Yesterday I dreamed of the night. She was a lady
in white. The dream though kept repeating and changing with the
phases of the moon as if phases of mood. The succession of my dreams
shows my inner belief that the night is all but black and white.
Description: The title of the exhibition is FRAGMENTS (frammenti): Art as pieces of a larger reality and at the same time an expression of the inner world of the artist. Fragments also as in the production of different artists, each linked to its dimension, outside of fashion and time. Art as a principle of universal inspiration, far from precise definitions and limits to the expression of the inner freedom of the individual. Fragments to be admired, but also distinctly to be connected, ideally in a dialogue among the presented artworks.
The exhibition will be held on the 7th to the 21st September 2013 in an inner room of the Library Punto Einaudi of Salerno in the opening hours of the same.
Opening Saturday, September 7 at 19.30.
Exposing Anastasia Rapantzikou-Saliari with her landscapes and female figures muffled, protagonists of a romantic world and clouded, mindful of the past; Leticia Maranhao with realistic photographs by architectural details; Zeina Nader Selwan artist from painting spontaneous and intensely expressive; Antonia Calabrese Artworks presenting paintings taste romantic taken from the mythological world and inner; Virginie Gascon from informal intense chromaticism.
In all our lives we seek the cause of things and maybe the question that we ask the most is actually: WHY?! But the beauty of the sea and sky is of the things not to be questioned, it just is! It exists as measure for everything else... [I.R.S.]
Although it is a girl, my husband immediately thought of Lountemis when he saw the painting: "The dark became deeper. The chatting of the cypresses dwindled. The long candles of the sky were on. And everything was milk... milk... indigo... and sparkles. The river was murmuring in its sleep hidden words. The child didn't sleep that night... all night long. He wrote the most bitter, his longest of the fairy-tales... And in the dawn he started walking. He was solaced. He did it last night: he had counted all the stars... He had counted them all... slowly... patiently... one by one... All... And he found them all there correct -no one was missing..." Menelaos Lountemis [A.R.]