Sight Has So Much To Say To The Eyes
The artist’s eye looks through a frame and sees the world as it is, but, being as it is, it is actually otherwise.
Last night I read the Italian story “What the sun and the wind tell”. My vision, open, rigorous, characterized by the imaginative process, used the stimuli necessary for a good cognitive work to discover what is undiscoverable in the real world, so that I myself become part of a miraculous Asheravceda Uidem, an exit from myself, a penetration beyond the boundaries of normality and objectivity.
No wonder my vision is still assaulted by the images of an unadulterated experience of expansion of the Self towards otherness, because suddenly I feel that I am another person.
Sublimely, reading the story ensured my place in the epic of a man transfigured by the revelation of his unconscious, lost in the dizzying destiny of “high flight” carried out in pursuit of the images of the soul, vibrating on the same wavelength as the work of a painter who tries to represent “the soul of things”, their resonance, without falling into exaggeration. Shy, curious, with many hopes, such a painter creates the suggestion of a landscape ambience in the direct reflection of sunlight by the mirror of an imaginary which, wearing various forms, operating a selection of the convenient experience, establishes the presence of an a priori consciousness.
When the Sun saw that the Wind was at the top of the mountain, he ran to hide behind a cloud. But the Wind called him again, saying: “Sun, Sun, come here ! Both the greenery and the flowers miss you. Oh, don’t be afraid of me. You know that I am good and gentle. However, the Sun didn’t want to come out from behind the cloud. Then the Wind blew, drove the cloud away and revealed the beautiful face of the bright Sun.
Does your vision preserve that acquired greatness of reduction to the essence, to which you give the meaning of revealing another side of existence, always denied?
Obviously, this account is clothed in the mantle of a particularly rich imagination. If the observer were forced to postulate some form of “memory” in the sap of a vivid imagination, and if this lukewarm memory were contained within the field of vision of a brilliant painter, then my contact with art would be an exit from time into a world about which I no longer know if it is real or a dream.
All I know is that my eyes often dream that they are painted in a fantastic picture where the dream itself becomes sight. In this way, another side of my existence, always denied during the transition from the real to the unreal, becomes nuanced: the possibility appears to experience the individual trajectories of the artists, to follow the diversity of media approached and to understand the meanings of an endless work.
I sense that sight has much more to say to my eyes, especially if the sun does not blind the dreaming eye, and especially if the sharp wind of early spring evenings does not carry my thoughts to cloudy distances where there is neither life nor death, but only an immense dark and cold chaos. After all, I would like to be a drop of light, a drop of immortality, or just a drop of ether, so that I can penetrate the space of a modern metaphysical vision that I can spread on the canvas with just the force of thought.
Do you follow the model of symbolic representations whose image is preserved throughout a vision capable of materializing in a work of art?
When you paint on a tangible plane, then the size and shape of the brush are oriented to correspond to the perspective of the plane, with the mention that this plane represents the place where the “horizontal” world finds its meaning deep around a vertical world made up of entities of language and visions, engaged in quasi-manipulable “adventures”.
This is why, reading the story of the Sun and the Wind, I recognized in myself the talent of the painter to highlight the character portrayed by projecting him in a uniform monochrome background, which traverses time.
I’ll put it in simpler terms. What the eye mirrors in another universe, in a way full of flavor and sensitivity, derives from the expansion of the frontier that delimits reality from fiction, through a symbolic character who tries to make his very life a work of art. For this reason I am inclined to take the place of the sun and talk to the wind as if I were talking to an old friend, with much appreciation, with accuracy, with respect, throughout a vision that materializes in a painting.
Everywhere I could observe this distinct consistency in the joining of parts in direct relation, so far as they can be obtained by reading and reliving in the imagination a story that becomes reality. In fact, the artist who puts his eyes to the test to obtain the true “sight” in strong outlines of landscapes, characters or objects, all of which are on a neutral background, must first consider himself the master model of a symbolic representations in a moment of mirroring the real in the imaginary.
The great power of art requires entering into the intimacy of a world of which you have only a vague idea, focusing your vision on the ideal-real duality, where the appearance of an unfocused vision is complemented by imagination.
Modern leadership calls on such art to change the worldview.
Sight Has So Much To Say To The Eyes when it knows that it can encompass, artistically, a fabulous world from which the artist can only come out enchanted and changed. And the artist’s eye looks through a frame and sees the world as it is, but, being as it is, it is actually different. It is a concentrated world, essentialized on the images of a world that deserves to stand the test of time in a landscape from a work of art.
