At the beginning of the year, Milanese passing by the Contemporary Art Pavilion on Via Palestro (where Metal Panic, a solo exhibition by Marcello Maloberti curated by Diego Sileo, was on view) saw a large mechanical arm lifting the word “sky,” but upside down, written in neon. It was Cielo (‘Sky’, a work from 2022, shown at the Bangkok Biennale that year). Maloberti, born in 1966, is a multifaceted artist: he writes sentences and aphorisms in marker, imagines (and makes) performances, and puts a content of poetry and déplacement in everything he does. For some time now, he has been having his writings done in neon, always white. He wanted to light up the ceilings of his house. The furniture and objects, few in number, are pieces by Achille Castiglioni, Enzo Mari, Gae Aulenti. On the floor a few lamps, always by authors, such as Mangiarotti’s Lari.
Good morning, Marcello. Maybe you don’t know, but during the next Salone del Mobile.Milano there will also be Euroluce, an event dedicated precisely to light. I wanted to talk about it with someone who is not a designer or an industrialist. Maybe an artist?
Thank you, what a nice idea. I like the sculptural value of light, especially in my work dedicated to the word. One does not think that light can have that, instead it is the thing that fascinates me the most. There is of course its immaterial aspect, but I like it when it becomes more physical. One of my works, Circus, is a large installation made out of a market marquee from which three hundred mirrors are hung, which in the evening are illuminated by the headlights of cars parked around it and become a kind of disco ball. It is the light, which creates life within this large installation, which has a sculptural dimension. And then for me it is always a little bit linked to the idea of magic. Compared to the word, again, there is a physical dimension: the neon tube. Which is never seen as something flat but three-dimensional. For me, light has its own volume, that’s it.
Can you tell me something about your writings/signs?
I work a lot with handwriting, not just my own. We worked with Liliana Segre at the Shoah Memorial, both outside and inside. There are two sentences written in her handwriting. It is like the work of four hands. They both refer to her memory of looking at the sky, at the stars, during her internment. A handhold of hope. I like the idea of the handwriting, because it’s a drawing that becomes more sculptural, like in the PAC, where you could walk around these sentences, always written by me, and see them from behind. Like a kind of curtain. Lately the word inhabits me more. We are inhabited by the voice, by the word. The light also brings me back to the idea of classicism, an idea that interests me a lot. Maybe when I turn on the light, I turn on a day, the future, the moment.
And, trivially, at the level of the object?
I don’t really like chandeliers. I don’t know why, but I prefer floor or table lamps.
That’s why you have neon lights in your house. When did you start writing your “martellate” (hammer blows)?
For an artist, the first form of writing is to give a title, to give a voice to a work. Mine have always been a bit specific: The Vertigo of Mrs. Emilia, The Destruction of a Morning. They are contracted narratives, almost like oracles. In class, my students have said to me, Eh, but you should write down the things you tell us, because these sentences come to me a little out of the blue. I like the idea of the fragment in the writing, of these sentences that say and don’t say, that are almost clues.
Talking about objects reminds me of some of your performances in which a group of boys and girls destroyed panthers.
That work was born out of giving form through destruction, so I break an object to create a different kind of form, a fragment, a ruin. Something that is considered finished, and I destroy it to make it unfinished. These were performances that lasted only a minute. I did one at the Macro in Rome where I smashed 25 specially made panthers. I like the idea of the fragment because maybe I’m a little bit of a warrior.
Trivia question, since we are in Design Week: What is your ideal home?
You should have at least several houses, come on! I want a house in the city, a house in the country, a house by the beach, a house in the mountains. And maybe one abroad. With very few objects, very little furniture, and lots of light. The one by the sea could be Villa Malaparte, in Capri. The one in the mountains would be Brutalist. And abroad, I would like Lisbon. It has a light that is almost annoying when you walk.
Credits
All photos courtesy the artist, Fondazione Memmo – Rome, PAC, Padiglione d’arte Contemporanea – Milan, Memoriale della Shoah of Milan and Galleria Raffaella Cortese, Milan – Albisola.
