Normally words are mixed or played upon, ancientpainting, modern painting: “what a great mistake”, there is only one kind ofpainting. Good painting.
Talking about art has always been a difficult matter; and even more difficult in our days due to the great existing disorientation: it is a tough job to channel this ambiguous current, to let people know what it is and what looks like something, to make understand that art means creating, not copying or transcribing natural things as any mortal sees them. This restlessness, this way of understanding, this way of balancing masses does not implicate in any way the precise copy of nature; art is saying something in the most beautiful way possible, idealising the vision one feels. Painting with the heart.
Normally words are mixed or played upon, ancient painting, modern painting: “what a great mistake”, there is only one kind of painting. Good painting. All paths are good as long as one has the intention: things must not be done following a method, one must not find the way or system of solving a painting; each painting is a different problem; the artist’s state of mind has a great influence. A work or art requires dedicating all the love, expressive force and feeling that one is capable of.
Colour, colour, how right was Van Gogh when saying that a painter had to be colourful and when saying painter I refer to that of the future. (The day everyone realises the beauty of colour and forgets the reason, they will then understand that not everything is appearance in a painting, although that does not mean the latter should be forgotten). Maybe then they will be able to understand some artists. The satisfaction one experiences when putting one color next to another, in making the chromatic masses vibrate, in making a green color sing, a red color shine; to value without making the colour dirty and express in the most natural way one’s feelings, without torture or affectation; in one word, simply, profoundly, this is my ideal; others can search another way, I do not care, not all ideas are the same.
I would like to talk about my pictorial emotions, I would like to make you understand my bitterness and disappointments in front a painting, I am not a writer so I can only express them and very badly by painting. I do not want to talk about others’ paintings. What for if I can hardly explain mine? I only know I have it deep inside, in the very heart of me and that I feel it so strongly that I cannot help it and I must paint, paint. Many people have asked me if I see the way I paint, “how foolish”; I feel it this way and it is a need which leads me to use such and such colour, such and such shape. This peace, this torture, this pleasure, this bitterness is part of ourselves and I feel sad for those who do not feel it.
Modern or ancient painting; who cares. What we need is “good painting”. They look at us from the back, maybe in the future, when they face us and they acknowledge us the way we acknowledge the great maestros, our works can be judged with more righteousness.
