these works I wanted to remember the symphonies of Mahler. Cryptic and
expressive, vigorous and modulated, querulous without sorrow, suffering
without distress, rebels without a revolt, always whit a held cry about
to jump from the lips’ rail.
imagine these works in a large square; because squares, unlike roads,
invite to party. I wanted to oppose the linear vision of roads to the
concept of circular spaces where one can dance or cry, where the
convicts are executed and people sunbathe.
What do the squares have that the roads don’t, that invite to the party?
In the middle of the square I set a trap
for the wind,
and, while weaving the tangle of ropes,
I've trapped myself.
Is not the sun of party a trap too?
Or the charming look that does not stop
to captivate me
without network deception?
If I shy away from its look, the wind surrounds me.
If I pursue the wind, I go into raptures over
the sounds of celebration and I get entangled
into my trap.
And so I find myself, slave and free at the same time,
in this huge square
that makes me feel as familiar