Giancarlo Marcali

cm. 130 x 220 each

Installation , digital print on PVC

 

 

The Sheela na Gig (or Sheela-na-Gig) is a series of medieval sculptures representatives naked women who show an exaggerated vulva.

 

They are found in churches, castles and other buildings, especially in Ireland and Britain, sometimes together with statues of male figures.

 

It is said that these sculptures were created for preserving from death and evil. Other figures such as gargoyles and the grotesque are frequently found throughout Europe, especially in churches as protection against devils and evil spirits. There and elsewhere, they are placed above doors and windows, presumably to protect these openings.

"A-24020: Cronaca della rasatura" - 2016 InstallationCm 100 x 100 x 100(...) Forced to undress completely naked, in front of some SS and guards armed with sticks, women with  evil faces and without  any feeling, we were made to lie down on the beds, such as those in medical facilities, and were completely shaven in all parts of the body . These tasks were assigned to some prisoners in a white coat, which served as barbers. By them we heard not a word, but from their silence we supposed that "should" do it. In the latest attempt to defend myself from such physical and moral violence, I shut my legs, trying to cover my breasts with the arms. A Nazi hit me with the rifle barrel and brutally yelled " open your legs and make shave yourself!". At that moment I lost all my dignity and my modesty. (...)  The silence from the livingElisa Springer

Digital print on double lay of pvcCm 140 x 220 x 20Unique edition"I wish we could talk longer,but I'm having an old friend for dinner tonight ..."From "The Silence of the Lambs""I'm hungry. I hunger for you. I want to eat you with love!". The instinct of eating is the instinct of love.It is the insatiability of a desire, of a hunger always on the edge of the dualism between "Eros" and "Thanatos" ... hunger for life and death power. It is, since the origin, a kind of "genetic advantage" that inhabits the human nature and that in terms of evolutionary progress has produced spectacular results ... this hunger has a name, precise and "unspeakable", from which we defend ourselves denying, modifying, ritualizing it ... but his name remains one, and is cannibalism.We humans, at a stage of our evolution, we have been authentic cannibals and we still are ... we do not eat human, no ... our moral as well as our social organization does not allow it, but. .."I love you. I love you enough to eat you!". "I love you in a way so radical and absolute to make you part of me." ... And here we are ready to consume our union, to devour love or just, or even perhaps to cannibalize each others, mentally.Flavia Lanza

Installation on mirror, prints and grafia on PVC and photo engraving on film Cm 50 x 50 x 2 Poetry of Pablo Neruda Ritual of my legs Have long been watching my long legs, with infinite tenderness and curious , with my usualpassion , as if they were the legs of a woman divinedeeply sunk in the abyss of my chest :but is that really, when time , time passes ,on the ground , on the roof over my head impureand passes, time passes, and in my bed do not feelat night a woman breathe, sleep nakedand beside me, then strange, obscure things take placeof ' absent, vicious, melancholy thoughtsopportunity to disseminate the room importune ,and so, then, I look at my legs as ifbelonged to another bodyand were combined with strength and gentleness of my bowels.Similar to the stems or adorable things femininerise up from his knees, cylindrical and boiledwith their troubled and compact material existence: as great, big arms of the goddess,as trees monstrously dressed in human beings,as fatal , huge thirsty lips and quietare at that time the best part of my body :what is quite substantial , without the complicatedcontent or meaning of the trachea or intestines or ganglia :nothing but pure, cylindrical and compact in my life, which preserves life in a comprehensive manner. People travels the world these days, without even remembering to possess a body that haslife, and there is fear in the world, there is fear of the wordsStyling the body and speaks kindly of shoes, of pants you can talk, clothes, and women's underwear (socks and garters' Ladies'), as if the streets were walking clothes and dressescompletely empty and an obscure and obscene wardrobe invaded the world .They exist clothing, color, shape, designa deep space in our myths , too much space, too much furniture and too many rooms there are in the world,and my body lives in (and below) so much dismay,with a fixed idea of slavery and chains.However, my knees, like knots, personal, functional, obviousdivide in half my legs neatly :and , to tell the truth , two different worlds , two different sexesI am not as different as the two halves of my legs. From the knee to the foot form a hard, mineral, coldly useful, it appears,a creature of bone and persistence, and ankles that are not now about the nakedthe accuracy and the need to definitively arranged .Devoid of sensuality, short and hard , and masculine ,here there my legs, with bundles of muscles of animals as complementaryand even there a life, a solid, thin, acute liferesist without trembling, waiting and working. In my ticklish feet, as hard as the sun, open like flowers, and perpetual magnificent soldiers in the war gray space, everything ends, life ends finally in myfeet, what is alien and hostile you start :the names of the world, what's Border and remote substances and attributes that do not contain my heartwith cold, dense consistency therein originate .Increasingly, industrial products, socks, shoes, or simply infinite air, There will be between my feet and the groundleading to excess the isolation and loneliness of mybe something tenaciously assumption between my life andthe earth, something openly and invincible enemy.

Installation of four elements, writing on cardboard and x-rays Cm 25 x 25 x 10 The work of Marcali is both evident of militant civil commitment and sensitivity to the issues which shake the consciousness and an Art that, not content to act as a purely aesthetic occurrence, leads to reflection, to the values. Exciting, engages the better side of the viewer.

Beppe Palomba

 

Siddharta mon amour reports Giancarlo to his early reading of Herman Hesse's masterpiece in which he finds the opportunity to tell about his own artistic evoulution. Four self-portraits made by transcribing in each one the 4 stages of the evolution of Siddharta and his ego consciousness. A self-portrait that tells a story, a journey of life and love.

Installation, boxes mirror, x-rays and images Cm 180 x 37 x 12 "Uomo morente", is a pencil drawing, dated 1941, by the Maestro Luigi Russolo, with which Giancarlo Marcali has a special bond: “ is a "snapshot" of the essence of the moment before death, that death which has so Iong marked my artistic research “.

And from this bond, Giancarlo develops the idea of ​​making himself the dying man, that body, that "place" of tensions and representative of the last minutes of life: the ultimate adrenaline rush , the heart that misplaces the rhythm but still does not stop, blood pressure soars. Then nothing. "Dying Man" (the title is deliberately borrowed from Russolo drawing) is a work full of tension and calm drama: an installation created with x rays layered and the image of Giancarlo’s naked body; a floating body, light, satisfied and serene. A body with its emotional charge offers itself to the viewer as a measure of that moment of great intimacy that is the time of detachment. And in the distance that separates a dying man from the world of the living asks to stay in touch with this experience, without running away. For a chance to meet yourself and others "with an open soul".

 

Installation of two elements, photo engraving on Agfa film Cm 60 x 200 x 20 Faced with the suffering of the world you can get youself back, yes, this is something that you're free to do and that is in accord with your nature, but precisely this step back is the only suffering that perhaps you could avoid

Franz Kafka 

 

San Sebastian was born on the occasion of the exhibition "The body and pain through the ages" at Marsiglione Arts Gallery in Como where the work communicates with an ancient San Sebastiano of '400. The delicate face of the saint going through his martyrdom led him to identify his work to a woman and the passion of pain is revealed by the skeletrum entering in part of the work.

 

Installation, writing on cardboard, nails and Cm 250 x 200 La perte, la douleur, la renaissance… par Tony Fournier Les mots se sont nichés aux confins de la terre et du ciel pour resurgiraujourd’hui, pour me revenir aujourd’hui… suite à ta proposition.Je suis renvoyée à un carrefour de ma vie où j’ai rencontré une douleur, une souffrance,où j’ai croisé avec force un déchirement, où j’ai pénétré l’horreur, où j’ai heurté madouleur, ma souffrance, où j’ai affronté la mort d’un enfant, son suicide et le mal-êtred’un autre, où j’ai vécu l’expérience d’une déchirure. Refaire le parcours en sens inverse, remonter le temps, revivre les événements.Aller de celle que je suis aujourd’hui vers celle que j’étais hier, c’est-à-dire de lathérapeute d’aujourd’hui à la mère d’hier, même si je suis encore une mère. Et ainsi je remonte à la source et c’est un hurlement du fond de moi, de mes tripes quiexplose; De ce lieu où tu as grandi, où tu es né, vient le cri, il a grandi en moi et il estsorti de moi avec larmes comme une source qui jaillit, qui a cherché un chemin pour naîtreà la lumière, exhumer le passé pour permettre à la guérison de se peaufiner Cette mère explosée, incendiée de l’intérieur, s’est lentement consumée, inexorablement dévorée. Comment éteindre ce feu, cette douleur brûlante rongeant lesorganes, desséchant les vaisseaux, laissant les entrailles calcinées, lâchant,abandonnant un espace asséché, creux et noir? Ce choc l’a vidée de toute substancevivante. Il résonne parfois encore aujourd’hui Ce désert, ce no man’s land, cette zone d’incertitude, ce lieu d’un domaine inconnu,comment le rencontrer, comment l’adoucir, comment le reconnaître comme le sien,comment le “rentrer en moi”? Parce que cette mère explosée c’est moi.C’est à travers les larmes que j’ai apprivoisé ce désert, j’ai utilisé la force de meslarmes, l’intensité de mes larmes, la constance de mes larmes, la violence de mes larmes, l’éloquence de mes larmes, le charme de mes larmes et sans doute même la séduction.N’ai-je pas écrit un jour : “Les larmes troublent la vision, quand le “l” semétamorphose, la vision change, quand le “l “ se gonfle et s’envole, s’envole ... la larmedevient une arme, pour se défendre, pour se protéger, contre qui, contre quoi ? peutêtrepour déposer les armes, quand le “l” redescend ...il se retourne, se déroule en “a”et vient s’accrocher devant une larme pour donner l’alarme, quel est le danger, où est ledanger ? peut-être pour sonner l’alarme intérieure ! et quand la larme imite lagrenouille, le “l” s’enfle, s’enfle encore, se déforme, se distord en “ch” et nous voici enprésence du charme.”Et les larmes ont irrigué, transformé, nourri ce vide, ce néant. Ces larmes,toujours présentes, qui m’ont accompagnée depuis mon enfance, font leur oeuvre derestructuration. Ces larmes, omniprésentes, obsédantes même, remodèlent,réorganisent, jusqu’à la métamorphose fondamentale, essentielle. Suis-je allée au bout de mes larmes, suis-je allée au fond de mes larmes? Je suis alléeloin dans mes larmes, je suis allée loin avec mes larmes. Ces larmes que j’aiemmagasinéesdans mon corps depuis l’enfance, ont été libératrices, elles peuvent couler et j’acceptequ’elles soient là pour faire oeuvre de purification.Oh! la métamorphose a été lente, très lente souvent et parfois même stagnante,mais les larmes ont distillé goutte à goutte cette force de vie qui était en moi.À travers ce labeur, cette “remise en forme”, ma terre intérieure a repris vie.

"Doppelgänger" - 2012 Installation, photo engraving on Agfa filmCm 60 x 90 x 20A doppelgänger is a ghostly copy or real (double) of a living person.It is generated by the phobia or the fear of humanity, and is a presence that can not die or disappear for ever.I try to dig into the human being to discover the spiritual side, to pull us out of those that are the most hidden fears but also ties more true.It's about photo engravings on Agfa film and each work consists of two overlapping photos engravings. The image I get is the sum of the two and the transparency of the support leads us in a state of dreaming confusion that makes us lose in this world where real and surreal, true and false, everything is mixed.

Installation, X-rays, glass, steel wire and nylonCm 300 x 200 x 250"Re (e) volution" is a new installation in which my research is focused towards a more spiritual dimension. From a careful analysis of the painful moment that led me to a surgical cut in the moment when everything collapses and dies, I am searching a way to get awayfrom this pain through an intuition.Months ago I came into possession of radiographs of an eagle wounded in Liguria. I was reminded of my installation "The memory of pain" in which I had picked up the X-rays of 33 people who died of cancer to create a unique identity that would represent all of them, and I decided to give the wings of this eagle to my installation.The installation consists of 6 layers of X-rays that at first glance appear uncoordinated but due to a pseudo anamorphic process are recomposed into a single point in space by showing my old installation to take flight.It 'an act of faith towards life. Our pain will heal us, it will soften and take us to find our id

Installation realized with mirror boxes, x-rays and imagesCm 40 x 35 x 12 eachThis is the development of my work "The memory of pain.". I've felt I had to delve more deeply into these bodies dieing and rising to the changements.For this reason I've built some mirror/ boxes that allowed you to see my work with a stronger awareness of my imaginary , when the line that divides our opposite seems confused and at times is giving the way to the charm of illusion.Six magic boxes where, in the first five, I try to dig one layer deeper my awareness with the introduction of organs and muscles, seeking a universal identity, but precise, and with the last one I surrend to sentiment, to the stomach, the blood that cries. finding serenity in my most intimate symbolism.

Polythic of 4 elements, writing on carboard, wood and nailsCm 70 x 50 eachFrom "Revelations of St. Bridget of Sweden" a mother living in a totally carnal way the death of his son. In this text the passion of Christ takes on a meaning turned to the point of the Madonna becoming the loving, earthy character."When I considered the places of the nails in his hands and feet, and as I had heard from the prophets were to be crucified, my eyes filled with tears and my heart almost broke with pain. And as my son saw me crying, he almost died."With this work the search for the painful moment when everything changes in a more universal light that does not necessarily bind to the worship of the Catholic faith, but it reveals the feminine side of a mother who must be present at the 'killing of his son."And everything gdets cold, everything is cold.Seeking a warm sun to stay alive.Only the warm blood of my sondripping on my face.""And everything gets cold" - detail of the work (2011) di Giancarlo Marcali 

The real world puts us every day in front of different realities that affect our ability to constantly perceive things. Our life is a cycle where the growth phase represents the composition of a mosaic up to universal completion of this framework and that, unfortunately, often develops in the illness until death.The testimony of the disease occurs either directly on the body that deteriorates, but also and especially on the perception of the same, at the detachment of the mind from the body. The mind continues its growth as the body begins to die, creating cruel expectations.For these reasons I wanted, through the use of a CAT scan, chasing a memory by finding the most painful moment Through research and assembly of those 30 pieces of skull, 30 slices drenched in grief and love, immersed in the dreaming vision of the glass, you can see a memory, a skull, facial features, a love.

Light installation realized with the use of x-rays Cm 110 x 110 x 240 The pain of a mother, a child's pain, The grief for the loss, the pain of faith, The pain for the inconstancy, The pain of absence, inattention to pain, The pain of death, The pain of old age, physical pain, The pain of incomprehension, pain ignorance, pain diversity, fear of pain, The pain of addiction,The pain of madness, The pain of not feeling, feeling the pain, The pain of Failing this,The pain of incompetence, fear of pain.Radiographs of 33 different people have allowed the realization of this installation.May 2011S (Corpo) Pinacoteca Comunale di Arte Contemporanea Gaeta THE INSTALLATION “THE MEMORY OF PAIN” By Adriana M.Soldini ‹‹How many types of pain are tearing the human being? Infinites, as the abyss of the soul. But they all leave a trace of their passage, a scar, visible or not. Giancarlo has tried to illuminate "The memory of pain" with an installation full of secular sacredness.He picked up radiographs of 33 people who witnessed a trauma and went patiently to compose a skeleton, symbolizing humanity and its suffering. In spite of our differences, has gathered us all by virtue of our common essence, for the matter of which we are made of light, reminding us that despite long distances we have a common origin and that the pain of each has the right to be expressed. He made the ultimate gesture of " pietas" and protected the body inside a glass case as a relic. In addition to plates, he used iron and glass materials, looking cold and antiseptic. The majesty of the work is breathtaking and the charm that emanates almost inspires fear.Yet the poetry is so decadent that is touching in the deep. And the mind runs to imagine the personal stories printed on plastic sheets coated with silver nitrate which form the collective memory of a pain.›› (Adriana M. Soldini)