Non
chiederci la parola che squadri da ogni lato
l’animo nostro informe, e a lettere di fuoco
lo dichiari e risplenda come un croco
perduto in mezzo a un polveroso prato.
Ah
l’uomo che se ne va sicuro,
agli altri ed a se stesso amico,
e l’ombra sua non cura che la canicola
stampa sopra uno scalcinato muro!
Non
domandarci la formula che mondi possa aprirti,
sì qualche storta sillaba e secca come un ramo.
Codesto solo oggi possiamo dirti,
ciò che non siamo, ciò che non vogliamo.
Montale
I was lucky and I sought strenuously to meet great artists and to submit to those who esteemed my job. In addition to painting my passion for poetry he led me to write and publish a collection titled minimae, which in Latin stands for the little things. I met years ago Maurizio Cucchi, was a special day for me, I who usually are rational enough I was freaked out, overwhelmed by an ocean of emotions because my work would have been rated by a major. The time spent in the small downtown bar, Via Cesare Battisti is for me a very fond memory and foundational. He read the poems of the collection, he gave me his opinion, some he liked very much to my satisfaction. Different facets of that day I was impressed, the great culture of Maurizio Cucchi, its availability to the young poet in front of him, the acumen, but most said not all are poets and poetry is not all, you have to take the responsibility to say what is and what is not poetry, or poetry dies. It takes culture, preparation, sensitivity and talent, he said. He advised me to read Raboni, Zanotto, and the collection of Italian poets of the twentieth century edited by him. We found ourselves in similar passion for Montale. Not all are poets, and not all are artists. In these years I have listened to my despite the presumption of many people because of arrogance and conceit it is, to say: “we are all artists.” But even if the creative aspect is present in power in each person, this does not mean that all are artists, write a nice card does all the poets. Perhaps it is not possible real definitions, and you can not go into the sea magnum of what is art or what is not, definitely not through a script, but something can be said.
I rely on Montale, undisputed genius and my great great love:
Codest can tell you now,
what we are not, what we do not want.
Many at certain point want to be called Artist,regardless of the work they do. But for any job there is necessary to study, so there is also for artists or poets. It takes craft, it means the study, exercise, practical and a great talent. In the artistic process, the technique is the basis, without technical talent is not free to express themselves and there is no art talent. Years of study, culture, exercise, fatigue, yes even physical fatigue, endurance and research, years to look at reality and themselves with clinical and merciless eye, look for a strong personal style, without ever stuck a choice , ask for feedback from those who have culture, choose the tool to express what you have inside as closely as possible, they are only some technical aspects. But behind, behind an artist is a drama. Art is drama, something has to give. And to live like this, it means to live the depth of every instant, and also feel, hear “All life and his work”, he, pain, and feel it every day, and continue with this wound that never heals. When someone tells me we are all artists say then we are all surgeons, come, I am working myself. Artists are born and become. See the world from such a unique and privileged perspective requires great strength, a great emotional balance, and art as well as being a drama, has a very strong destructive component. No coincidence that many are destroyed. So today following Montale as a mentor tell you that art is not staying at the edges, it is not to do something recognizable and enjoyable. The first material that the plasma artist himself, his life, sparing nothing of himself ‘, undergoing continuous twists. The artist is not in the edges. Art is not and should not be pleasant. Art is an Absolute. On the table of each artist are his guts, all of himself and his heart. The artist creates, first of all creates, according to rules. Many talents were put to the test by the harshness of reality, because being an artist means having sensitivity to the power of n, and stay close to those who often destroys moving coarsely, means spending a lot of its no return means no recognition. It means betting everything on themselves, time, strength, money. Out of respect for those who make two or three jobs to keep the artistic work, out of respect for a genius like Modigliani, Giacometti, please, no, we’re not all artists. To those who wish to deepen there are the letters of all the great artists of all time, here is a taste, in the series of author cards. Then we can laugh, joke, do it often, but on this subject, I would make a point. Because they are tired of seeing the arrogance and presumption water down the genius. A minimum of respect for those who have given humanity the treasures of inestimable value by sacrificing his own life as the genius of Modiagliani, a swan. No, definitely not everyone is Modigliani or an artist.