Dead from hunger, 2004

Dead from hunger

My work is to have asked that my exhibition space for the collective exhibition of food design be absolutely empty, with no lighting. On the post indicating names and titles, my name was printed on one side, and the text “Dead from hunger” on the other side.
Il pranzo di Babette, organized by Olga Gambari, Cortilio del Maglio, Turin, 2004

Braille, 2004

In 2002, work on the theme of a record cover.
I then consider the fact that the people who are most sensitive to music are most certainly the blind.

So I start my first work in Braille alphabet.
Braille writing is paradoxically very esthetical.

In 2003, I write a sentence in Braille, without any translation.
This is a work to be touched and felt.

In 2004 I write a sentence in Braille over 3 meters long, for which each dot measures 6 cm in diameter.
To be read with the palm of the hand.
2004, Il Corridoio dell’Arte, organized by O.Gambari, Uffici della Provincia di Torino - 18 x 24, organized by Federica Rosso, 41 arte contemporanea, Torino - 2001, Q13-Garage, organized by Alberto Zanchetta & Paola Capata, Center Candiani, Mestre.

Confession, 2011

Five things amiss
(five bridges, p. 3)

She did it all right, and she told me. We were at her place, we drank peppermint tea she’d joust brought from Morocco, a strange, heartfelt light filtered in spots through the first floor windows. Strangely enough, all was pretty silent. She told me she did it all right. Out of the blue, without reflection, even though in retrospect it’s easy to guess her motives. Frustration, challenge, revenge? Probably; and yet possibly not. Anyway, she told me, she later ran into the bathroom, one of those lavatories that seem to be temporary even though they’ve been there forever, and found it unexplainably empty. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, more upset for her gesture than for the hurry, and realized she was blushing. Her elbows were still bent behind her back. Her forehead, she told me, shimmered with a crown of sweat. We drank some more tea, then I went back home.

“There must be a mistake.”

Many books, a ham cutter, two works of art (unauthenticated), dinners and lunches (but they don’t really count), a pair of shoes, a scarf, a sweater (of which I’m very fond), a t-shirt (green), a Brooks saddle, an eggshell, three euros and fifty cents (yesterday).

Arthur Koestler wrote that in England, until pretty recently in modern history, death penalty was the standard punishment for an extremely wide array of crimes, from murder to sorcery, from blasphemy to theft. Paradoxically, this ended up spurring minor crimes, instead of acting as a deterrent: criminals, for instance, were perfectly aware they would hardly be sentenced to death for having stolen some fruit.

Abessive is the grammatical case indicating the lack of something (without something, without someone). It exists in Finnish, Estonian, in some Sami languages and in Turk. In Finnish it applies both to nouns and to verbs, by the use of the -tta/-ttä suffix. For instance: opettaja (teacher) becomes, in abessive, opettajatta (without teacher), jää (ice) becomes jäättä (without ice). Its use with verbs is similar: heittää (to throw) becomes heittämättä (without throwing, without having thrown).

There’s nothing else, I believe. You can take anything else, your choice. I’ll be out of Milan until next week. Keep the keys, you never know.

Vincenzo Latronico, 2011

Vertige, 2013

2013, Words through time, time through words, curated by Federica Tattoli, Artopia, Milan