This photographic series of upside- down paintings was born from a collaboration with Dario Agazzi, photographer, artist and friend. the upside-down works aim to bring the figure of the worker to the center, by coming into contact with the images, the workers- spectators primarly become the protagonist of the paintings, and they themselves narrate their own story, through the incredible shots taken by Dario.

The liminal series is born in the subtle boundaries between what is real and what feels like a memory. Suspended landscapes where nature becomes a threshold, a transition, a breath. In these paintings, I searched for the exact moment when everything shifts: the light dissolving, the wind holding it's silence, the step before the passage. These images invite you to linger for a moment in that in-between space, where the world is no longer the same... yet not something else just yet.

This reversible painting was born from the image of a clock that doesn't just measure time, it transforms it. every rotation changes not only the hour, but the perspective: what once seemed stable shifts, rearranges itself, reveals a new form. In it's continous movement, time is no longer a line but a fluid perception, bending, tilting, overturning with us. It is an invitation to observe how, with every small rotation, not only the moment changes... but the way we experience it. By flipping the panels of the painting, we realize that what we thought we knew now appears different, and we no longer recognize it so clearly. One hour becomes another, time dissolves in this rotating motion that transforms the meaning of each number. In this continous movement, everything blurs: perception shifts, certainity wavers, and we find ourselves suspended, confused, briefly lost in the unknown.

In the thesis project, the tables become islands, places of encounter and participation. Around them, people can dialogue with strangers, experimenting with forms of relationship that overcome the barriers of uncertainty. The act of "crossing boundaries" between one island and another becomes a metaphor for freedom and transformation: the Island-Tables are not simple objects, but devices that invite change, connection, and sharing.

The Island-Tables are composed of white painted wooden slabs and feature perforated handles that recall strips of land and islets.

In these tables, a recurring element is a ball that people can pass to each other as a way to start a conversation, an almost "ceremonial" object that initiates the game experience.

In designing the tables, the idea was to consider them as "islands," spaces where people can meet, stop, and act together. Each table becomes a place of sharing, an environment in which participation and dialogue transform the object into a collective experience and the individual gesture into social interaction. The table thus becomes the symbol of union, revisited in a "game" form as a connection device around which people meet, get to know each other, and act.

The idea of activating the table as a game-place can lead people to create and co-create something together. The tables are supported by pedestals to which pins are connected, allowing the movement of the wooden slabs. Their shape is inspired by the islands of Ellis Island, Gorzée Island, and Lampedusa. All three share a common denominator: immigration, and therefore borders and their own history. The tables become objects of memory, game, and dialogue, demonstrating that all boundaries can be overcome through cooperation.

They dialogue with each other on the theme of boundaries, limits, and therefore, through the game, one enters a "dimension" where cooperation is necessary to win.

I called the tables islands because they evoke the idea of a journey, capable of breaking and crossing every politically drawn boundary. The boundary of an island is the sea, but the boundary of the sea is its horizon: every limit is only the reflection of one's own horizon, and once the latter is reached, it ceases to exist because it continuously shifts its position and is ephemeral by nature.

The Island-Tables project arose from the reflection on creating a device that could unite people through the practice of play, specifically in the artistic field, when they interacted with each other around the artwork.

An interesting point, which connects to the field of public art concerning play, is the interactivity of the work, which leads the spectator to cross the boundary of untouchability, projecting them into close contact with the object. In this way, visitors have the opportunity to know the work both visually and tangibly, by touching it. The user is no longer a simple observer but an active participant, and this aspect is also included in other works like the Quadri ribaltanti(Reversing Paintings) and the performances executed over the course of these three years.

In the table project, the oscillation introduces an element of risk through imbalance, which creates tension and emotional engagement, transforming an interaction into an experience, by introducing the sense of loss of control. The artwork can only oscillate up and down with two simple movements, and this is enough to make the players help each other guide the ball on the tabletop, as they perceive the instability of the table itself and the difficulty in controlling it.

From 15 to 30 August 2025 in Varallo, at D'Adda palace there was the second exhibition of contemporary arts, I presented two paintings, "it's just a line" and "Mirage".

From May 3 to 7, the Casa dell'Architettura hosted the new edition of the Rebirth Forum, organized in collaboration with Fondazione Pistoletto Cittadellarte, the Order of Architects of Rome, and the Rome Architecture Festival. The event employing the "demopractic" method, featured ten thematic tables with one hundred invited representatives from as many organizations, who gathered over five days, open to the public and enriched by meetings, lectures, and workshops to discuss the future of Rome. 

Highlights included the lecture "Prosperity and Future Generations" by Andrew Percy, the presentation of the educational project "what do young people think?" by Francesco Saverio Teruzzi and Alice Buzzone, a series of banners curated by Fashion B.E.S.T. and the event "state of the Art" which featured a dialogue between Michelangelo Pistoletto, Paolo Naldini (Director of Cittadellarte) and Giorgio de Finis (Artistic Director of the Museum of the Suburbs and IPER Festival).  The Forum edition of IPER-Festival of the Suburbs returned from May 2 to 28, 2025, in the year of the jubilee, focusing once again on Rome and its transformations, those involving the city center as well as its peripheral areas. It was a month rich it activities, involving various locations throughout the city, especially those captable of offering original insights and solutions to the problems afflicting global metropolitan areas, challanges that Rome is preparing to face. The program also included international guests and a number of foreign academies.

In this context from May 3 to 7 the Casa dell'Architettura at Piazza Manfredo Fanti 47 hosted the second edition of the Rebirth Forum Rome, organized in collaboration with Fondazione Pistoletto Cittadellarte, the Order of Architects of Rome and the Rome Architecture Festival. The event included ten thematic tables with one hundred invited representatives from as many organizations (universities, public administrations, associations, professional studios, museums) who came together over five days, open to the public and enriched by meetings by meetings, lectures and workshops, to discuss the future of Rome. 

An artistic and "demopractic" device ( see the "Art of Demopraxy") a method for activating collective intelligence developed by Cittadellarte. in numerous cities around the world through various specific and collaborative projects, the Forum concluded with the drafting of a manifesto and a list of shared objectives of all participants (the construction sites).

Initially inspired by Fontana and his exploration of cuts on the canvas, where he claimed to go beyond it, seeking to reveal the space behind the canvas, a new dimension of art, I also decided to try and see and understand where that "beyond" of the cut on the canvas truly lay. Where was that dimension? How could I reach it? At the same time, I was exploring the emotional and sentimental aspect of "pain" and wanted to try to convey that pain onto paintings, onto canvas. Reflecting on what Fontana had done, I decided to stab the canvas as well. I thought of the metaphor: " Just as a poet uses a pen to convey their emotions to the paper, an artist could do the same with a brush (which in this case became a knife) on the canvas". I left the knife embedded in the canvas and represented that pain by dripping red acrylic where I had left the knife. Once it dried, something led me to want to see the same painting "reversed" or rather, flipped. I realized that if at first, I saw what seemed like "roots" of blood dripping down the canvas, when looking at the work turned upside down, I saw a barren tree, with the knife handle becoming the trunk and what were once roots, now turning into branches. From there, I understood that pain was a transitional moment, that would lead to branching out into many paths in life. I realized that what I was trying to grasp and see in Fontana's work, I had found: the point was not to concretely see another dimension or something similar, but to perceive his vision in a " mental reflection". This did not happen merely by stabbing the canvas, but by understanding that I wanted to express a human emotion on it. This led me, together with Fontana's "beyond", to flip the painting and interpret another narrative: if before there was only pain and death, now from that death (for me, the stub), a new possibility had been born. I believe that Fontana's cut and his " beyond" are embodied in the reversal I witnessed, which brought me to a new vision of the same thing. But even before the canvas with the knife, I always had the feeling of wanting to "find/create" a new dimension in art, if possible, to open a space within space. Thus, at the very beginning, the painting "Fractures" was born, a black canvas bordered by pieces of broken mirror placed around a hole in the canvas that was meant to act as a portal. Once the mirror fragments were applied, I saw my fragmented reality reflected back, as if the canvas/mirror didn't want to show me my everyday reality but something else. Even as I looked at myself in the canvas, I didn't fully recognize myself, and my gaze constantly fell into that circular hole in the center, where light did not reflect. 

On the back of the canvas, I had placed a wooden panel, creating a "box" with the canvas itself, and the panel also had a hole. Yet I still couldn't see this "different" dimension, I was searching for, until one moment, while looking at my reflection in the broken mirror and then gazing at the hole as if it were a sort of keyhole, I understood. I needed to turn the canvas to its back and reflect my distorted image from the "false mirror" onto the "true one", which reflected reality as it is, in its entirety. So, I observed the hole in the back of the canvas, looking toward the "true mirror", and I saw infinity. An endless tunnel that projected my image all the way to where grayness, oblivion, could be seen. I had arrived, I had found that dimension. From there, my thoughts turned to Fontana and his cuts in the canvas, or more precisely, to his so-called " Spatial Concepts" or Attese (Waiting), referencing the fact that his works featured one or more cuts. With those cuts, Lucio Fontana revolutionized art by bringing physical three- dimensionality into painting. 

To delve deeper into Lucio Fontana's work, in 1946, in Buenos Aires, he wrote the " Manifesto Blanco" (White Manifesto), outlining the need to surpass the conception of art as it was understood until then, introducing the dimensions of time and space. This was followed by the "Second Manifesto of Spatialism", marking the start of his work with holes. Fontana's cuts express the desire to go beyond, to go " behind", He doesn't try to represent what might be behind the canvas, he shows it to us by directly cutting it. In this case, the canvas becomes an obstacle in space, for him, behind the canvas lies infinity something that goes beyond the forms artists have represented for centuries.

Personally, I wanted to take those forms that were previously "in front", where the viewer was accustomed to observing them, and that hidden dimension discovered by Fontana, which existed behind the canvas. I realized that if I combined the two parts, I would find an "ultra-form", and for me, that "ultra-form" was the solution of reversal. (What initially appears on the canvas in my reversible paintings is merely an appearance). Continuing the narrative, after creating "Pain" the painting with the knife, and understanding what I needed to do, I began working on the first "static" reversible paintings. These were divided or "cut" by the painting itself into two "scenes" or narratives, one reflecting the other. Technically, to make both reversal scenes readable in the painting, I attached "wall clips" to both long sides of the early works. This allowed the viewer to first observe the top scene, which reflected onto the one beneath, like two pools of water. Then, by detaching the painting from the wall and flipping it over, the lower scene could be positioned upright. 

After creating a certain number of these initial static/reversible paintings (called static because, while they could be turned, they remained in my mind somewhat fixed), also referred to as "of the first type". I reflected on the role of the "audience". The idea that emerged was to bring the audience into closer contact with these types of paintings, not only visually but also tangibly. The audience had to phisically touch the painting, experiencing it not just "abstractly" but concretely. This approach transformed the artwork into something that made viewers active participants rather than passive observers, as is typical with traditional landscape paintings. No matter how visually striking, such works maintain an infinite distance between the viewer and the painting itself. A foundamental aspect that defines the "second type" of reversible paintings is the introduction of dynamism into the artwork. The moment activated by spectators through physical interaction allowed everyone to discover hidden "forms", precisely those forms "behind" the canvas, within Fontana's infinite. I came to see the first type of paintings as a middle ground, that enabled physical contact between the artwork and the viewer, but technically, they were not practical. The issue was that the audience had to continuously remove the painting from the wall and reattach it upside down to interact with it. The second type of reversible paintings incorporated a screw that acts as a "pivot". With the addition of self-locking bolts, this mechanism allows the viewer to rotate the painting directly on the wall without having to detach it. 

Revealing drawings, figures and words, that initially seem nonexistent and are not immediately visible upon first observing the works. through their movement, hearts and phrases are uncovered elements that initially appeared as mere abstract marks as well as "figurative" drawings that once seemed like abstract illusions. Furthermore, by encouraging the audience to actively interact with the artwork, I aimed to "break" the barrier of fear associated with "touching" art, often seen by people as something untouchable. Observing this phenomenon in museums, galleries, and similar spaces, I tought to create works that, in order to be discovered and understood, required the establishment of a physical connection with the viewer, thus breaking that barrier of untouchability. The viewer should not be "excluded" or distanced from the artwork, but should feel, touch and, when possible, even directly enter the work itself. I often see museums, galleries and installations where barriers such as red ropes, security alarms, and even guards are placed between the artworks and the people. Reflecting on these dynamics, I asked myself: if I were to do the same with my works, where would this relationship be? Always and only in the infinite. For me, the distance between myself and static painting (landscapes, portraits, still life, abstracts) is and will always be infinite. I, too, create and have created static paintings that are not fully inclusive for the viewer, but I am aware of this, and from that awareness, I felt the responsability to include rather than exclude. We already live in a world that tends toward exclusion, do you think I want my works to follow this trend? Of course not! Personally, I am someone who, if possible, tends to do the opposite of everything, in the sense that I go against the current, against trends. This "rebellious" aspect led me to a question I asked myself at the very beginning when I was looking for a way to find/create and see a new dimension in art: "How can I see the same thing in multiple different ways" It's a metaphor for life, don't stop at the first appearances, find others in the same ones, and know that they will always remain appearances. Regarding the initial question about the search for this "dimension", which began with Fontana, by simbolically replicating his gesture, I recreated that cut on the canvas. At the same time, while studying at the Unidee Academy at the Pistoletto Foundation, I found great inspiration in being able to see my reflection on the mirrored surfaces of Michelangelo Pistoletto's works. This led me to consider bringing the audience into my works through touch and rotation. 

The first type paintings were thus divided, "cut" simbolically with paint, referencing Fontana's cut. With the advent of the second type rotating works, the cut became a physical, three-dimensional one through the layering of two or more overlapping panels. This "pictorical cut" was born from the fusion of Fontana's cut and the reflection of Pistoletto's mirrored paintings. In the fact, in the first rotating paintings, you can clearly see two scenes that "reflect" one another as the painting is rotated. Regarding dynamism, after initially creating the second-type reversible paintings, I found great inspiration in Marcele Duchamp. This remarkable artist, in 1935, created works titled Rotoreliefs, which were optical and mechanical experiments where Duchamp explored movement, perception, and the fourth dimension through rotating objects. The concept behind these works revolves around the idea that the rotating glass plates or discs represent Duchamp's attempt to challange traditional perception, introducing time and movement as components of art. In doing so, the artist broke away from conventional painting traditions, pushing towards new forms of expression that combined science, technology and art. Duchamp's objects rotate and PLAY with the perception of space and time.

Authority, is a painting with a very simple design, featuring geometric shapes reminiscent of roads that form a cross, a sacred symbol in Catholicism. However, as the viwer rotates this reversible painting, that same cross can also be inverted, shifting from a symbol of sacredness to one associated with darkness and evil in social-religious culture. This transformation highlights that the viewer becomes the authority, deciding what to represent and which symbol to emphasize. It conveys the theme of duality.

This artwork represents two visions or ways of being of the same thing. The two canvases joined together symbolize the plane of existence. The white polyurethane part represents the world we live in: reason, what exist, the common everyday reality that exist because we can see, touch and understand it. On the other side, there is another layer of polyurethane, painted black, which represents all those things we do not know and that are not part of the logical-rational world we live in, but this does not mean they do not exist. At the center of both "masses", there is a hole connecting the two planes, signifying that in both this world and the other, there is a thin thread binding the two planes together. That thread, that space of emptiness, is Art.

The following work was created near the end of 2022, and represents a table-painting, a device that brings together the people interacting with it. This piece was inspired by one of those little games found inside Kinder eggs, where there is a small maze and a ball that must travel from one corner to the center, encountering various walls that block its path. In that case, the player is alone and must guide the ball to the center, winning on their own.

In my work, however, I wanted to remove the "barriers" of the maze walls that defined the ball's path, allowing it a free journey. I also added handles at each corner, where players position themselves and move their bodies, collaborating through their own movements and those of the other players to guide the ball in place, preventing it from falling.

There are no barriers at the edges either if the ball falls off the table, everyone loses together. Conversely, if everyone collaborates and successfully moves the ball to the center, everyone wins. The idea represents the creation of a democratic game where everyone wins together or loses together, and if they lose, no one is more to blame than anyone else. Likewise, if they win, there is no single winner. There is no competition, no "supremacy of the game" in this artist's game. The absence of barriers is significant and indicates that all the movements of all participants are crucial for achieving a unified victory.