It was a fleeting sensation that could hardly be remembered except when she was near that tree.
Look, she was there - Camilla pointed at the tree - and she was made of leaves and branches, she was
floating there, I swear!
The First Meeting
Camilla and Octavio spent all the afternoon talking about Seera and trying to call her back.
The myth said that during one of those early morning chats Camilla heard a feeble voice coming from the To make sure she would not forget her, Camilla represented Seera’s face on a screen. That was the only
tree. While she was talking with Olimpia Sol and Berto (that was her father’s name) she pretended not to evidence left of her. Days passed, between doubts and research at the Tiberino Archive but no clue,
hear it, but when she closed her hands to end the communication with them, she suspiciously started to nothing.
look at the tree. The voice was extremely weak and simultaneously very reliable. Camilla stuck her head Camilla started to change her habits, she preferred to study at home in order to never lose sight of her
out of the window to better understand where this voice was coming from. Her head was surrounded by tree. Everyday Octavio was with her.
leaves and oranges when suddenly she saw something.
The Second Meeting
Seera: Hi Camilla, my name is Seera. You can finally hear me ... My voice has been whispering in your
ears since you were born. Don’t you think you know me?
June came and it was already the moment to speak with her parents.
She woke up just a few minutes before their appointment, she calibrated the intensity and the opacity of
Camilla was petrified. The thing, or better the presence that was talking to her was floating through
her room and started the call.
the leaves. She could easily recognize a face made of branches, leaves and oranges. It was changing
constantly, following the wind, sometimes using oranges as they were eyes, sometimes giving the
Camilla: Hi Mummy, hi daddy!!!
branches the shape of thick hair. The leaves were also changing according to the modulation of that
Olimpia Sol: Honey, how are you? You look beautiful, look at that hair, it’s so long!
voice, arching their midribs depending on the intensity of the words.
Berto : Hello Pizzi!
Camilla had never seen anything so strange and so fascinating at the same time.
She could barely breathe in front of that enchantment, but without even realizing it she mumbled
something:
Camilla: Who… who are you?
Seera: I am everything and nothing, incomprehensible to most but reassuring and kind. I feel the storyCamilla: Hello daddy, yes it’s growing fast, and you look so elegant, where are you coming from? Seera moved elegantly like a dancer, touched by the small drops on the leaves.
Olimpia Sol: We went to a dinner for the opening of an archeological site...they are investing a lot on The atmosphere was surreal but calm and sweet at the same time.
it and making many discoveries there, you would like it, honey! Camilla wished that this feeling would never end but she also felt that time was running out.
Seera: Hi Camilla, I am Seera.
Camilla: WHAAAT? Camilla: “I’m ready.”
Olimpia Sol: Hey honey, what is going on? Seera: “We have so little time, you will have to do your best.”
Camilla: O my goodness! No, nothing mum… Sorry, I’m really, really sorry but I forgot that I have an
exam today and… I had completely forgotten about it… sorry, but I have to close the communication, Camilla ran back into the garden and retrieved the largest cloth bag she had available, and started picking
have a Good night! oranges till she felt her arms weary. The sun was about to reach its peak and Seera appeared again…
Olimpia Sol: Are you kidding me Camilla? CAMILLA???
Seera: “Are you ready Camilla? Do you trust me?”
Camilla closed the communication with her hand and she whirled around immediately to look out to the Camilla: “Wait a second, what about my friends here? My school? Octavio?
window. Seera was there. Will I be able to come back if I come with you now?”
Seera: “I’ll be your bridge Camilla and, remember, a bridge made of trust never falls.”
Seera: “Hey Camilla, how are you?” Camilla: “Ok, I am ready.”
Camilla gave the hint of a frightened smile. She went close to the tree and one of the flowing branches wrapped itself around her body.
Camilla vanished into a single, dry stroke of golden light. The sun was finally rising above Earth.
Seera: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can talk to you exactly on the same days your parents can;
I would never steal time from you but it is the only moment of astral contingency in which I can slip On Mars
between planets. But I swear you will soon have the time to speak with them.”
Camilla: “Don’t worry, Seera. I was looking forward to your return.” Without even realizing it Camilla was on Mars.
Seera: “Great! I am going to tell you a story about an ancient Martian ritual and then I will ask for your She arrived directly in front of a huge carved marble wall. It looked like the interior part of a temple,
help. Are you ready for this, Camilla?” white, bright and smooth. She had the impression that each word she could have said would gently glide
Camilla: “mm…yes, I think so…” over the curves of this wall. Only after a while did she realize that she was still clinging to the bags full
Seera: “Once upon a time, on this exact moment of the day a very important ritual used to happen on of oranges.
Mars. This orange tree, that at the time was surrounded by hot thermal water, lit up with the color of With a timid voice she called Seera. She was already behind her, taking the shape of a huge and
dawn. Golden oranges used to grow on it and their juice guaranteed complete recovery from all evil. illuminated hieroglyphic.
The ancients used to mix the juice with thermal water and the whole country was invited to dive in it.”
Camilla: “Are you talking about the same tree that is growing in my garden?” Seera: “Welcome to our temple Camilla, welcome to Mars.
Seera: “Yes, Camilla, exactly! Among my infinite aspects there is also one in which I represent an There is only one thing to do now. Just open your arms, let the oranges fluctuate and enjoy their
ancient spirit, the spirit of the orange tree. This tree has been moved to Earth to keep it safe during the dance. The Ancient fountain will start to flow again and all the inhabitants will come attracted by this
first Martian war but now we need to bring his juice back to Mars and only you can help us to do it. sound of plenitude. Have you ever heard it Camilla?
The juice is necessary to obtain a serum that could save billions of souls. It sounds like the echo of your best childhood memories, it sounds like joy and familiarity together.
It is about restoring a higher level of psychological, emotional, spiritual and physical well-being, as This sound is different for each one who hears it, you’ll recognize it, for sure.
it was many years ago. Martians are slowly losing their way, forgetting the importance of apparently Then, when the inhabitants will drink the juice, they will rediscover the value of the time spent
unproductive feelings, emotions, and moods that are essential to live in harmony. without thinking in order to think better. Believe me, the quietness flowing in their daily life will
And you are the one who can repair this loss. increase the quality of what they make and think, giving them all the opportunity to redefine their
What you need to do is pretty simple. You just need to take with you as many oranges as you can and responsibility towards themselves. They will sleep, work, create and talk following their personal
bring them to Mars before the sun reaches its peak.” needs and times and not the ones imposed by the society they live in.
Camilla: “Wait, wait… how can I reach Mars with all these oranges? And by the way how can I reach It may sound complicated, but the meaning of satisfaction will change with time and being satisfied
Mars at all? I’m sorry, Seera, but I’m not sure I understood exactly what we’re talking about... “ will slowly become synonym of being alive.
Seera: “Dear Camilla, take a deep breath. I understand your confusion.
As I told you the first time we met, I am your bridge, so you won’t need spaceships or astral passages According to the legend, the famous Martian quietness was originated from the rediscovery of this
to reach Mars. I will be your transport, I will be your guide. ritual, which allowed Mars to be the most peaceful place in the whole universe and his inhabitants the
Listen to me, inside the Central Martian Baths there are some hieroglyphics carved on the walls. most confident life forms that ever existed.
Nowadays not even a single inhabitant of Mars can remember their meaning but what they represent
is the instruction of the Orange of the Sunrise’s Ceremony.
Today there is an extreme need to rediscover the values of this ceremony. From this orange juice we
can obtain several other drinks aimed at the physical and mental well-being of every inhabitant.
I’ve been hiding the existence of this ritual for years, finally the time has come and you are the one
who will have to handle it. Are you ready for it Camilla?”
The sun was about to rise completely and the morning frost shone under the soft golden rays.The EPC* is a text contribution by Alberta Romano for Sink, an online residency platform, with a montly residency programme, commisioned essay and artist interviews run by Alice Ongaro and Mati Jhurry. For this occasion I realized four drawings that illustrate the story. This project has been made possible thanks to the support from Fondazione Pini and Arts Council England. Here the link to the entire text: http://sink.sexy/texts/alberta-romano
Imagine Celine Imagine Celine is an editorial contribution for Takecare #2 with Marija Bozinovska Jones, Christina Gigliotti and Jacopo Miliani curated by Roberta Mansueto.
Nicole Colombo, Nemesi(equilibrate myself, again), resin_2017
Cammino pericolosamente vicina al bordo in pietra della piscina, la
Nicole Colombo, Imagine Celine_2017
superficie porosa ha un non so ché di caldo e familiare. Non ho paura,
sono nel mio elemento, nella mia situazione, nella mia pausa dal
mondo.
L’acqua sembra essere coperta da una lamina d’oro.
Le gocce d’acqua sul mio corpo creano come una seconda pelle forma-
ta unicamente da piccoli punti di luce, così brillanti…il mio sguardo si
perde istintivamente in un correre e rincorrersi di riflessi.
Sono alla disperata ricerca di quella scarica elettrica leggera, che
parte dalle sinapsi fino ad arrivare alla punta degli alluci. Invaden-
te, sfacciatamente irriverente, l’idealizzazione di uno stato di quiete
momentaneo e fugace e per questo così attraente.
Sta diventando tardi, è sempre tardi, merda. Questa potrei tranquil-
lamente definirla la costante della mia vita. Me ne fotto. Oggi voglio
prendermi cura di me.
Immaginari sintetici, forse frutto solo della mia immaginazione o pro-
babilmente nemmeno della mia, forse non è di questo che ho bisogno,
forse sto usufruendo di un pacchetto relax in una Spa per una sola
persona regalatomi da una lontana zia che non ha avuto la forza di
godersi un momento solo per lei. E se invece avessi bisogno di altro?
Immagino Celine che danza sugli umori di tutti gli uomini e le donne
della città, la immagino così sicura del suo sincero benessere che a
confronto qualsiasi luce diventa fioca, scarica. Immagino i volti atto-
niti di chi riesce fugacemente a percepirla e i volti severi di chi, invece,
non stacca mai un piede da terra.
E di nuovo l’acqua dorata.
Liquido amniotico, una membrana sottile ma resistente, viscida e
sensuale.
Un profumo di frutta fresca e paraffina si diffonde nell’aria come
ricordo di una terra lontana; un fumo denso, dolce, invadente.
Acqua calda, e di nuovo quella sensazione così estremamente rassicu-
rante.
Un calice antico, raffinatamente decorato, colmo di ambrosia.I am walking on the edge of the swimming pool. Dangerously close
Nicole Colombo, Sciaman to Sciaman_2017
Nicole Colombo, Imagine Celine_2017
to the edge. The porous surface has something warm and familiar... I
don’t really know.
I am not scared: it’s my element, my situation, my pause from the
outside world.
The water looks like it’s covered in golden foil.
The water drops on my body are a second skin made of tiny, shiny
light spots... my eye gets lost instinctively in a game of glares running
back and forth.
I am desperately looking for that light electric shock that runs from
the synapsis to the tip of the toes. Invasive and insolent: it’s the ideali-
zation of a calm moment - as quick as attractive.
It’s getting late, shit it’s always late. I could definitely point this as my
life’s thing.
I don’t give a fuck. Today I want to take care of myself.
Synthetic scenarios - maybe it’s all just in my mind. Maybe it’s not
even my mind. Maybe it’s not even what I need. Maybe I am just be-
nefitting from a one-person relaxing vacay in a Spa, something gifted
by a distant aunt who never had the strength for enjoying a good
moment for herself.
What if I needed something else?
I imagine Celine dancing onto the moods of all the men and women in
the city. I figure she’s so sure of her own honest well-being that all of
the lights become fleeble if compared to her.
I see the astonished faces of those who are able to quickly see her and
the severe ones of those whose feet never leave the ground.
Again: golden water.
Amniotic fluid. A thin but strong layer, slippery and sexy.
The smell of fresh fruit and paraffin wax fills the air as the thought of a
far away land; the smoke is dense, sweet, invasive.
Warm water, and again that extremely reassuring feeling.
An ancient finely crafted cup, full of ambrosia.Nicole Colombo, Seera to Seera_2017
Seera is a text contribution for The Boys and Kifer’s first album named Where is The Boys and Kifer, a sound based project founded by Roberto Casti. https://theboysandkifer.bandcamp.com/album/where-is-the-boys-and- kifer
Seera
C’era una volta una storia, e poi c’erano una volta gli uomini. La storia è non cambiano, solo quelli rimangono del colore del ghiaccio: vivi, arroganti,
sempre una e un miliardo, tutto oscilla tra una sfumatura e l’altra. Alla base sensuali. “Mi querida!” esclama felice ed io riesco solo a dire “No, non
di ogni animo umano esiste sempre qualcosa di chiamarmi tesoro.”
primitivo, primordiale, qualcosa che volente o nolente ci accomuna tutti, una
pulsazione presente. Seera. Entro in casa, tutto è esattamente dove mi ricordavo. Prendo possesso della
mia poltrona preferita, quella con i braccioli larghi, così posso
Sembrava una città come le altre da lontano, una periferia con appoggiarci comodamente il posacenere. Seera senza nemmeno chiedere
abitazioni più basse e giardini più grandi e un centro con palazzi più alti e mi lascia sola qualche minuto per poi tornare con quella che per me ha la
strade affollate. valenza dell’ambrosia. Tutto ha le sembianze di un rito: prima la cocchina in
Era stato facile arrivare fin qui, quasi troppo, ma non avevo nessuna argilla, finemente decorata ma primitiva; poi il filtro in ceramica
intenzione di cominciare a riempirmi la testa di paranoie che sapevo non (ognuno per ogni tipologia) che racchiude in se i ricordi di mille viaggi prima
sarei stata in grado di tenere a bada. Avevo bisogno di vederla, Seera, di questo; la cartina in canapa che mostra ancora tutte le venature della
doveva aiutarmi. foglia. Ogni oggetto diventa protagonista unicamente durante il suo
Sapevo dove trovarla, lei è sempre dove tu ti aspetti che sia; esiste solo turno, come un orchestra che ha bisogno di singolarità per poter comporre
all’intero di una rete di simbologie, credenze e luoghi comuni in cui il suo un canzone corale, tutte le componenti danzano all’unisono per regalarmi
simbolo costituisce un dato di fatto reale, un piede ancorato nel mondo dei una boccata di irrealtà.
vivi. Seera è stata definita in molti modi, sacerdotessa, strega, veggente,
Seera si accomoda accanto a me. “Come posso aiutarti?” mi chiede.
medium; e nonostante tutti questi nomi indichino doti e personalità
differenti, lei riesce ad essere un po’ di tutto quanto. Ha passato le ere e ha Io rimango in silenzio per un po’, nella mia testa una serie di risposte
sentito la storia scivolare su di sé, ha la capacità di vedere “il disegno possibili iniziano a prendere forma ma nessuna sembra essere quella giusta.
completo” e cerca di sopperire al dolore dell’uomo in un modo o nell’altro. La Prendo un’altra boccata di irrealtà, chiudo gli occhi e le dico “Seera credo
forza di cui si nutre è senza tempo, ha mutato forma svariate volte nel corso di non avere bisogno di aiuto, forse volevo solo vederti, sapere che esistevi,
della storia per potersi adattare ad esigenze differenti. Lei è qualcosa di sapere che potevo guardare dentro di te e ritrovare me”. Chiudo gli occhi di
incomprensibile ed inaccessibile ma allo stesso tempo rassicurante e gentile. nuovo.
Seera, chiunque tu voglia che sia, ogni volta un modello perfettamente
strutturato su misura per te. Per me è sempre stata l’amica su cui puoi Mi faccio inebriare da quella calda sensazione, parte da un respiro e arriva
contare, un personaggio difficile da strutturare ma Seera ci è riuscita. Lei fino alle estremità del corpo, lentamente, al passo con la mente e i pensieri.
vive nel nostro continuo tentativo di condivisione, nel nostro “metterci nei Mi lascio andare perché ormai sono sicura che lei c’è e ci sarà, sempre.
panni dell’altro”, nel nostro cercare noi stessi nell’abisso di chi abbiamo di Quando li riapro lei non c’è più e io mi ritrovo nuovamente in cima a quella
fronte. collina, dove da lontano la città sembra normale, una come tante.
Ho bisogno di concentrarmi, devo sedermi un attimo o non riuscirò a
sentirla. Tento di ampliare i sensi e di diventare ricettiva, ogni sensazione
forte o debole non deve sfuggirmi o lei svanirà tra i pensieri di qualcun altro.
Chiudo gli occhi, ruoto leggermente la testa …. la vedo. Bella ed elegante
come sempre, scende rapidamente i gradini. Circondata da questi veli ◊
danzanti che la coprono solo parzialmente, man mano che si avvicina a me
muta forma e dimensione, stato d’animo e colore della pelle; solo gli occhiTwo sticker made for The Boys and Kifer’s first album
What I think of Miranda print on transparent matte-paper, cheap frame 23x33 cm 2017 It’s a dedicated gift for “Miranda”, an exhibition by Monia Ben Hamouda curated by Pane Project. I wrote and imagined a story about the sensations and emotions that the exhibition, told me while it was still in embryonic form from Monia, aroused me. The end results is a possible and parallel narrative and point of view on the exhibition. http://www.paneproject.com/archive/monia-ben-hamouda
BIO
My work is focus on the public interaction with their imagination and feelings.
I use tools as the creation of avatar, fictional character, objects that inhabit the space, in order to fascinate and tickle the viewer. In my works public’s
personal memories come into action in order to create different possible stories.
In my drawings, sculptural installations and objects, I combine aggressive and repulsive elements and, through them, I invite the viewers to deepen
their feelings, facing different emotions such as anxiety, stress and uncertainty, marking the rhythm of time’s passage.
I often dissects objects, removing them from their contexts, to carefully arrange them in sensual and poetic compositions in the space. The realms
are imbued with a slight sense of violence, a feeling that characterizes the nowadays society: experiencing her work, the viewer is therefore
encouraged to think about the contemporary condition.
Using natural materials like wood and iron, but also synthetic ones like resin and plexiglass, I wanto to create erotic and unique works in which the
industrial shininess underlines their crafty quality.
Born in Monza, 1991. Lives and work in Milano.
Co-founder at /77 artist-run-project.
Exhibition and Stuff:
2020 Sam, BitCorp for Art, solo show curated by Greta Scarpa, Milano
2019 The Oranges of the Sunrise, editorial contribution made with Alberta Romano, Media Naranja, Marseille
Pendaison de Crémaillère, CampoBase, Torino
222 Artisti emergenti su cui investire 2019, pubblication, Exibart
2018 The EPC* , a text by Alberta Romano, drawing contribution for Sink
SUV, BSMNT, curated by PANE project, Leipzig
First I Have To Put My Face On, Like a Little Disaster, curated by Christina Gigliotti, Polignano a Mare2017 Jollies, Officina 500, curated by Gelateria Sogni di Ghiaccio, Torino
Takecare #2, editorial contributions, curated by Roberta Mansueto
Paradise on Mars, OJ Art Space, curated by Erdem Çetrez, Istanbul
Kodomo No Hi, Sonnenstube, Lugano
2016 Bubble Tea, Boba Bubble Tea Bar, curated by PANE project, Milano
Academy Awards 2015, Viafarini, Milano
Reading group Animale in collaboration with Giada Carnevale, with the partecipation of Leonardo Caffo, Viafarini, Milano
2015 Treasure Town, personal exhibition, Iridescent in Void project, Milano
Salon, Università Bicocca, Milano
2008daughter’s workshop at Tileprojectspace for POLE POLE, a project by Derek di Fabio, Milano
Professional Experience:
2018 Art handler for Attitudine e Forma (ongoing)
2016 Co-founder at /77 artist-run-project
2015 Assistance curator for Philippe Parreno’s workshop Conversazioni fra presente, passato, futuro made for the exhibition Hypothesis at Pirelli
HangarBicocca, curated by Cloe Piccoli and Maurizio Arcangeli; Milano
2014 Co-founder at Iridescent in Void project, Milanonicole.colombo3@gmail.com
+39 3458032843
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