April 2002, Baptist Psychiatric (Silent Companion with Egg Babies) Installation

The figure is what I love: a customized skin tone on indulgent fields of colors is how I present it. Within the surface, all the tools at my disposal play in a concerto of tones, sometimes harmoniously, occasionally incongruently. I fight to give tridimensionality a twist. A figure, or a face, is placed on flat globs of colors to create tension and discomfort. I attack the surface, and then I let it breathe for a while. This is a slow process, in which I rearrange, erase, recreate, glaze and scratch, until satisfaction is achieved. As a figure painter, I want to retain the purity of line and anatomical correctness. Once that is attained, I go back to the figure distorting fingers, limbs, faces, exaggerating one feature more than another; I then mold the expression into the perfect emotion. Some of these paintings are thin in nature, just glazes and wet paint. Others are composed with an impasto of colors, incised with knives, violated by the back of the brush. Live models, photographs, and memory are all indiscriminately used in trying to capture the essential expression of the beloved form. My work relates deeply to historical figures, mythology, and literary events. In these narratives, I often find ideas for my larger compositions, in which theatricality plays an important role. Mysticism and atmosphere interact to recreate a timeless environment where my figures live; through chiaroscuro and artificiality, in a curious balance of harmony and oddity. My figures have a direct connection with the viewer as if the painting itself is gazing back at the observer. Not a sexualized, minimizing stare, but a powerful, intimidating one, full of psychological significance. It is a powerful connection that I want the art lover to have with my paintings: a deep, personal observation, which allows for speculation. My Italian heritage does not allow me to forget the depth and timelessness of art history. From it, I steal and borrow, copy and observe, remember and react. Poetry and psychology are constant stimulants, drugs I cannot give up, and that allow me to create an effect, a glimpse of timelessness, a window into the unknown, and the emotional.