WOMEN WAITING
... as I went ahead with my research a particular character emerged; the woman, crouched on the beach waiting, full of hope. She is spiritually, but also perhaps physically waiting for her husband, her brother or some person dear her to return and something spiritually worthwhile is about to happen. Perhaps in some way we are all waiting for something better and that's why this theme becomes so profound and interesting for me. It's become emblematic and therefore now tends to reappear in all of my canvases.
(Mario Lupo – Teleregione interview 1989)
Similarly, I am returning to 'chiarismo'. The other day, I tackled a large canvas and drew women waiting, on the beach, with little red bunches of flowers, held outstretched: an offering to the seagulls. And the colour? White. From the sky to the sea, to women's dresses, to seagulls, of course. And I entitled this painting: 'Gli angeli del mare' (Angels of the Sea). And how did it happen? I think it happened because it had to; because nothing I have done from the beginning until this period, can be erased. Rather, it has matured. Because, perhaps, when I was painting in a 'chiarista' style, I had not yet acquired the craft and culture, let's say, to give full expression, full force to what I wanted to offer. However, today I am returning to 'chiarismo', strengthened by all my experiences during this challenging journey. And the painting reflects the 'chiarista' period with a different power. No more light spatula strokes that looked as if a breath of wind would suffice to blow them away. The colour is still light. It is white, but there is an inner strength in the structure of the figures. And I think this is important because it has an underlying meaning. Perhaps I am essentially a 'chiarista', and my various attempts have led me to different experiences, until finally painting with pure colours. Today, if I return to 'chiarismo', maybe it is because I have an uncontrolled and uncontrollable inner need. And that' s good.
(Mario Lupo, from the book 'Story Of Life, Story Of Painting')
WOMEN WAITING
... as I went ahead with my research a particular character emerged; the woman, crouched on the beach waiting, full of hope. She is spiritually, but also perhaps physically waiting for her husband, her brother or some person dear her to return and something spiritually worthwhile is about to happen. Perhaps in some way we are all waiting for something better and that's why this theme becomes so profound and interesting for me. It's become emblematic and therefore now tends to reappear in all of my canvases.
(Mario Lupo – Teleregione interview 1989)
Similarly, I am returning to 'chiarismo'. The other day, I tackled a large canvas and drew women waiting, on the beach, with little red bunches of flowers, held outstretched: an offering to the seagulls. And the colour? White. From the sky to the sea, to women's dresses, to seagulls, of course. And I entitled this painting: 'Gli angeli del mare' (Angels of the Sea). And how did it happen? I think it happened because it had to; because nothing I have done from the beginning until this period, can be erased. Rather, it has matured. Because, perhaps, when I was painting in a 'chiarista' style, I had not yet acquired the craft and culture, let's say, to give full expression, full force to what I wanted to offer. However, today I am returning to 'chiarismo', strengthened by all my experiences during this challenging journey. And the painting reflects the 'chiarista' period with a different power. No more light spatula strokes that looked as if a breath of wind would suffice to blow them away. The colour is still light. It is white, but there is an inner strength in the structure of the figures. And I think this is important because it has an underlying meaning. Perhaps I am essentially a 'chiarista', and my various attempts have led me to different experiences, until finally painting with pure colours. Today, if I return to 'chiarismo', maybe it is because I have an uncontrolled and uncontrollable inner need. And that' s good.
(Mario Lupo, from the book 'Story Of Life, Story Of Painting')