The Nature of Nature could be Romberg's ideal title in recent years. The gallery's long journey with artists who tackle the themes of the resistant landscape, of plant metabolisms, of the fragile but cruel beauty that envelops contemporary painting. A link in balance between the archaic ideals of the picture and an eye on the urgencies of today's landscape; a set of glances to reflect on the transformations of places, on the universal values of humanity, on a return to our origins that seem like both a regenerative and necessary thrust.
Giorgio Galli starts from the nodal point that links the artist's eyes to the enveloping landscape: the fateful Grand Tour of past centuries, a destination and instrument of revelation for European authors who chose a peasant, silent Italy, far away from urban life, where ancient ruins belonged to the enveloping green, where the views widened our thirst for knowledge, where Beauty was reborn between poetry and archaeology.
Galli's central reference was Corot, a well-known French author who sojourned in the Lazio woods of Genzano, up there in the old village overlooking the lake of Nemi, where the places dedicated to the Goddess Diana stood. Legends and geography were the literary myth of artists who here, in areas full of ancient memories, found the diapason of their own drawing, the key to spiritual colour and the vertigo of deep inspiration.
Galli makes a temporal leap through his paintbrush, bringing pictorial freedom into the rapid cycle of colouristic impressions, into the transparent vertigo and reverberations that stimulate the senses. He seems to listen to his works, to perceive the noise of the fire, of the velvety lapping of the water, of the hissing spiral of the wind. An iconographic system that challenges manner and brings energy back into the metaphysical value of Arcadian places, full of memories and of the future. It can be said that: where the world seems to be suspended, where nature dominates the field, here is where painting intimately finds itself, its roots inserting themselves, without getting stuck, into the ganglia of the technological present.
The works seem suspended in a limbo between memory and clairvoyance. They possess the strong odours of past centuries and yet fly beyond what is real, recreating apparitions of light, nebulous masses from the red planet, the dripping of cosmic blood and heat from primordial fire. We feel something shamanistic and inexplicable, an energetic force that Galli manages with evident empathy, almost rendering his Lazio lake an alien one, a Giverny in the deserts of Mars, a place in the mind in the vertigo of a volcanic painting.
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