Listening to the Contrafforte
The natural environment is far very far from the daily life of many people, especially those who live in large cities. A deep fracture separates us from sensing our natural roots, which feel ever more distant and unfamiliar. The task of art is to build bridges, to trace paths that can lead human beings back into a relationship with nature. With this performance, we bring the images and sounds of the natural environment into the heart of Venice, into the Correr Museum. The performance takes place in an enclosed space in which everything is filtered, artificial, reelaborated by human hands. But the practice of listening can be applied anywhere and goes beyond the boundaries represented by the museum walls.
The artist draws while watching the video, without looking at the sheet of paper. The spectators also receive a sheet and a pencil, and they may, if they wish, join the performance, inspired by the images and sounds of the documentary. Perhaps their gaze is captured for a moment by the black-and-white images. Perhaps their hearing is absorbed by the symphony of sounds. Each of them silently records the emotions of the present moment. And so, by relating the mark written by the human hand to the mark written by nature, the structure of written language breaks apart. This practice can be called a “boundless writing,” because it has no defined forms. It is not a discipline like Latin, Chinese, or Arabic handwriting, rooted in their respective cultures, nor is it about refining a technique. 
Boundless writing is a meditative practice that leads us beyond our physical and mental boundaries. At times, a word may arise in the mind and the gesture may be influenced by our habitual handwriting, but this relationship with familiar forms is personal: it may appear or be entirely absent. Just as in meditation thoughts come and go without effort and the mind gradually yields to silence, here too the forms are left free to flow, without limits. 
On a large screen, black-and-white images unfold: lines, shadows, impressions of figures carved into stone, insects in constant motion, ice stalactites in perpetual thaw. It is a landscape seen through a lens that magnifies it and renders it abstract, timeless. It is a “natural writing.” It is the great story of time painted on the vast canvas of the Pliocene Contrafforte. As we look at these images, we feel ourselves transported toward an instinctive form of perception, in which we lose, for a moment, our grip on the reality around us. We begin to see nature in its essence as line, primordial mark, “non-geometric” geometry, a sublime balance of forms. At last, we can let ourselves go, step down from our pedestal as dominators of the world.
Read the article in Italian ASCOLTO
