ENZO ARCHETTI
VIBRATIONS OF LIGHT
"The light, in my works, starts inside the painting
as if a great luminosity, a perfect balance, a harmony existed at the origin and
I tell it with different techniques and above all with colour." - Enzo Archetti
Enzo Archetti was born in Monticelli Brusati in
1946. He lives in Brescia.
He began to take an interest in art during his high
school years and after graduating from a Master Degree he continued his cultural
education, graduating in Modern Literature. During the same period, and without
interrupting his university studies, he attended courses in drawing and etching
at the Accademia Carrara in Bergamo for two years, under the direction of Trento
Longaretti.
In 1973 he entered the art scene with his first
exhibition in Brescia. In the years immediately following he exhibited in
various Italian cities including Milan, Verona, Modena, Brindisi, Florence, Rome
and in 1991 in Tokyo in the Galleria Forni.
In the nineties, his artistic language took shape,
determined by the fusion of different materials, such as gauze cloths, carpets,
ropes, rusty iron plates, with figurative elements.
In 2004 he exhibited at the Libanaise Academies in
Beirut and in the same year one of his works entered the collection of the
Modern Art Museum in Kuwait City.
In 2006 he published with the publisher Serra
Tarantola an artist's book "Fragments of Infinity". It is an illustrated story
with 44 pictorial works that develops like a large painting of over 100 pages in
which Archetti tries to decipher the Infinite.
Since 2009 he has started working relationships with
Galleries in Germany, including: Galerie Wehr-Dusseldorf, Galerie Rusch-Hamburg,
Galerie Bilder Bingold-Nuremberg ...
In 2011 he held a solo exhibition in the East
Gallery Castle in Beijing.
For Archetti, painting is one of the most effective
means to tell about himself, others and the world. At the beginning of his
artistic activity, in the 1970s, he painted reality, then, until the early
1990s, he confronted the great artists of the past, in particular with Piero
della Francesca and subsequently combined his figurative with the informal,
keeping the female figure with cobalt blue eyes as the dominant element.
Technique
Enzo Archetti’s work is cohesion of different techniques. Rare fabrics and
valuable carpets enter the canvas and contribute to the realization of the
artwork. Oil colours mixed with acrylic give an extremely delicate effect,
similar to the fresco. The final artwork is always balanced and refined.
The Latest Exhibitions:
2011 Pechino, East Gallery, “Riflessi”
2012 Travagliato (Brescia), Dimensione Casa, “E la gente va”
Brindisi, Temporary First Gallery, “E la gente va”.
Pechino, Art Gallery, Itamila, “Riflessi d’infinito”
2014 Bad Kissingen (Germania), Hunsthans Hassloch, Gallerie der modern
“Riflessi d’infinito”
2015 Marbella, Casinò, “Tributo a Picasso, international art expo”
Malaga, Cac Mijas Museo
2016 Verona, Casa Mazzanti Caffè “Riflessi d’infinito”
S:Paolo (Bs) Sala Municipale, “Pioggia d’infinito”
Iseo,
Castello Oldofredi, “A piedi nudi, guardando Christo and Jeanne Claude”
Ibiza, Galleria Marta Torres
2018 Baf , Bergamo Arte Fiera con Galleria “Gli Angeli”
2019 Lumezzane, Torre Avogadro, “Contemporaneo”
Quinzano d’Oglio, ex Chiesa delle Dimesse, “Come l’aria”
The Writings By Enzo Archetti
Verso
l’infinito
Anche quel
mattino, dallo studio, vedevo il sole da una parte e la
luna dall’altra, l’aria era rarefatta, il silenzio maestoso.
Ti sentivi bene.
Ho preso un
pennello, ho preparato un giallo pastoso luminoso dorato e
con forza ho dato una grande pennellata su un fondo bianco.
Ho fissato poi quel giallo luminoso dorato e mi sono
commosso. E’ una pennellata che conservo, conservo la sua
libertà, la sua profondità e immediatezza.
E’ un discorso
che arriva subito al dunque, che non concede repliche o
discussioni. Se ne sta là la mia pennellata come il sole e
la luna che cantano in cielo la loro armonia.
Enzo Archetti (da
“Appunti di viaggio” febbraio 2009)
|
To Infinity
Even that morning, from the studio, I saw the sun on one side and the moon on
the other, the air was thin, the silence majestic.
You were feeling good.
I took a brush, I prepared a golden bright pasty yellow and with force I gave a
large brushstroke on a white background. I then stared at that bright golden
yellow and I was moved. It is a brushstroke that I keep, I keep its freedom, its
depth and immediacy.
It is a speech that immediately gets to the point, which does not allow for
replies or discussions. My brushstroke is there like the sun and the moon who
sing their harmony in the sky.
Enzo Archetti (From "Travel Notes" February 2009) |
ALBA TRAMONTO e poi ancora ALBA
Il vento
continuava a portare con sé le foglie, i fiori e con i
fiori le sterpaglie, i suoni, i ricordi, i colori, le
ombre, gli umori della gente. Tutto era in movimento,
vibrava, ogni cosa sembrava volesse entrare in scena per
essere dipinta attorno alla gente. E’ la grande scenografia
del mondo.
Tutti poi
sostenevano di avere una parte importante, molto importante
da interpretare: c’erano gli alberi che volevano arricchire
i percorsi, il mare che avanzava sempre più azzurro, la
collina che si stendeva come un limite, il cielo che
ripeteva di dover essere sempre presente ed ovunque, le
stesse foglie spinte dal vento si sentivano indispettite
perché non riuscivano ad essere protagoniste… e poi
intravedevi laggiù ventate di colore, d’oro, di luce che
nell’avvicinarsi assumevano forme indistinte ma cariche di
sentimenti.
La ruggine,
addirittura, si gongolava di gioia perché, non solo poteva
fare da sfondo ad una figura leggera vestita di rosa, ma
poteva diventare una barriera in primo piano per dare
risalto all’oro e al verde che erano dietro di lei.
I più
soddisfatti erano senz’altro i brillantini, gli specchi,
l’oro zecchino, l’argento fino perché avevano il potere di
trasformare il reale in surreale, il grigio in luce.
C’era chi
spingeva e chi pretendeva di avere la precedenza come gli
aquiloni, le gocce d’acqua, la notte, il flauto di Pan,
l’aria, la polvere, le ragnatele e c’era anche chi sostava
ormai da molto tempo e non riusciva assolutamente ad
emergere, a farsi sentire e rispettare: veniva così
allontanato nel silenzio e nell’abbandono dai colori decisi
e dalle forme più libere.
Ma sicuramente
tutti gli esclusi, prima o poi, si faranno risentire,
ribusseranno e dovranno essere accolti e accontentati.
Sono visioni in
campo lungo, ma anche volti, sguardi proiettati su percorsi.
Sono grandi occhi che riflettono gli azzurri del cielo, sono
passaggi, racconti, trasparenze, mete lontane e tanti sogni.
Sogni che srotolano i loro fili in grado di ricucire anche
gli imprevisti, appunti di viaggio lasciati incompiuti,
valigie che non servono più, muri che limitano l’infinito
che è sempre più in là.
E così la gente
continua il proprio viaggio, dall’alba al tramonto, su
strade, sentieri, nelle case, in riva al mare, nello
spazio, in collina, nei pensieri e incontra pagine bianche
che pretendono di essere descritte con segni e strati di
colore.
Enzo Archetti (da
“Appunti di viaggio” - dicembre 2011)
|
DAWN SUNSET and then ALBA again
The wind continued to carry with it the leaves, the flowers and with the flowers
the brushwood, the sounds, the memories, the colours, the shadows, the moods of
the people. Everything was in motion, vibrated, everything seemed to want to
enter the scene to be painted around the people. It is the great scenography of
the world.
Everyone then claimed to have an important part, very important to interpret:
there were the trees that wanted to enrich the paths, the sea that was advancing
more and more blue, the hill that stretched out as a limit, the sky that
repeated that it must always be present and everywhere, the same leaves pushed
by the wind felt annoyed because they could not be the protagonists ... and then
you could glimpse bursts of colour, gold, light that as they approached assumed
indistinct shapes but full of feelings.
Rust even rejoiced with joy because, not only could it be the background to a
light figure dressed in pink, but it could become a barrier in the foreground to
highlight the gold and green that were behind her.
The most satisfied were undoubtedly the glitter, the mirrors, the pure gold, the
fine silver because they had the power to transform the real into the surreal,
gray into light.
There were those who pushed and those who claimed to have precedence such as
kites, drops of water, the night, the pan's flute, air, dust, cobwebs and there
were also those who had stopped for a long time and was absolutely unable to
emerge, to make itself heard and respected: it was thus removed in silence and
abandonment by strong colours and freer forms.
But surely all the excluded, sooner or later, will be resentful, will rebuff and
will have to be welcomed and satisfied.
They are long-shot visions, but also faces, gazes projected onto paths. They are
big eyes that reflect the blue of the sky, they are passages, stories,
transparencies, distant destinations and many dreams. Dreams that unroll their
threads capable of stitching up even the unexpected, travel notes left
unfinished, suitcases that are no longer needed, walls that limit the infinite
that is increasingly beyond.
And so people continue their journey, from dawn to dusk, on roads, paths, in
houses, on the seashore, in space, in the hills, in thoughts and encounter blank
pages that claim to be described with signs and layers of colour.
Enzo Archetti (From "Travel Notes" - December 2011) |
TRIONFO DEL
BIANCO
Quella sera un
bel gruppo di colori si radunò: erano troppe le cose da
discutere. Non c’era la maggioranza legale, perché si sa i
colori si moltiplicano all’infinito, però erano presenti i
colori più tenaci, i più decisi, quelli di maggior
personalità, e c’erano anche tutti i più furbi.
Il Rosso di
cadmio si è dimostrato subito il più irrequieto, il Giallo
il più impulsivo, il Blu oltremare il più pacato e solenne,
il Turchese spiava, l’Ocra balbettava, il Verde non trovava
mai il coraggio di intervenire con adeguata energia; in
mezzo a tutti si infiltrava la terra di Siena bruciata e
naturale, il Grigio, molto grigio e il Rosa continuava a
saltare. Il Bianco non parlava, zitto e in disparte
ascoltava.
Le personalità
più spiccate volevano ad ogni novità avere il sopravvento.
Il Rosso di cadmio chiaro si alleò subito con lo scuro, col
medio, col Carminio e addirittura con l’Arancio per dettare
legge ed essere sempre e dovunque il protagonista.
- “Non puoi,
testone, entrare nel quadro dell’infinito, non fa per te,
lascia perdere!”
- “E’
impossibile -ribattevano in coro tutti i rossi- ogni idea
deve essere sostenuta dalla nostra forte personalità”.
Il Bianco non si
muoveva, rimaneva silenzioso e, se tentava di parlare, non
gli lasciavano terminare la frase. Riusciva a volte a
intrufolarsi nei discorsi, ma gli altri colori avevano il
timbro di voce molto, ma molto più acuto e perentorio del
suo.
Il Blu decise di
unirsi al Verde e vinse decisamene sul tema della collina.
Si stabilì anche che il Giallo non sarebbe mai riuscito a
stare nel dipinto da solo: è per sua natura troppo luminoso.
Al Viola fu addirittura vietato, democraticamente, di
intervenire e gli si concesse una sola pennellata per quadro
e col pennellino doppiozero.
L’Oro e
l’Argento si imposero bene: controllavano i rossi,
spegnevano i gialli e mandavano i riflessi senza alcun
ritegno come uno specchio al sole.
Un po’ di
confusione c’era, eh sì che ce n’era… e tanta!
In questa
assenza di una linea guida, di un tracciato, di una meta
precisa, il Bianco si ritrovò carico della sua energia
primordiale che era stata assopita per parecchio tempo e
divenne in breve tempo il padrone della situazione. Si
sentiva orgoglioso: in fin dei conti era pur sempre la somma
di tutti i colori, rossi compresi, e non aveva alcuna
difficoltà a sostenere i muri scalcinati, il silenzio, il
vuoto, l’infinito, l’ordine.
Guardò il Nero
con aria benevola: -“Se vuoi –disse- puoi anche scrivermi
sopra”. Il Nero a modo suo rise, dentro comunque era molto
compiaciuto.
Si ritrovarono
nuovamente complici il Bianco e il Nero, ritornarono come ai
vecchi tempi, ritornarono all’essenza, alla pulizia, ad
interpretare il mondo soltanto in due.
E così il Bianco
si sentì veramente con la B maiuscola, anche perché poteva
candidamente diventare Bianco calce, Bianco di titanio, di
piombo, di platino, lucido-opaco-satinato, addirittura
Bianco su Bianco. Si era trovato, senza quasi accorgersene,
ad essere il vero leader di tutti i colori compresi gli
assenti.
Almeno per ora.
(da
“Appunti di viaggio” - maggio 2008)
|
TRIUMPH OF WHITE
That evening a beautiful group of colours gathered: there were too many things
to discuss. There was no legal majority, because you know colours multiply
indefinitely, but there were the most tenacious colours, the most decisive,
those with the greatest personality, and there were also all the cleverest ones.
The Cadmium Red immediately proved to be the most restless, the Yellow the most
impulsive, the Ultramarine Blue the most calm and solemn, the Turquoise spied,
the Okra stammered, the Green never found the courage to intervene with adequate
energy; in the midst of all the burnt and natural Sienna infiltrated, the Gray,
very gray, and the Rosa continued to jump. White did not speak, quietly and on
the sidelines listened.
The most prominent personalities wanted every novelty to have the upper hand.
The light cadmium red immediately allied itself with the dark, with the medium,
with the Carmine and even with the Orange to dictate the law and be the
protagonist always and everywhere.
- "You can't, big head, enter the picture of infinity, it's not for you, forget
it!"
- "It is impossible - all the reds argued in chorus - every idea must be
supported by our strong personality".
The White did not move, he remained silent and, if he tried to speak, they would
not let him finish the sentence. At times he managed to sneak into speeches, but
the other colours had the tone of his voice much, much more acute and peremptory
than his.
The Blue decided to join the Green and decisively won on the theme of the hill.
It was also established that Yellow would never be able to fit into the painting
on its own: it is by its nature too bright. Viola was even democratically
forbidden to intervene and was allowed only one brushstroke per painting and
with a double-zero brush.
Gold and Silver imposed themselves well: they controlled the reds, turned off
the yellows and sent reflections without any restraint like a mirror in the sun.
There was a bit of confusion, yes there was ... and a lot!
In this absence of a guideline, of a path, of a precise goal, White found
himself charged with his primordial energy which had been dormant for a long
time and quickly became the master of the situation. He felt proud: in the end
he was still the sum of all colours, including reds, and he had no difficulty in
supporting the shabby walls, the silence, the emptiness, the infinite, the
order.
He looked at the Black with a benevolent air: - "If you want - he said - you can
also write on me". The Black laughed in his own way, inside however he was very
pleased.
Black and White again found themselves accomplices, they returned as in the old
days, they returned to the essence, to cleanliness, to interpret the world only
in two.
And so White really felt with a capital B, also because he could candidly become
White Lime, White of Titanium, of Lead, of Platinum, Glossy-Matt-Satin, even
White on White. He had found himself, almost without realizing it, to be the
true leader of all colours including the absent.
At least for now.
(From "Travel Notes" - May 2008) |
ELENA ALBERTI NULLI
Subject: A thought for you
Date: January 30, 2019
To: Enzo Archetti
Dear Enzo, thank you very much for the gift of the book. Stupendous.
I am enjoying its restless harmony, veiled with melancholy in the language of
signs and colours of special mystical intensity. I like the constant search for
a compositional balance in the subtle and dynamic design. The shapes appear
light, weightless in a precise and waving line, made of air, the distant
atmospheres of a dreamed world. Wonderful. I am fascinated by the infinity of
the sky in the eyes of women, light and backlight in the journeys of invisible
trains, colours that chase each other in symphonies of spaces and reflections.
Journeys during the day, at night and in the evening, wagons of restless,
impulsive, calm, courted, smart, intelligent, solemn in silence, violent in
scream colours.
Your paintings, drawings and words, give me so much serenity with their beauty
suffused in the transparency of colour, in the slender refined lines, I am moved
by that enchanting delicate chromatism that is there and is not there. A special
gift belongs to your feeling and your hands, you know how to stop so much
elegance, kindness, drama and energy on paper and over time.
Thanks and congratulations, dear friend.
And not only a party of colours but also a dance of words.
In the preface your style blends with the situations through the arrangement of
the words that follow the same rhythm of the emotions experienced in the inner
reality. Rhythm therefore becomes the protagonist of the text where the
characters and the episodes are nothing more than a pretext to tell. A story
that avoids complex constructions and is based on an essential syntax made up of
cadences. Thoughts are rivers of poetry where escapes of fiery sunsets are
reflected, worlds shining with the purest gold. And above all a haughty and
white girl.
Thanks Enzo for this important splendid gift. I wait for you at the coffee at
10.30 and I hug you
Elena |