Understanding art means going beyond art itself. It means using the form in which art is revealed to make it the content of our imagination, letting oneself be inspired by the style and the sentiment inscribed in the artist's visual idiom (delicacy, vehemence, ardour, melancholy, serenity) and making pilgramages to places which are similar to the image we have before us, even if not the same. This never means escaping the focus on the work, but is a direction taken by the imagination.
Here the artist is capable of performing a task of passion and intuitive sensitivity. In her oil paintings she plays with shapes, colours and impressions in exactly the way concepts and perceptions ought to be used when making a statement about the world. She lightly draws and crosses over lines, whispers recognizable shapes with only a few patches of colour set side by side with the taste of someone choosing the colours for a costume for the theatre, citing semantic codes that come from her experience in other fields of the arts such as scenography and theatre costumes. Between impressionist flavours and a surreal aura, she offers visions of places that seem to call up their scents and atmospheres; she does not portray what she sees, but touches and resonates the chords of sensations she felt before the spectacle of nature or of humanity, in the city, on the street or in an ideal place of the imagination.
Ad Aigues-Mortes, we are with Sibylle in the skyline of a city suspended over its ethereal reflection, watching from the necessary distance the example of the places we require in our daily lives: streets, buildings, monuments, whether it be Naples or Paris; glimpses and views revealed in their identity through quick spots of colour become one with the impressions the artist has of them, and us with her - however many times in our perceptive experience, sometimes without even stopping to consider their beauty and reflexive scope.
In Bosnia, the faceless pain of a mother holding her child in her arms comes down to us with the anonymity that reveals the pain of a universal condition, when tragedy impends, as in Anguish with that bright red inside and outside the sketched figure.
What surprises us is the particular sense of the drawing of “containment curves” in certain paintings (Violence, Temple of Mithra, Peschici, Trapped), lines which seem to bound something that must be protected and shared but at the same time lines which force and capture. The icon or symbol of desire that has the power to free or to subject, of the dual meaning of the bond with what we love or are loved by, the beauty and anxiety of dependency, the need to have and at the same time to be: to be for others, and to be for oneself.
The dream of a Chimera, of an Ideal city, the vision of a Metamorphosis, the fragrance of Etruscan brush or the enchantment of the Tuscan Countryside are together a flight soaring over everything that is human or dear to humanity, transfigured in art as a subject that exists not merely for the purpose of representation, but to identify the starting point of an interior path. Because art never turns out to be what we expect it to be, but is what we manage to ask when it raises a question in us.