Critics

Parallelo minerale

Sergio mi parla spesso della qualità particolare del respiro che percepisce mentre lavora, un respiro che si trasforma, e che finisce per unirsi talmente tanto a ciò che fa al punto da assorbirlo completamente. E’ il soffio dell’ispirazione che fluisce, ed è percepibile come un intenso, e piacevole, vortice. Quel respiro non è che un riflesso di qualcosa che accade, in lui, a un livello più sottile: movimenti della mente profonda, là dove sorgono idee più pure del cristallo. Le tessere del mosaico, anch’esse sono il riflesso degli atomi di forza che Sergio riesce a vedere, e che si assemblano magicamente sotto i suoi occhi. E’ un processo, questo, istantaneo, veloce, che il corpo filtra con la sua lentezza, al prezzo dell’estrema fatica della precisione che il suo lavoro comporta. Ma Sergio sembra avere tutto il tempo del mondo, anzi, il suo tempo pare proprio scaturire dalla relazione tra il galoppare veloce dell’ispirazione e la lentissima tecnica meditativa del posizionamento delle tessere. In questo tempo sospeso, Sergio non ha paura di definirsi apprendista o, quanto meno, qualcuno assorbito in un cammino di piena libertà creativa, i cui passi sono dettati unicamente da un ritmo interiore, e in cui ciò che conta è affacciarsi sulla propria coscienza.

Sergio è affascinato dalle tecniche respiratorie indiane, dagli spazi di immaginazione che queste possono aprire, nel loro accompagnare l’adepto verso un ritmo che cova dentro e oltre il ritmo respiratorio. Questo ritmo segreto è fatto di bacini di leggerezza inaudita. Saranno queste le lagune interiori in cui va a raccogliere le sue idee? Questa mattina Sergio mi ha portato un’opera, custodita dentro una cassa di legno. Dopo un cauto rituale di apertura, sono emersi due volti: uno, femminile, e l’altro, il suo parallelo minerale. Mi sono avvicinata; il mio respiro ha rallentato come se questo volto di marmo stesse soffiando dolcemente nella mia direzione. Questo secondo volto, in quest’opera di Sergio, si sovrappone al primo, ed è composto da una costellazione di pietre di grandezza diversa; le più piccole non sono più grandi di granelli di polvere.

Marmo, in greco màrmaron, da màrmairo. Questa parola significa splendere, brillare. Mi trovo di fronte a un volto fatto di immaginazione e respiro insieme, immaginazione, luce e respiro. Dunque, mi trovo davanti a una visione, che scaturisce e dialoga con l’immagine fotografica che le fa da sorgente, ovvero il puro volto di Olga. Nel pomeriggio, mi è capitato di portarmi distrattamente una mano al viso, e istantaneamente mi è tornata davanti agli occhi la sensazione viva di quel viso composto da cellule di marmo. Da qualche parte, mi sono detta, deve esserci per forza anche una me stessa minerale, del tutto simile a quella di Olga, che Sergio ha potuto portare alla luce, e il fatto che sia invisibile ha poca importanza, dal momento che l’opera ha potuto agire in modo da acutizzare in me una mancanza, che si concretizza nel desiderio di convocare la me stessa immaginaria e splendente, la cui esistenza non avevo mai considerato prima.

C’è una me perfetta da qualche parte, con un’immaginazione infinita e una mente senza limiti. Ma come raggiungerla? Dove si trova la scoperta di questo sé non condizionato da quei limiti di scarsa prospettiva che la vita fisica sembra comportare? Il fatto di averne presentito il brillio rende l’immaginazione un luogo più vicino.

Francesca Proia.

 

 

On the dynamism of fluids in time

By Daniele Torcellini

Subjective

I am standing in front of a computer where Sergio’s work, a musical composition for low frequencies, is streaming. One cannot imagine anything darker. At the centre of the screen, a monitor indicates the maximum light level: Brightness 100. Sergio explains to me that the screen has blacked out, and smiles. I find this superbly paradoxical and deeply significant, Tea is ready. A little stunned by my listening session, I take my cup and sit on the couch and we talk at length. Sergio tells me about his latest projects and reads from a few of the books he’s been reading lately: James Hillman, Carl Jung, Dante. With this reading list, I understand that he is continuing a journey that started at the moment of his decisive arrival in Italy from Buenos Aires. I inform him that I have started writing about his work and that I find the image of communicating vessels very apt in describing how different artistic experiences that we put forward are not only intimately linked but also interdependent. Like fluids intermingling in a c!ontinuous mixing process.

Objective

There is a particular way he moves. Hands that move through the air, describing precise shapes, in rhythms that repeat but with variations. As soon as one goes near Sergio Policicchio it is obvious that his life and his art are intermingling, mixing to make one whole thing. Coherent but unfinished. Coherent but not closed up. There are doorways through which one can glimpse a dimension inside that links mosaic, theatre, music, performance, literature, writing, calligraphy, drawing, body, hands, spirit, powder, grains, tesserae, stones, dreams, wire. And it is truly on a wire that Sergio Policicchio moves forward step by step in mosaic, linking his life and his art, connecting them like interior parts –decomposed in shrapnel- like marble chunks and bits- into shapes that recall primitive flints.

Born in 1985 in Buenos Aires to half0Italian parents, Sergio Policicchio emigrated to Ravenna at age 18; he controls his journey and touches many disciplines of expression: he performs with the Motus theatre company. He studies at and graduates from the Fine Arts Academy of Ravenna. He lives for a time in Bilbao where finds part of his Argentine past. He creates performances where his experiences take the form of symbolic actions. He intertwines his musical experimentations with that of Luigi De Angelis, (Fanny and Alexander theater company), with sessions of field recordings that blend into the Buco Bianca oeuvre that has been recently published in Tempo Reale. He creates drawings, mosaics, micromosaics and installations t!hat define an efficient operational process (an evolution) that blossoms into a style.

Impersonnal 

The artist show the critic a work in progress. It is the portrait of a young woman, still in the stage of photographic study of the face. This is the fourth work in a series that he started during his artist’s residency in Russia, a series that explores the possibilities of creating, with stone, faces, physiognomies that are really forms of interiority. The critic informs the artist that he is writing about him, and even though he intends mainly to write about his mosaic work, he wants to include plentiful mention of his work in art, theatre, music, performance art and installations, which the artist has carried through the years and is one of his main characteristics. The critic also tells him that he intends to find an adequate form for the text he is writing, following his natural obsessive inclination, confronting formal expressive problems and the nature of the vessel determining its contents. The artist seems interested. After expressing his intention to include the very conversation they are presently having, the critic turns around and notices a flexible tool that the artist used for one of his performances, the violent carving of a block of porphyry. The tool is laid on a box near a low table in the living room. The critic wants to mention this object in the article too. The table is near a large window. The artist usually works in here, devoutly kneeling in front of his mosaics. The window’s view shows, in the distance (but not too far), Ravenna’s industrial zone. On the table are laid out some tools for mosaic work: tweezers, nippers, adhesive and reading glasses. Another table dominates the room: a drafting table, horizontal and adjusted to a height suitable to allow work standing up. This table is completely covered with books, laid out in a rather orderly fashion. Some are open, others closed with bookmarks, others have notes that are written or drawn. A computer screen and keyboard are also here.

Critic

Sergio Policcicchio creates drawings, mosaics, micromosaics and installations that grant form to what is hidden in his mind by digging in its progressive stratification of following or breaking rules, of thought, littérature and suggestion of the world out there. Every work of his is the incarnation of a phase in his life to which he is intimately linked. Every work of his contains an accumulation of the time that precedes its creation. Time, which is so closely linked to the technique of mosaic because of the nature of the materials and the methods use to create it, is condensed in the works of Sergio Policicchio in the form of length, in the manner of Henri-Louis Bergson, a fusion of states of consciousness. It is an accumulation of moments, like so many stepfalls, a succession of instants that follow each other, separated from one another but in a continuous stream which shapes life, in which the present is the result of all that has happened before, and already contains the future. His creations, if the form of drawings, mosaics, micromosaics or installations, all define spaces where body, eye and mind start to move and allow us to p!erceive the length of life and with it, intuitions, feelings, relationships and meaning.

The compositions are structures in vertical and horizontal force fields that move between empty and filled spaces, densifications and scarcity, coherence and chaos. From this comes a tridimensionality that can be explored but not measured. Sergio Policicchio constructs physical and metaphysical spaces, anisotropic and inhomogeneous, whose dimensions, articulations and proportions are not measurable by human scale. It is something too small to be seen, too mysterious to be understood and too intertwined t!o be crossed or traversed. It is too sacred to be faced.