The feeling of images: Online Exhibition curated by Vincenzo Simone, artist from bologna, he believes that art and life are inextricably intertwined

So ends The Origin of Species, one of the pivotal works in the history of science, in which Darwin explains his theory of evolution. These words capture the underlying idea behind my exploration of art and, thus, this exhibition.

The oldest paintings, dating back to around 32,000 years ago, were found in the Chauvet cave in France. Among the most widely accepted hypotheses regarding the purpose of these objects is that they were propitiatory works for hunting and for activities associated with survival. Over time, this hypothesis has been disproved. Instead, by observing the hands impressed in the cave of Pech Merle in the French Pyrenees, it is possible to understand how the idea of fixing handprints was pretty much useless in daily life. Yet, that gesture impressed on the rocks hides the urgency and the will to leave a mark, a trace for others to come, a gesture that today we could define as a form of devotion.

The further back one goes in time, the more difficult it is to decipher certain gestures, certain shapes, and consequently certain thoughts.

I would like to start with the idea that in every image, there are stories that transcend time.

 

 

The chosen works speak of the shape of things, of a very precise moment of painting, which I believe is always relevant. The importance of a noble fiction, which for centuries has been telling us a truth, sometimes about the beauty of the world and sometimes about its brutality.

I would like to start with Antonio Donghi's Fruttiera su un tavolo. The painting is a homage to light, a synthesis of solid forms. The fruits, which look like coloured chalk, are fixed in a space where nothing is left to chance. I look at the painting and feel the artist's presence, especially in those two small off-record apples that have fallen from the overfilled fruit bowl. In this moment of overflowing materials, the artist decides to capture an image forever and fix it in the present for the future. 

 

Bartolomeo Chiari's artwork transports us to the peaks of Mount Parnassus. His nine muses enchant us: the visual transport of poetry is almost tangible. The stream refreshes and lightens our thoughts to the sound of music. A muse watches us closely. I find this visual detail chosen by the painter very intriguing. Just like Donghi's two little apples, in this case, the author emphasises an illusion too, as the gaze of the young muse highlights the distance between the world of painting and our very own.

 

Giorgio de Chirico's painting shows a vase of chrysanthemums whose petals look like burning flames. Despite being flowers, they convey a feeling of power that reminds me of his vigorous horses running on dreamlike shores. In this case, the material becomes the main character.
The naturalness of the chrysanthemums suggests their precariousness: instinctively, when I look at them, I feel like fixing the one on the left, which seems to be falling.

However, like the gaze of the young girl in Parnassus, the chrysanthemum perhaps shows us that in the reality of painting, the rules of physics exist to be broken: that flower will never really fall, just as the girl will never turn away, but will continue to look at us, forever.

Dosso Dossi's Il Risveglio di Venere (The Awakening of Venus) draws us into an ideal world: there is a level of calmness and awareness in that gaze that seems to be beyond us. The hand on the forehead suggests that some thoughts are coming to the surface, and a transformation is probably occurring. There’s a willingness to change some old traditions that are now struggling to be accepted.

An awakening implies a change of direction, the idea of sweeping away old memories or perhaps old ways of doing things. Venus is not looking at us; she does not need to and is not interested in our gaze. She is interested in her thoughts and her freedom to show herself in her total beauty without flaws and regrets. The sunset is far away, the dawn of a new day is coming, and everything will change forever.

Antonio Carneo's artwork tells us, with a small pretext, the comparison between a young girl and an old lady. I find this work truly exceptional. We can almost hear the old lady whispering words to the girl. Again, our presence is totally ignored, and the young woman turns her back to us. There is a strong feeling of intimacy and kindness in this painting. It is a passage of information that is fundamental in approaching life, with the recommendations of those who have lived it before.

The exhibition closes with Guercino's Lucrezia. Perhaps Lucrezia's story is not one of the most beautiful, but her gaze suggests that it is a challenge to the world, not a submission. It shows the awareness to change words and behaviour towards something new, towards dreams that may have never been expressed before. 

In this particularly fleeting historical time, these artworks are living thoughts and remind us more than ever how paintings created in such different times are still extremely contemporary. If not in their aesthetic form, then in their content.