There are aspects of me that I struggle to accept. Fragments of the identities of my past persistently reappear in my present, cluttering it.
I thought I had to forget them in order to be free to become the person I want.
I was wrong.
Past versions of me are what make my existence in the here and now possible.
There is no need to conceal their presence. There is no urgency to get rid of it.
Instead, the idea of embracing them is becoming more and more existent. To touch them and feel them again.
Re-embrace my past. Make up for it.
Understanding the past, to understand the present.
The work presented here is the battlefield - and the physical proof of - where this self-knowledgment process took place.
The creation of the work began with the choice of medium: my old clothes.
I have selected from my wardrobe all the items of clothing that I never, or almost never wear.
Each garment was picked up, touched, and ‘listened to’. It was a very intimate and sometimes painful dialogue with myself.
Objects speak a lot about (and to) the person who owns them.
They are not just mere articles; everything we decide to introduce into our existence talks about us, influences our psyche, and creates an atmosphere that defines our identity.
It is much more radical than what we tend to think.
Unfortunately, consumerism has made it too easy to gain an object or clothing, leaving no space for conscious possession.
Superficiality is in stark contrast with my values and attention to environmental preservation.
Decluttering is not just a matter of emptying the closet - but a matter of redefining yourself.
What to do with what no longer belongs to us? Throw it away? Or use it as a means to witness your our own evolution?
I chose the latter.
It was not just a physical decluttering, it was a decluttering of the soul. An ‘inventory’ of my interior.
I took the unwrapped clothes, cut them into fragments, and applied a plaster primer.
By painting on them, they have come back to life, in the form of support for the art of the present ‘me’.
The superfluous that I eliminate becomes a testimony of what I was and lays the foundation for the metamorphosis that I undertake.
Fragments of my old identities are recycled and reassembled into a new configuration.
Fragmentation is a possibility of accessing new meanings, both artistic and existential.
From this new composition comes the figure of a human body - a body stretched in a dynamic and emotionally charged pose.
I installed these scraps of fabric by hanging them in the air because I want them to appear even more dynamic and changeable.
Each piece of fabric is hung on the wall with wire, fixed on wooden strips, and glued to the walls. The thread forms additional lines of tension.
The iron wire is in turn tied to a fishing hook, which penetrates the fragment of fabric.
I deliberately chose to use the fish hook to hang the fragments.
The sharp point of the hook pierces the "flesh" of the fabric, rather than that of the animal.
The vision of the fish hook piercing the fragments of this body has a compelling power for the sake of witnessing a vulnerable existence, exposed in the air, in constriction, under the eyes of all, recorded in its evolution.
