For a long time Luciana Rondolini raised and questioned the value of our cultural icons, fame, idols and why not, people. How and in what way we grant certain schemes and meanings to the image that the fashion and entertainment industry orchestrates maliciously and brilliantly to generate in us a feeling of desire and idolatry.
For this experience the procedures used were two, the need for exploration through the work, moving away from the traditional format, to experiment with matter, and the manipulation of space from a more risky and challenging angle.
On the other hand there is the sense in front of what Luciana creates. The statement lies in reestablishing a criticism towards a greater postulate. What is the sense of the dogmas and the structures that they impose on us? Are they as ephemeral as consumer objects or figures imposed as fashion?
Many times in the face of politics, religions or a Dior advertising we behave the same way. They supposedly protect us and give a framework of safeguard and security, a path to follow, establishing as firm, accurate, and undeniable principles. However, they are manipulative and generate false illusions. When states, institutions or any regulatory entity is empty proclaims foundations and promises that we desperately hope will save us. However, ladies and gentlemen, the most prudent attitude is to understand that at the end of the day, as we move away from the maelstrom, the mandates and the hundreds of stimuli that we did not manage to process, we are alone. This is the time to learn to fend for ourselves, to establish spirituality and be self-conscious.
These last words are reflected in one of the many excerpts that Luciana sent me as a reference, compared to what I thought she wanted to convey with the work she was developing thanks to this new exploration. Going back and forth in front of the decision to put words to an aesthetic and theoretical journey of an artist is not an easy task nor is it always necessary. However, it can be an enriching process that contributes one more layer to the final result, generating the need to investigate inside the works to try to understand what lies behind what springs without stopping from her hands and mind.
Because even though Luciana’s work seems to focus on the surface, abundant, overcluttered and nibbled, it goes much further, being born from the depths of the bowels, from what we do not see and still perceive latent as the end that is looming. The secret is found inside those polished fruits that get rotten, the enduido that descends, the mask that melts, falling by its own weight or the hand created from the accident that desperately seeks to dislodge. It is just a matter of waiting for the truth to break out in front of our faces.
Perhaps then the end will come, one that although you don’t have to wait vehemently, it is gratifying to know that it exists and that the path does not extend towards a meaningless infinity.