Vasilij Vasil'evic Kandinskij
In the quiet instant of blue, in the calm of cerulean, in the horizontality of the leaden, in the
mobile stillness of the specter of emery, a shape is born.
It is taken, pushed by a melody, dragged upwards by an soundless diagonal and, hanging on to
color and thought, awakens the instant of motion.
The moment of departure, when strength from intuition turns into action and pours down into
the vertebrae to then surface through the eyes.
From this first image Carola Ducoli begins painting a story of surfaces and spurts: like a flame
has a frame and a heart, so do her works reveal a space and body.
Chromatic pauses in which an instant of revolutionary motion takes place.
Any shade of color is not just a carrier of physical properties, but it envelops a tense, resonant
tale composed of sensations; the passage of only three shades could describe the genesis, the
progress and the ending of the story of a man.
Color, or in other words light that reflects differently depending on the surface it meets and
which is then as a result perceived by our eyes, is capable of releasing unconscious reactions,
give birth to perceptual aberrations and mutate sensations, mixing physics and psyche.
For Kandinsky pigment is an intense sensorial tale, he in fact recognizes in color a musicality,
physicality and a direction, Carola Ducoli instead seeks its movement.
Indeed her artworks show a democratic assembly of different voices that converse poetically:
space, body and sound.
The artist immerses a body, an unstable being in a chromatic root permeating ideas and
meanings, rendering the evisceration of the movement into colors visible, constructed of lines,
curves and points.
In the soundless noise of color dancer Noemi Bresciani follows a nonexistent violin, a faraway
double-bass or a hidden percussion, allowing the photographs to create a tale of guts and
sensations.
The skin caresses the surroundings in an exact brushstroke, enveloping inner accents which
conclude the arrhythmia in one instant, and a cloud, a waterfall or rolling dust which picks up
movement and crowns it makes the moment quaver.
The figure rises and dances.
It dances the flat vastness of blue, the quick tension of green, the suspension of purple, the
deep relapses of red, and the electricity of yellow.
mobile stillness of the specter of emery, a shape is born.
It is taken, pushed by a melody, dragged upwards by an soundless diagonal and, hanging on to
color and thought, awakens the instant of motion.
The moment of departure, when strength from intuition turns into action and pours down into
the vertebrae to then surface through the eyes.
From this first image Carola Ducoli begins painting a story of surfaces and spurts: like a flame
has a frame and a heart, so do her works reveal a space and body.
Chromatic pauses in which an instant of revolutionary motion takes place.
Any shade of color is not just a carrier of physical properties, but it envelops a tense, resonant
tale composed of sensations; the passage of only three shades could describe the genesis, the
progress and the ending of the story of a man.
Color, or in other words light that reflects differently depending on the surface it meets and
which is then as a result perceived by our eyes, is capable of releasing unconscious reactions,
give birth to perceptual aberrations and mutate sensations, mixing physics and psyche.
For Kandinsky pigment is an intense sensorial tale, he in fact recognizes in color a musicality,
physicality and a direction, Carola Ducoli instead seeks its movement.
Indeed her artworks show a democratic assembly of different voices that converse poetically:
space, body and sound.
The artist immerses a body, an unstable being in a chromatic root permeating ideas and
meanings, rendering the evisceration of the movement into colors visible, constructed of lines,
curves and points.
In the soundless noise of color dancer Noemi Bresciani follows a nonexistent violin, a faraway
double-bass or a hidden percussion, allowing the photographs to create a tale of guts and
sensations.
The skin caresses the surroundings in an exact brushstroke, enveloping inner accents which
conclude the arrhythmia in one instant, and a cloud, a waterfall or rolling dust which picks up
movement and crowns it makes the moment quaver.
The figure rises and dances.
It dances the flat vastness of blue, the quick tension of green, the suspension of purple, the
deep relapses of red, and the electricity of yellow.
Comments 1
Say something