CELESTIAL MATERIAL considers
the harmony and simplicity
that exist in the laws of nature,
notwithstanding the apparent
chaos that governs the universe
and our individual lives. What perception
do we have of the place in
which we live and in what way do
we stand in lucid wonder before
the sky? Our perception of reality
has been filtered by centuries of
history and scientific labour that
have continually reconditioned
our awareness of being here and
now in a given space and in a specific
time. But what do we really
know of ourselves and of what we
are made? When matter is broken
down into ever smaller particles,
we find that its roots lie in mathematical
ratios. And yet the world
as it is laid out before our eyes is
made up of diverse colours and
principles, of sounds and sentiments,
of shapes and thoughts.
Is it really only a question of numbers?
The quest for the secrets of
the cosmos is an inexhaustible
source of questions and answers,
which in turn generate ever more
complex and impalpable queries.
The ultimate truth may never be
knowable but our curiosity will
always drive us further forward.
This exhibition seeks to depict
something of the human soul
which never tires of examining its
own destiny, whether within or
outside itself.
At the height of the splendour of
Byzantine art (6th century AD) the
skies of paintings and mosaics,
exquisitely portraying transcendence,
are infused with abstract
symbolism, and the spatial relations
between the world and its
inhabitants tell of the supernatural
rather than the natural. Constructed
from golden tesserae,
the universe is circumscribed by
what the human eye is able to see,
while the entire world is bathed in
the strength and warmth of the
sun’s light. Not until the advent
of Cimabue do the figures in a
painting abandon their fixed
gazes and postures and become
active participants in the
dialogue between the earth and
the cosmos. Celestial Material is
an exploration of this journey. Our
relationship with what surrounds
us is constantly evolving but there
is no doubt that, for the sciences
and, consequently, for our lives,
the turning point was the revolutionary
shift from the Ptolemaic to the Copernican view of the
universe. No longer at the centre
of all existence but relegated to
the role of an inhabitant of but
one planet among many, Man
felt disconcerted and had to face
his own weakness, ignorance,
and fear. Our planet is just one
of many possible (or impossible)
worlds, and not even the best of
them. So it was that from dominant
beings, men were reduced
to actors on a much smaller stage
than they had imagined.
“Do you hear the delicious harmony
which the heavenly bodies produce
by their revolutions?” (Moral
Dialogues, Dialogue between the
Earth and the Moon, Milano, Mondadori,
1979) asks the earth of the
moon in the words of Leopardi,
which are as relevant now as they
were when they were written. For
this exhibition, Dania Zanotto
has been entrusted with the task
of conveying the surprise that
these two lords of the creation feel
at contemplating each other and
realising that they are different
but share the same fate of
orbiting the sun, joined together
by an unbreakable bond.
Zanotto, from Treviso, has created
a splendid, white installation.
Sister moon is a devoted bride
who gathers to herself the tears
of lovers, the verses of poets, the
doubts of philosophers, and the
inquisitiveness of scholars.
Zanotto’s works are simulacra of
the spirit, patiently constructed
from resin, glue, stones, metal threads, feathers, sea-smoothed
pieces of glass, coral, and pearls.
Out of seemingly nothing, she
fashions natural fabrics that become
the material of shamanic
vestments which could have
belonged to Greek gods or Arab
warlords, to Roman emperors or
Inca sovereigns; to the priests of
revealed religions or to worshippers
of the sun. The universal relevance
of these works comes from
their gentle but powerful ability to
steer us from the earthly to the celestial,
from the contingent to the
spiritual. Their aptness is all the
more striking because their force
does not come from their weight
but from their lightness. Embroidered
and studded with different
materials, encrusted with tiny
stitches, these garments tell us
something about ourselves, but
quietly, non-judgementally, and
without pointing us in any particular
direction.
“Such is life, a fragment of light that ends in the night.” writes Céline in Journey to the End of the Night (Voyage au bout de la nuit, 1932).
Marco Martelli documents
the modern sky. Set against the
deep blue of a Lisbon night; the
blue veiled by wispy clouds in
a Milan autumn; the turquoise
of a New York morning; a bright
summer’s evening in Turin; the
intense cold of a Stockholm day;
or a golden sunset in London,
sections of buildings rise from
the lower corner of Martelli’s esicanvasses
and silently challenge
our fear of heights. We do not see
the buildings in their entirety, or
their graceful and rational design.
With meticulous precision,
Martelli paints only the top storeys
of buildings that are symbolic
of particular places. But he is not
interested in their actual function.
It matters little whether the
building is a factory or a warehouse,
a stately home or a covered
market; their function here is to be
representative. These shapes, the
product of human ingenuity, serve
to mark the space in the eternal
conflict between occupied and
unoccupied areas, between the
presence and absence of matter.
Painting thus lends itself to an
exploration of the metaphysical
while at the same time preserving
enough magic to make the idea of
inevitable finiteness bearable.
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away and the sea was no more.” (John of Patmos, Apocalypse, 19:7-9; 7:13-17; Ro 8:17-18)
The Last Judgement, inspired by the lines attributed to John of Patmos, is the fresco that adorns the walls behind the altar in the Sistine Chapel, painted by Michelangelo between 1536 and 1541. It is the most spectacular representation there is of parusia, the event of Christ’s last coming at the end of time, and marks a turning point in philosophical thinking. The confident man of Humanism and the early Renaissance is replaced by a chaotic and delirious perception of a world thrown into tumult by a complete absence of certainty.
The sculpture entitled Apocalypse, that Padua artist Ettore Greco has created for the exhibition, takes up the theme of that lack of direction and emphasizes the torment of our species which, from the second half of the 16th century, has forced us to look at the sky in a new way.
The heliocentric theory of
Nicolaus Copernicus (Toruń, 1473
- Frombork, 1543), which places
the sun at the centre of its system,
overturned the geocentrism that
claimed that the Earth was the
ruler of the known universe. The
Age of Science had begun and
the question of cosmology would
influence all types of research,
including art, from then on.
Greco approaches the subject of
the desperation of man, on the
brink of a chasm of nothingness,
by depicting a tangle of men and
horses rushing towards an abyss.
Evoking the themes of death and
eternal damnation that tormented
Auguste Rodin (Paris, 1840 -
Meudon, 1917) in the creation
of his lifework The Gates of Hell,
Greco borrows the plasticity
of form from his ideal master,
but the rhythm of his figures is
completely contemporary; in the
limbs crushed by and crushing
other limbs and in the horses’
kicking hooves we feel the need to
escape. What is new here, femminicompared
to the existential crisis
of the first two decades of the
twentieth century, is that man
is not even rebelling - he is just
frightened.
“The universe: a device contrived for the perpetual astonishment of astronomers.” (Arthur C. Clarke, Vistas in Astronomy, 37, 1993) Science defines life as the achievement of a complex level of organization within a physical system. It is not easy for man to think of himself in these terms. What we know of living beings, and what inter-disciplinary research has measured and counted in real terms of quality and quantity, is limited to the Earth’s biosphere: 350 thousand plant species, 1,200 thousand animal species, 800 thousand of which are insects, as well as 100 thousand microorganisms. And then there is Man, the only species capable of turning its gaze to the heavens. Only man is entitled, with all the fear it entails, to question his place in the universe. This peculiarity requires that a distinction be made between looking and seeing. It is a substantial difference and involves the need to push ever further, not to be satisfied with just staying alive.
Alberto Salvetti, from Vicenza, has embraced this collection of data and interpreted it on three clay blocks. The artist presents the clay in an almost raw state and imbues it with the Christian theory of creation. He combines the two values of matter and soul through the different qualities inherent to this material: it is endowed with a physical consistency, weight, inertia, and malleability. It can be conceived of as a concrete substratum of objects and substances; as a passive principle when related to shape; or again, as a concept in juxtaposition to the spirit. One clay block features myriad inch-high men - our overpopulated planet seen from space. Another shows the Periodic Table of the Elements with distances of “88 88”, where the elements yet to be discovered in space will be inscribed. The third block is etched with images of animals and plants and begs the question, how much more life exists, beyond the known world?
“This universe has not been made by any god or man but it always has been, is and will be an everliving fire, kindling itself by regular measures and going out by regular measures.” (Heraclitus, Fragments)
The partially formed bodies of the
sculptures of Mauro Benatti, the
Airuno artist to whom this exhibition
is dedicated, were created
from the unstable equilibrium
that exists between matter, philosophy
and the history of art.
Stones, iron, paper, and fabric woven
from metal wire were the essential
ingredients of his airy constructions,
made in his studio on
the banks of the river Adda, a river which for centuries has inspired
the work of artists, from Leonardo
to the Lombardy Naturalists to the
Arte Informale of Morlotti.
Whether working with stone or
shaping metal into sinuous female
figures inspired by Morlotti’s
Bathers, Benatti left no stone unturned.
A profound knowledge of
his materials and an inexhaustible
curiosity about the workings of
nature led him to explore the possibilities
that fire and its effects
on chemical reactions provide for
empirical experimentation. And
so his sculptures came into being
- almost airborne, in shades of
blue, sage green, bronze and gold.
Delicate and impalpable, they
bring to mind everything we know
of the gods of antiquity and restore
the tendency of beauty to be
both an element of redemption
and a consolation of the flesh.
Almost like butterflies emerging
from cocoons huddled on the
earth, human beings attempt to
rise up towards the infinite.
“Time is number of movement in
respect of the before and after.”
(Aristotle, Physics, IV)
Life is not to be found everywhere.
It would not even be possible on
our planet if the sun were just a little
closer or a little further away,
a little hotter or a little colder. In
those conditions, not even one
flower would grow on Earth. We
cannot know if other forms of
life exist in other parts of the universe,
but what is certain is that
if anything similar to the world as we know it exists, then it must
exist in the vicinity of a star like
the one that heats our planet.
It took more than four billion
years for man to evolve from the
first primitive molecules and
this time-scale is necessary for
even the most elemental form of
existence to come into being. The
Italo-American Paola Giordano
tries to imagine what an inhabited
universe would be like. Her works
abandon faithful representation
of objective reality to make way
for exploration fuelled by concepts
that have their origin in
the use of found objects, nails,
springs, and drawing pins, all set
against highly gestural painting.
Her radical simplification of form
is reinforced by the violent impact
of the colours she chooses. Black,
white, and red are the three cardinal
colours of the palette on
which she lays down her biological
challenge. From the soil of a
paint-impregnated canvas grow
industrial roses, sometimes given
a more feminine feel by the addition
of fabrics. If ever the space
around us were to give birth to
something living, it would surely
be female, capable of bestowing
gentleness on the rocky magma
that surrounds us.
“There is an invisible force (...) which holds the whole universe together.” (Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, Utet, I, 6, 47) We owe the birth of modern astronomy to a change in thinking. Newton discovered and affirmed Universal Gravitation through a synthesis of celestial and earthly mechanics. After Galileo’s findings, by which the phenomena of the cosmos could be explained thanks to the observations of an inhabitant of the Earth in motion, the English philosopher from Woolsthorpe in Lincolnshire understood that the force that makes objects fall from a height on our planet was the same that kept objects in orbit in space.
Marialuisa Tadei’s work for
the exhibition is dedicated to
Newton’s revolution. Twelve
rings of cast aluminium painted
green, yellow, blue, and red and
suspended from steel wires, create
shadows suggestive of the
trajectory of planets around
their sun. Tadei, a sculptor and
performance artist from Rimini,
usually focuses on installations
that deal with the themes of
faith and human frailty. Here,
she has created an impressive
work that also addresses the
Kantian idea of an infinite progression
of worlds produced
by the primeval nebula, which
then generated our own solar
system with its planets and their
satellites. As the light changes
throughout the day, Satellite
Trajectories asks the skies if ultimately
all the comings and goings
of those objects, wonderfully arranged
in the void, know anything
about us and our restless hearts,
or what our place in the workings
of the heavens is.
“... where light is no longer of a single sort, consequently there are multiple effects; an impression is created.” (Emile Zola, Manifesto of Impressionism, exhibition in Nadar’s studio, Paris 1874) Any living being that possesses eyes is able to see the world thanks to the existence of light. Newton defined light as being matter made of corpuscles, or particles, of different colours but it was subsequently discovered that certain shimmering colours could only be explained by wave theory. Hence the dual nature of light: is it made up of particles or of waves? It depends on the type of phenomenon being observed. The answer to the mystery lies in the photon of quantum mechanics. A ray of light, depending on its intensity, is made up of extraordinary numbers of vibrating electromagnetic waves and the colours we see depend on the speed of the vibrations. The Impressionist painters were the first to make use of the substance of light in their work. What the eye perceives is a visual impression of a mix of colours, but the result varies with the changing times of the day or the seasons.
Katja Bernhard, a classically
trained Austrian artist, experiments
with the Impressionist philosophy
in a contemporary key.
The infinite possibilities afforded
by the use of colours (including
the complementary colours) allow
the surface of her paintings
to become independent of reality and be connected only to the
emotions of the observer. Bernhard’s
work, informal in style
and in use of light, is the product
of deeply personal experiences,
of months spent in isolation in
places of strong bright sunlight
where she observed and virtually
breathed the subjects she would
transfer to her canvas. The result
is a mystical quality of paint
from which stories and passions
emerge.
“I’ve seen things you people
wouldn’t believe, attack ships
on fire off the shoulder of Orion, I
watched the c-beams glitter in the
dark near the Tannhäuser Gates.
All those moments will be lost in
time, like tears in rain. Time to die.”
(Blade Runner, Rutger Hauer/Roy
Batty)
Cyberspace is the domain that uses electronics and the electromagnetic spectrum to store, modify and distribute information by means of computer networks and their physical infrastructure. It is considered to be a virtual dimension that allows all the computers in the world to communicate with each other. This creates a highly imaginative relationship between its users all over the planet. The term cyberspace was coined at the beginning of the 1980s in William Gibson’s cyberpunk science fiction, where he envisaged types of virtual reality that could be shared by users deeply immersed in spaces of the mind.
Marco Bolognesi describes an inhabited future. His photo-shoot sets depict a society precariously poised between race wars and a multimedia culture, where dreams and city-car star ships are parked in shopping malls on artificial satellites. The beautiful faces of models who inhabit this universe wear amulets, jewellery, accessories and make-up that bear witness to the eras, events, situations and paradoxes of human history. The dark and futuristic feel of the works of this photographer and filmmaker from Bologna set the standard for art that looks to the cosmos. It blends the harmony and fear, beauty and imagination, courage and arrogance of our species. Bolognesi’s humandroids are witnesses to something that is yet to happen but they can remember events that are written in the dusts of time. The energy they give off has the power to connect the before and the after of a quantum world, where each particle preserves traces of the past, while what we know of ourselves slips ever further away.
The further the sky moves away from us, the more the universe opens up before our eyes. But will we be able to safeguard tenderness?
We stand before the sky
Anna Caterina Bellati
Venice, Isola d’Oro, March 2015
Translated by Roma O’Flaherty
The NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope has revisited one of its most iconic and popular images: the Eagle Nebula’s Pillars of Creation. This image shows the pillars as seen in visible light, capturing the multi-coloured glow of gas clouds, wispy tendrils of dark cosmic dust, and the rustcoloured elephants’ trunks of the nebula’s famous pillars. The dust and gas in the pillars is seared by the intense radiation from young stars and eroded by strong winds from massive nearby stars. With these new images comes better contrast and a clearer view for astronomers to study how the structure of the pillars is changing over time.
The Hubble
Space Telescope,
at the Frontier
of Science
The Hubble Space Telescope, one of the most ambitious scientific projects ever undertaken. Named in honour of the famous astronomer Edwin Hubble (1889.1953) - responsible for the discovery of the expansion of the Universe - the space telescope was the result of close international collaboration between NASA and ESA. Placed in orbit in 1990 by the Space Shuttle Discovery, Hubble is a telescope with a mirror 2,4 metres in diameter. Hubble’s position above the atmosphere allows it to be observe the Universe at wavelengths not accessible from the surface of our planet, such as the ultraviolet. Its location also places it above the atmospheric turbulence that causes stars to blur and twinkle when observed from the ground, enabling it to obtain strikingly clear images.
Designed in the seventies, Hubble
had very ambitious goals. As the
first in a series of Great Observatories
in space, Hubble was built
to address the most important
questions about the nature of the
Universe. As well as achieving its
original major goals, including addiritmeasuring
the expansion rate of
the Universe, Hubble has gone on
to make major contributions to
almost all topics in astrophysics,
from the nature of galaxies at
very early epochs to the study of
the atmospheres of planets beyond
our Solar System.
Hubble was designed to be maintained,
modernised and repaired
in orbit. To this end, the spacecraft
was constructed to enable
astronauts to access and change
instruments and systems. It was
the first space mission especially
designed and built to be maintained
in situ, 575 km from Earth,
for at least ten years. Handles
placed along the telescope allow
astronauts to grasp the telescope
easily. The various instruments
are modular, removable and
can be located with high precision
in the optical system. A system
of doors gives astronauts
easy access to the interior of the
telescope and the instruments it
houses.
In all, five shuttle servicing missions
have been planned and
executed. Each time, the astronauts
have removed obsolete
or failed instruments, replaced
computers and gyroscopes, and
installed new state-of-the-art
instruments, leaving the telescope
more powerful and technologically
advanced. Measured
in terms of sensitivity to faint
objects and overall throughput,
Hubble is about a hundred times
more powerful now than when it
was first launched.
Discoveries made with the
Hubble Space Telescope over
the last twenty years have profoundly
changed our view of the
Universe. Not only is the Universe
expanding, its expansion is accelerating.
A repulsive force termed
dark energy, whose nature is unknown,
is responsible for this accelerated
motion.
Hubble has also made images
of planets orbiting nearby stars
and shown that exoplanets have
atmospheres whose composition
can be measured, identifying
constituents such as water and
methane. Hubble has pushed
our horizon back to the remote
Universe, observing galaxies that
were born only 600 million years
after the Big Bang. It has continued
to produce stunning images
that have become familiar
icons of modern life, showing
us, through a wealth of detail,
that the Universe is exquisitely
beautiful, but also extremely
complex.
Hubble has not only changed our
understanding of the Universe,
it has changed the way we do
science. It has brought the Universe
into our homes, has inspired
and continues to inspire
many of us to the extent that
it has become “the people’s
telescope”. A science whose results
were only available to a few has
become a resource available to
anybody with the interest to look.
Credit: NASA, ESA / Hubble and the
Hubble Heritage Team
____________________________________
Image: Nome / Name: Eagle Nebula, M 16, Messier 16 Tipo / Type: Via Lattea / Milky Way Nebulosa / Nebula formazione di stelle / Star Formation Distanza / Distance: 7000 anni luce / light years Costellazione / Constellation: Serpens Cauda Credit: NASA, ESA / Hubble and the Hubble Heritage Team
This image shows the pillars as
seen in infrared light, allowing
it to pierce through obscuring
dust and gas and unveil a more
unfamiliar - but just as amazing
- view of the pillars.
In this ethereal view the entire
frame is peppered with bright
stars and baby stars are revealed
being formed within the pillars
themselves. The ghostly outlines
of the pillars seem much more
delicate, and are silhouetted
against an eerie blue haze.