Zakamoto's Children Should Never Go to Sleep
"A boy climbs up a tree, scrambles among the branches, passes from one plant to another, decides he will never come down again." The literary world created by Italo Calvino with "The Baron in the Trees" can be set alongside the artistic world of Akira Zakamoto, alias Luca Motolese. This boy who takes refuge in the trees becomes a hero of disobedience, an allegory of the poet and his suspended way of being in the world.
Likewise, Zakamoto tells of children who have already lifted their little feet from the ground, for fear of being contaminated by reality, and who, like angels, let themselves be carried by the breath of life that pushes them powerfully toward the universe. In "Invisible Cities," Calvino tells of a visionary traveller who describes imaginary cities outside time and space, and Zakamoto paints them on square canvases. During a lecture in New York (1983), the writer insistently spoke of the destruction of the natural environment and the fragility of great technological systems that can produce chain failures, paralysing entire metropolises; in parallel, Zakamoto, through his portraits, flees the looming catastrophe and dreams.
The children born from the artist's hand, through their creativity, forget the daily injustices, find the strength to begin again and redeem their condition and ours, even turning into superheroes, explorers, demigods and creators of worlds. Their gaze is charismatic, pure power, vitality; there is nothing frail about it — it is strength mixed with tenderness. The little messengers possess a magnetic, prophetic expressiveness; they convey to us their inability to understand the adult way of life. Only they will be able to redeem humanity from the errors committed, and for this reason they hold the globe in their fist and, indifferent, play with planets and stars. It is not a harsh critique of society, but rather a cynical and ironic — perhaps desperate — acknowledgement of the homologation of the real and of the impossibility of change on the part of adults. Zakamoto's portraits allow us to reflect on the world we live in, on our greyness and on the heaviness of being adults, making us meditate on how we used to be, on the energy and zest for life we possessed, on how, free of worries, we could fly lightly above the cities. Zakamoto flees the "here and now" toward the evocation of the childhood world, yet remains rooted in the present, calling us to become aware of what is happening and to know how to react. Through the "Flag of the Future" project, the artist wants to share this hope of change with those who desire it.
We hope that the banner, having set off from the Bottega Indaco in Turin, will pass beyond the "Pillars of Hercules" and halt its course only when exhausted and satisfied. In Zakamoto's painting everything is overturned, and it seems absurd that the childhood world could re-educate grown-ups, by now disoriented. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia). Like Virgil, Motolese is a utopian and foresees the arrival of a mysterious child, a puer who will bring a new golden age; like Hesiod he conceives his subjects "as gods who passed their lives with minds free of anguish, far off, beyond toil and misery; nor did wretched old age loom over them […] all beautiful things were theirs." (Works and Days) The artist warns us to rediscover the child within us and to keep it intact despite the passing years, recalling that literary vein in which authors wish to become children again to give free rein to their imagination. Swift, for example, in "Gulliver's Travels," recounts journeys among strange peoples, combining fantasy with a fierce critique of the society of his time, becoming a pretext to mock the judicial system, the mechanisms of power or warmongering politics. Like Gulliver, Zakamoto's subjects, unable to bear the reality of injustice and limitation in which they live, embark on a ship of hope and are shipwrecked on unknown lands. The artist, like the writer, feels shame for the brutalities committed by humankind! Likewise, Zakamoto, with his visionary poetics and his ability to play even in adulthood, connects to Barrie's novel: Peter Pan, the flying boy who refuses to grow up, spending an adventurous, endless childhood in Neverland.
Children, therefore, are the very essence of Zakamoto's art; they are pure art. Let us not forget that art is play, fantasy, the ability to communicate, surprise, deceive — and so the artist could not have chosen a more fitting subject to stir the soul! One may speak of nostalgia for an innocent and happy childhood, for an Eden no longer possible to create on Earth; so why not create it elsewhere, for example with a brushstroke dipped in rainbow? Like Matisse, he offers an emotional, vitalistic vision in which figures and objects are not investigated but felt and harmoniously juxtaposed according to chromatic relationships: everything takes part in the joy of living. He is far from the tragedy and despair of the real, though aware of it; yet he finds shelter in a lyrical, carefree dimension: it is pure utopia, an estrangement from the real in search of better worlds, a luminous smile. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia) Zakamoto's paintings have a festive, playful aspect, between the dreamlike, the hallucinated and the visionary; his striking images fix themselves indelibly in the mind, with hypnotic, captivating gazes, drawing the viewer's attention like a successful piece of advertising graphics. The painter lays colour on thickly and flat, exaggerating the use of pure, saturated tones like the Fauves.
He rediscovers the expressive value of colour, renouncing mixing and gradations, seeking only combinations that work. His unnatural, acidic chromatic excess reminds me of a handful of sweets or confetti dropped on a canvas. He rejects classical spatiality; the figures are suspended in a fantastic, metaphysical eternity. Through the computer he simplifies and synthesises photographic images, evoking Andy Warhol and the Roman pop school, in particular Tano Festa, in the reworking of subjects as advertising images. One senses the stylistic influence of pop art, of comics, of the cartoons so loved by Roy Lichtenstein, of the allure of Japanese manga, and I would even venture of Jacques Monory.
In the latest period, his style is heading toward a new, more marked gesturality and materiality, thanks also to the introduction of softer pastels. As Picasso said: "Drawing is a way of writing stories," and Zakamoto has truly grasped the meaning of these words, since even his biography is a fairy tale: it begins with "Once upon a time there was a child abducted by aliens" and ends with "the angel-children and superheroes rediscovered the essence of life, gave grown-ups back the desire to live, and they all lived happily ever after." One must have a child's eyes to grasp the essence of the world, and Zakamoto's painting shows us that there are happy worlds in which humanity will be redeemed and happy — we need only keep their vision even as we grow up. "Children should never go to sleep; they wake up a day older." (James Matthew Barrie)
Likewise, Zakamoto tells of children who have already lifted their little feet from the ground, for fear of being contaminated by reality, and who, like angels, let themselves be carried by the breath of life that pushes them powerfully toward the universe. In "Invisible Cities," Calvino tells of a visionary traveller who describes imaginary cities outside time and space, and Zakamoto paints them on square canvases. During a lecture in New York (1983), the writer insistently spoke of the destruction of the natural environment and the fragility of great technological systems that can produce chain failures, paralysing entire metropolises; in parallel, Zakamoto, through his portraits, flees the looming catastrophe and dreams.
The children born from the artist's hand, through their creativity, forget the daily injustices, find the strength to begin again and redeem their condition and ours, even turning into superheroes, explorers, demigods and creators of worlds. Their gaze is charismatic, pure power, vitality; there is nothing frail about it — it is strength mixed with tenderness. The little messengers possess a magnetic, prophetic expressiveness; they convey to us their inability to understand the adult way of life. Only they will be able to redeem humanity from the errors committed, and for this reason they hold the globe in their fist and, indifferent, play with planets and stars. It is not a harsh critique of society, but rather a cynical and ironic — perhaps desperate — acknowledgement of the homologation of the real and of the impossibility of change on the part of adults. Zakamoto's portraits allow us to reflect on the world we live in, on our greyness and on the heaviness of being adults, making us meditate on how we used to be, on the energy and zest for life we possessed, on how, free of worries, we could fly lightly above the cities. Zakamoto flees the "here and now" toward the evocation of the childhood world, yet remains rooted in the present, calling us to become aware of what is happening and to know how to react. Through the "Flag of the Future" project, the artist wants to share this hope of change with those who desire it.
We hope that the banner, having set off from the Bottega Indaco in Turin, will pass beyond the "Pillars of Hercules" and halt its course only when exhausted and satisfied. In Zakamoto's painting everything is overturned, and it seems absurd that the childhood world could re-educate grown-ups, by now disoriented. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia). Like Virgil, Motolese is a utopian and foresees the arrival of a mysterious child, a puer who will bring a new golden age; like Hesiod he conceives his subjects "as gods who passed their lives with minds free of anguish, far off, beyond toil and misery; nor did wretched old age loom over them […] all beautiful things were theirs." (Works and Days) The artist warns us to rediscover the child within us and to keep it intact despite the passing years, recalling that literary vein in which authors wish to become children again to give free rein to their imagination. Swift, for example, in "Gulliver's Travels," recounts journeys among strange peoples, combining fantasy with a fierce critique of the society of his time, becoming a pretext to mock the judicial system, the mechanisms of power or warmongering politics. Like Gulliver, Zakamoto's subjects, unable to bear the reality of injustice and limitation in which they live, embark on a ship of hope and are shipwrecked on unknown lands. The artist, like the writer, feels shame for the brutalities committed by humankind! Likewise, Zakamoto, with his visionary poetics and his ability to play even in adulthood, connects to Barrie's novel: Peter Pan, the flying boy who refuses to grow up, spending an adventurous, endless childhood in Neverland.
Children, therefore, are the very essence of Zakamoto's art; they are pure art. Let us not forget that art is play, fantasy, the ability to communicate, surprise, deceive — and so the artist could not have chosen a more fitting subject to stir the soul! One may speak of nostalgia for an innocent and happy childhood, for an Eden no longer possible to create on Earth; so why not create it elsewhere, for example with a brushstroke dipped in rainbow? Like Matisse, he offers an emotional, vitalistic vision in which figures and objects are not investigated but felt and harmoniously juxtaposed according to chromatic relationships: everything takes part in the joy of living. He is far from the tragedy and despair of the real, though aware of it; yet he finds shelter in a lyrical, carefree dimension: it is pure utopia, an estrangement from the real in search of better worlds, a luminous smile. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia) Zakamoto's paintings have a festive, playful aspect, between the dreamlike, the hallucinated and the visionary; his striking images fix themselves indelibly in the mind, with hypnotic, captivating gazes, drawing the viewer's attention like a successful piece of advertising graphics. The painter lays colour on thickly and flat, exaggerating the use of pure, saturated tones like the Fauves.
He rediscovers the expressive value of colour, renouncing mixing and gradations, seeking only combinations that work. His unnatural, acidic chromatic excess reminds me of a handful of sweets or confetti dropped on a canvas. He rejects classical spatiality; the figures are suspended in a fantastic, metaphysical eternity. Through the computer he simplifies and synthesises photographic images, evoking Andy Warhol and the Roman pop school, in particular Tano Festa, in the reworking of subjects as advertising images. One senses the stylistic influence of pop art, of comics, of the cartoons so loved by Roy Lichtenstein, of the allure of Japanese manga, and I would even venture of Jacques Monory.
In the latest period, his style is heading toward a new, more marked gesturality and materiality, thanks also to the introduction of softer pastels. As Picasso said: "Drawing is a way of writing stories," and Zakamoto has truly grasped the meaning of these words, since even his biography is a fairy tale: it begins with "Once upon a time there was a child abducted by aliens" and ends with "the angel-children and superheroes rediscovered the essence of life, gave grown-ups back the desire to live, and they all lived happily ever after." One must have a child's eyes to grasp the essence of the world, and Zakamoto's painting shows us that there are happy worlds in which humanity will be redeemed and happy — we need only keep their vision even as we grow up. "Children should never go to sleep; they wake up a day older." (James Matthew Barrie)
"Un ragazzo sale su di un albero, si arrampica tra i rami, passa da una pianta all'altra, decide che non scenderà mai più". Il mondo letterario creato da Italo Calvino con "Il Barone Rampante" è accostabile a quello artistico di Akira Zakamoto alias Luca Motolese. Questo fanciullo che si rifugia sugli alberi, diventa un eroe della disobbedienza, un'allegoria del poeta e del suo modo sospeso di essere al mondo.
Analogamente, Zakamoto, racconta di bambini che hanno già sollevato i piedini dal suolo, per paura di essere contaminati dalla realtà e come angeli si lasciano trasportare dall'alito della vita che li spinge con potenza verso l'universo. Nelle "Città invisibili", Calvino narra di un viaggiatore visionario che descrive città immaginarie fuori dal tempo e dallo spazio e Zakamoto li dipinge su tele quadrate. Lo scrittore durante una conferenza tenuta a New York (1983), parlò con insistenza della distruzione dell'ambiente naturale e della fragilità dei grandi sistemi tecnologici che possono produrre guasti a catena, paralizzando metropoli intere; parallelamente Zakamoto, attraverso i suoi ritratti fugge dalla catastrofe incombente e sogna.
I fanciulli nati dalla mano dell'artista, attraverso la loro creatività , dimenticano le quotidiane ingiustizie, trovano la forza di ricominciare e riscattano la loro e la nostra condizione, trasformandosi persino in supereroi, esploratori, semidei e creatori di mondi. Il loro sguardo è carismatico, è pura potenza, vitalità , non ha nulla di gracile, è forza mista a tenerezza. I piccoli messaggeri possiedono un'espressività magnetica e profetica, ci comunicano la loro incomprensibilità del modo di vivere degli adulti. Solo loro potranno redimere l'umanità dagli errori commessi e per questo motivo tengono in pugno il globo terrestre ed indifferenti giocano con i pianeti e le stelle. Non si tratta di un'aspra critica alla società , quasi piuttosto di una cinica ed ironica, forse disperata presa d'atto dell'omologazione del reale e dell'impossibilità di un cambiamento da parte degli adulti. I ritratti di Zakamoto ci permettono di riflettere sul mondo in cui viviamo, sul nostro grigiore e sulla pesantezza di essere adulti, facendoci meditare su come eravamo, l'energia e voglia di vivere che possedevamo, come senza preoccupazioni potevamo volare leggeri sopra le città . Zakamoto fugge dal "qui ed ora" verso la rievocazione del mondo infantile, ma rimane radicato nel presente, chiamando a prendere coscienza di quello che accade ed a saper reagire. L'artista, per mezzo del progetto "Bandiera del futuro", vuole condividere questa speranza del cambiamento, con coloro che lo desiderano.
Ci auguriamo che il drappo partito dalla Bottega Indaco di Torino, oltrepassi le "Colonne d'Ercole" e arresti il suo percorso solo quando sarà stremato e soddisfatto. Nella pittura di Zakamoto, tutto si ribalta e pare assurdo che il mondo infantile possa rieducare i grandi, ormai disorientati. "Solo a coloro che possiedono, con innocenza, il sorriso è dato di evocare l'utopia." (Sergio Moravia). Come Virgilio, Motolese è un'utopista e prevede l'arrivo di un misterioso fanciullo, puer che porterà una nuova età dell'oro; come Esiodo concepisce i suoi soggetti "come dèi che passavan la vita con l'animo sgombro da angosce, lontani, fuori dalle fatiche e dalla miseria; né la misera vecchiaia incombeva su loro […] tutte le cose belle essi avevano." (Le opere e i giorni) L'artista ci ammonisce a ritrovare il bimbo che è in noi ed a conservarlo integro nonostante il trascorrere degli anni e ravvisando quel filone letterario in cui gli autori desiderano ritornare fanciulli per dare libero corso alla loro immaginazione. Per esempio Swift nei "Viaggi di Gulliver" fa il resoconto di alcune viaggi presso strani popoli, coniugando fantasia e feroce critica alla società del tempo, diventando pretesto per irridere il sistema giudiziario, i meccanismi del potere o la politica bellicista. Come Gulliver, i soggetti di Zakamoto, poiché non riescono a supportare la realtà di ingiustizie e limitazioni in cui vivono, si imbarcano su una nave della speranza e naufragano su terre sconosciute. L'artista come lo scrittore prova vergogna per le brutalità commesse dal genere umano! Ugualmente, Zakamoto, con la propria poetica visionaria e per la capacità di saper giocare anche in età adulta, si ricollega al romanzo di Barrie: Peter Pan, il bambino volante che rifiuta di crescere, trascorrendo un'avventurosa infanzia senza fine sull'Isola che non c'è.
Dunque, i bambini sono l'essenza stessa dell'arte di Zakamoto, sono arte pura. Non dimentichiamo che l'arte è gioco, è fantasia, è capacità di comunicare, sorprenderci, ingannarci e dunque l'artista non avrebbe potuto scegliere soggetto più adeguato per smuovere l'animo! Si può parlare di nostalgia di un'infanzia innocente e felice, di un Eden che sulla Terra non è più possibile creare, allora perché non realizzarlo altrove, per esempio con un colpo di pennello intinto di arcobaleno? Similmente a Matisse, ripropone una visione emozionale e vitalistica, in cui figure ed oggetti non vengono indagati, ma sentiti e accostati armoniosamente secondo rapporti cromatici: ogni cosa partecipa alla gioia di vivere. àˆ lontano dalla tragicità e dalla disperazione del reale, benché ne sia consapevole, tuttavia trova riparo in una dimensione lirica e spensierata: è pura utopia, straniamento dal reale alla ricerca di mondi migliori, è luminoso sorriso. "Solo a coloro che possiedono, con innocenza, il sorriso è dato di evocare l'utopia." (Sergio Moravia) I quadri di Zakamoto hanno un aspetto festoso, ludico, tra l'onirico, allucinato e visionario; le sue vistose immagini si fissano nella mente in maniera indelebile, con sguardi ipnotici e accattivanti, attraggono l'attenzione dello spettatore come una grafica pubblicitaria riuscita. Il pittore stende il colore in modo carico e piatto, esaspera l'uso di toni puri e saturi come i fauves.
Ritrova il valore espressivo della cromia, rinunciando alla mistione e alle sfumature, cercando solo accostamenti funzionanti. Il suo eccesso cromatico innaturale e acido mi ricorda un pugno di caramelle o di coriandoli lasciati cadere su una tela. Rifiuta la spazialità classica, le figure sono sospese nell'eternità fantastica e metafisica. Attraverso il computer, semplifica e sintetizza le immagine fotografiche rievocando Andy Warhol e la scuola pop romana, in particolare Tano Festa, per la riproposizione di soggetti come immagini pubblicitarie. Si percepisce l'influenza stilistica della pop art, dei fumetti, dei cartoons tanto amati da Roy Lichtenstein, dal fascino del manga giapponese e azzarderei pure di Jacque Monory.
Nell'ultimo periodo, il suo modo stilistico si sta dirigendo verso una nuova gestualità e matericità più marcata, grazie anche all'introduzione di pastelli più morbidi. Come diceva Picasso: "Disegnare è un modo per scrivere storie." e Zakamoto ha proprio colto il significato di queste parole in quanto persino la sua biografia è una favola: inizia con "C'era una volta un bambino rapito dagli alieni" e si conclude con "i bambini angeli e supereroi riscoprirono l'essenza della vita, ridiedero voglia di vivere ai grandi e vissero tutti felici e contenti". Bisogna avere gli occhi dei bambini per cogliere l'essenza del mondo e la pittura di Zakamoto ci indicano che esistono mondi felici in cui l'umanità sarà redenta e felice, bisogna solo mantenere la loro visione anche crescendo. I bambini non dovrebbero mai andare a dormire; si svegliano più vecchi di un giorno." (James Matthew Barrie)
Analogamente, Zakamoto, racconta di bambini che hanno già sollevato i piedini dal suolo, per paura di essere contaminati dalla realtà e come angeli si lasciano trasportare dall'alito della vita che li spinge con potenza verso l'universo. Nelle "Città invisibili", Calvino narra di un viaggiatore visionario che descrive città immaginarie fuori dal tempo e dallo spazio e Zakamoto li dipinge su tele quadrate. Lo scrittore durante una conferenza tenuta a New York (1983), parlò con insistenza della distruzione dell'ambiente naturale e della fragilità dei grandi sistemi tecnologici che possono produrre guasti a catena, paralizzando metropoli intere; parallelamente Zakamoto, attraverso i suoi ritratti fugge dalla catastrofe incombente e sogna.
I fanciulli nati dalla mano dell'artista, attraverso la loro creatività , dimenticano le quotidiane ingiustizie, trovano la forza di ricominciare e riscattano la loro e la nostra condizione, trasformandosi persino in supereroi, esploratori, semidei e creatori di mondi. Il loro sguardo è carismatico, è pura potenza, vitalità , non ha nulla di gracile, è forza mista a tenerezza. I piccoli messaggeri possiedono un'espressività magnetica e profetica, ci comunicano la loro incomprensibilità del modo di vivere degli adulti. Solo loro potranno redimere l'umanità dagli errori commessi e per questo motivo tengono in pugno il globo terrestre ed indifferenti giocano con i pianeti e le stelle. Non si tratta di un'aspra critica alla società , quasi piuttosto di una cinica ed ironica, forse disperata presa d'atto dell'omologazione del reale e dell'impossibilità di un cambiamento da parte degli adulti. I ritratti di Zakamoto ci permettono di riflettere sul mondo in cui viviamo, sul nostro grigiore e sulla pesantezza di essere adulti, facendoci meditare su come eravamo, l'energia e voglia di vivere che possedevamo, come senza preoccupazioni potevamo volare leggeri sopra le città . Zakamoto fugge dal "qui ed ora" verso la rievocazione del mondo infantile, ma rimane radicato nel presente, chiamando a prendere coscienza di quello che accade ed a saper reagire. L'artista, per mezzo del progetto "Bandiera del futuro", vuole condividere questa speranza del cambiamento, con coloro che lo desiderano.
Ci auguriamo che il drappo partito dalla Bottega Indaco di Torino, oltrepassi le "Colonne d'Ercole" e arresti il suo percorso solo quando sarà stremato e soddisfatto. Nella pittura di Zakamoto, tutto si ribalta e pare assurdo che il mondo infantile possa rieducare i grandi, ormai disorientati. "Solo a coloro che possiedono, con innocenza, il sorriso è dato di evocare l'utopia." (Sergio Moravia). Come Virgilio, Motolese è un'utopista e prevede l'arrivo di un misterioso fanciullo, puer che porterà una nuova età dell'oro; come Esiodo concepisce i suoi soggetti "come dèi che passavan la vita con l'animo sgombro da angosce, lontani, fuori dalle fatiche e dalla miseria; né la misera vecchiaia incombeva su loro […] tutte le cose belle essi avevano." (Le opere e i giorni) L'artista ci ammonisce a ritrovare il bimbo che è in noi ed a conservarlo integro nonostante il trascorrere degli anni e ravvisando quel filone letterario in cui gli autori desiderano ritornare fanciulli per dare libero corso alla loro immaginazione. Per esempio Swift nei "Viaggi di Gulliver" fa il resoconto di alcune viaggi presso strani popoli, coniugando fantasia e feroce critica alla società del tempo, diventando pretesto per irridere il sistema giudiziario, i meccanismi del potere o la politica bellicista. Come Gulliver, i soggetti di Zakamoto, poiché non riescono a supportare la realtà di ingiustizie e limitazioni in cui vivono, si imbarcano su una nave della speranza e naufragano su terre sconosciute. L'artista come lo scrittore prova vergogna per le brutalità commesse dal genere umano! Ugualmente, Zakamoto, con la propria poetica visionaria e per la capacità di saper giocare anche in età adulta, si ricollega al romanzo di Barrie: Peter Pan, il bambino volante che rifiuta di crescere, trascorrendo un'avventurosa infanzia senza fine sull'Isola che non c'è.
Dunque, i bambini sono l'essenza stessa dell'arte di Zakamoto, sono arte pura. Non dimentichiamo che l'arte è gioco, è fantasia, è capacità di comunicare, sorprenderci, ingannarci e dunque l'artista non avrebbe potuto scegliere soggetto più adeguato per smuovere l'animo! Si può parlare di nostalgia di un'infanzia innocente e felice, di un Eden che sulla Terra non è più possibile creare, allora perché non realizzarlo altrove, per esempio con un colpo di pennello intinto di arcobaleno? Similmente a Matisse, ripropone una visione emozionale e vitalistica, in cui figure ed oggetti non vengono indagati, ma sentiti e accostati armoniosamente secondo rapporti cromatici: ogni cosa partecipa alla gioia di vivere. àˆ lontano dalla tragicità e dalla disperazione del reale, benché ne sia consapevole, tuttavia trova riparo in una dimensione lirica e spensierata: è pura utopia, straniamento dal reale alla ricerca di mondi migliori, è luminoso sorriso. "Solo a coloro che possiedono, con innocenza, il sorriso è dato di evocare l'utopia." (Sergio Moravia) I quadri di Zakamoto hanno un aspetto festoso, ludico, tra l'onirico, allucinato e visionario; le sue vistose immagini si fissano nella mente in maniera indelebile, con sguardi ipnotici e accattivanti, attraggono l'attenzione dello spettatore come una grafica pubblicitaria riuscita. Il pittore stende il colore in modo carico e piatto, esaspera l'uso di toni puri e saturi come i fauves.
Ritrova il valore espressivo della cromia, rinunciando alla mistione e alle sfumature, cercando solo accostamenti funzionanti. Il suo eccesso cromatico innaturale e acido mi ricorda un pugno di caramelle o di coriandoli lasciati cadere su una tela. Rifiuta la spazialità classica, le figure sono sospese nell'eternità fantastica e metafisica. Attraverso il computer, semplifica e sintetizza le immagine fotografiche rievocando Andy Warhol e la scuola pop romana, in particolare Tano Festa, per la riproposizione di soggetti come immagini pubblicitarie. Si percepisce l'influenza stilistica della pop art, dei fumetti, dei cartoons tanto amati da Roy Lichtenstein, dal fascino del manga giapponese e azzarderei pure di Jacque Monory.
Nell'ultimo periodo, il suo modo stilistico si sta dirigendo verso una nuova gestualità e matericità più marcata, grazie anche all'introduzione di pastelli più morbidi. Come diceva Picasso: "Disegnare è un modo per scrivere storie." e Zakamoto ha proprio colto il significato di queste parole in quanto persino la sua biografia è una favola: inizia con "C'era una volta un bambino rapito dagli alieni" e si conclude con "i bambini angeli e supereroi riscoprirono l'essenza della vita, ridiedero voglia di vivere ai grandi e vissero tutti felici e contenti". Bisogna avere gli occhi dei bambini per cogliere l'essenza del mondo e la pittura di Zakamoto ci indicano che esistono mondi felici in cui l'umanità sarà redenta e felice, bisogna solo mantenere la loro visione anche crescendo. I bambini non dovrebbero mai andare a dormire; si svegliano più vecchi di un giorno." (James Matthew Barrie)
"A boy climbs up a tree, scrambles among the branches, passes from one plant to another, decides he will never come down again." The literary world created by Italo Calvino with "The Baron in the Trees" can be set alongside the artistic world of Akira Zakamoto, alias Luca Motolese. This boy who takes refuge in the trees becomes a hero of disobedience, an allegory of the poet and his suspended way of being in the world.
Likewise, Zakamoto tells of children who have already lifted their little feet from the ground, for fear of being contaminated by reality, and who, like angels, let themselves be carried by the breath of life that pushes them powerfully toward the universe. In "Invisible Cities," Calvino tells of a visionary traveller who describes imaginary cities outside time and space, and Zakamoto paints them on square canvases. During a lecture in New York (1983), the writer insistently spoke of the destruction of the natural environment and the fragility of great technological systems that can produce chain failures, paralysing entire metropolises; in parallel, Zakamoto, through his portraits, flees the looming catastrophe and dreams.
The children born from the artist's hand, through their creativity, forget the daily injustices, find the strength to begin again and redeem their condition and ours, even turning into superheroes, explorers, demigods and creators of worlds. Their gaze is charismatic, pure power, vitality; there is nothing frail about it — it is strength mixed with tenderness. The little messengers possess a magnetic, prophetic expressiveness; they convey to us their inability to understand the adult way of life. Only they will be able to redeem humanity from the errors committed, and for this reason they hold the globe in their fist and, indifferent, play with planets and stars. It is not a harsh critique of society, but rather a cynical and ironic — perhaps desperate — acknowledgement of the homologation of the real and of the impossibility of change on the part of adults. Zakamoto's portraits allow us to reflect on the world we live in, on our greyness and on the heaviness of being adults, making us meditate on how we used to be, on the energy and zest for life we possessed, on how, free of worries, we could fly lightly above the cities. Zakamoto flees the "here and now" toward the evocation of the childhood world, yet remains rooted in the present, calling us to become aware of what is happening and to know how to react. Through the "Flag of the Future" project, the artist wants to share this hope of change with those who desire it.
We hope that the banner, having set off from the Bottega Indaco in Turin, will pass beyond the "Pillars of Hercules" and halt its course only when exhausted and satisfied. In Zakamoto's painting everything is overturned, and it seems absurd that the childhood world could re-educate grown-ups, by now disoriented. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia). Like Virgil, Motolese is a utopian and foresees the arrival of a mysterious child, a puer who will bring a new golden age; like Hesiod he conceives his subjects "as gods who passed their lives with minds free of anguish, far off, beyond toil and misery; nor did wretched old age loom over them […] all beautiful things were theirs." (Works and Days) The artist warns us to rediscover the child within us and to keep it intact despite the passing years, recalling that literary vein in which authors wish to become children again to give free rein to their imagination. Swift, for example, in "Gulliver's Travels," recounts journeys among strange peoples, combining fantasy with a fierce critique of the society of his time, becoming a pretext to mock the judicial system, the mechanisms of power or warmongering politics. Like Gulliver, Zakamoto's subjects, unable to bear the reality of injustice and limitation in which they live, embark on a ship of hope and are shipwrecked on unknown lands. The artist, like the writer, feels shame for the brutalities committed by humankind! Likewise, Zakamoto, with his visionary poetics and his ability to play even in adulthood, connects to Barrie's novel: Peter Pan, the flying boy who refuses to grow up, spending an adventurous, endless childhood in Neverland.
Children, therefore, are the very essence of Zakamoto's art; they are pure art. Let us not forget that art is play, fantasy, the ability to communicate, surprise, deceive — and so the artist could not have chosen a more fitting subject to stir the soul! One may speak of nostalgia for an innocent and happy childhood, for an Eden no longer possible to create on Earth; so why not create it elsewhere, for example with a brushstroke dipped in rainbow? Like Matisse, he offers an emotional, vitalistic vision in which figures and objects are not investigated but felt and harmoniously juxtaposed according to chromatic relationships: everything takes part in the joy of living. He is far from the tragedy and despair of the real, though aware of it; yet he finds shelter in a lyrical, carefree dimension: it is pure utopia, an estrangement from the real in search of better worlds, a luminous smile. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia) Zakamoto's paintings have a festive, playful aspect, between the dreamlike, the hallucinated and the visionary; his striking images fix themselves indelibly in the mind, with hypnotic, captivating gazes, drawing the viewer's attention like a successful piece of advertising graphics. The painter lays colour on thickly and flat, exaggerating the use of pure, saturated tones like the Fauves.
He rediscovers the expressive value of colour, renouncing mixing and gradations, seeking only combinations that work. His unnatural, acidic chromatic excess reminds me of a handful of sweets or confetti dropped on a canvas. He rejects classical spatiality; the figures are suspended in a fantastic, metaphysical eternity. Through the computer he simplifies and synthesises photographic images, evoking Andy Warhol and the Roman pop school, in particular Tano Festa, in the reworking of subjects as advertising images. One senses the stylistic influence of pop art, of comics, of the cartoons so loved by Roy Lichtenstein, of the allure of Japanese manga, and I would even venture of Jacques Monory.
In the latest period, his style is heading toward a new, more marked gesturality and materiality, thanks also to the introduction of softer pastels. As Picasso said: "Drawing is a way of writing stories," and Zakamoto has truly grasped the meaning of these words, since even his biography is a fairy tale: it begins with "Once upon a time there was a child abducted by aliens" and ends with "the angel-children and superheroes rediscovered the essence of life, gave grown-ups back the desire to live, and they all lived happily ever after." One must have a child's eyes to grasp the essence of the world, and Zakamoto's painting shows us that there are happy worlds in which humanity will be redeemed and happy — we need only keep their vision even as we grow up. "Children should never go to sleep; they wake up a day older." (James Matthew Barrie)
Likewise, Zakamoto tells of children who have already lifted their little feet from the ground, for fear of being contaminated by reality, and who, like angels, let themselves be carried by the breath of life that pushes them powerfully toward the universe. In "Invisible Cities," Calvino tells of a visionary traveller who describes imaginary cities outside time and space, and Zakamoto paints them on square canvases. During a lecture in New York (1983), the writer insistently spoke of the destruction of the natural environment and the fragility of great technological systems that can produce chain failures, paralysing entire metropolises; in parallel, Zakamoto, through his portraits, flees the looming catastrophe and dreams.
The children born from the artist's hand, through their creativity, forget the daily injustices, find the strength to begin again and redeem their condition and ours, even turning into superheroes, explorers, demigods and creators of worlds. Their gaze is charismatic, pure power, vitality; there is nothing frail about it — it is strength mixed with tenderness. The little messengers possess a magnetic, prophetic expressiveness; they convey to us their inability to understand the adult way of life. Only they will be able to redeem humanity from the errors committed, and for this reason they hold the globe in their fist and, indifferent, play with planets and stars. It is not a harsh critique of society, but rather a cynical and ironic — perhaps desperate — acknowledgement of the homologation of the real and of the impossibility of change on the part of adults. Zakamoto's portraits allow us to reflect on the world we live in, on our greyness and on the heaviness of being adults, making us meditate on how we used to be, on the energy and zest for life we possessed, on how, free of worries, we could fly lightly above the cities. Zakamoto flees the "here and now" toward the evocation of the childhood world, yet remains rooted in the present, calling us to become aware of what is happening and to know how to react. Through the "Flag of the Future" project, the artist wants to share this hope of change with those who desire it.
We hope that the banner, having set off from the Bottega Indaco in Turin, will pass beyond the "Pillars of Hercules" and halt its course only when exhausted and satisfied. In Zakamoto's painting everything is overturned, and it seems absurd that the childhood world could re-educate grown-ups, by now disoriented. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia). Like Virgil, Motolese is a utopian and foresees the arrival of a mysterious child, a puer who will bring a new golden age; like Hesiod he conceives his subjects "as gods who passed their lives with minds free of anguish, far off, beyond toil and misery; nor did wretched old age loom over them […] all beautiful things were theirs." (Works and Days) The artist warns us to rediscover the child within us and to keep it intact despite the passing years, recalling that literary vein in which authors wish to become children again to give free rein to their imagination. Swift, for example, in "Gulliver's Travels," recounts journeys among strange peoples, combining fantasy with a fierce critique of the society of his time, becoming a pretext to mock the judicial system, the mechanisms of power or warmongering politics. Like Gulliver, Zakamoto's subjects, unable to bear the reality of injustice and limitation in which they live, embark on a ship of hope and are shipwrecked on unknown lands. The artist, like the writer, feels shame for the brutalities committed by humankind! Likewise, Zakamoto, with his visionary poetics and his ability to play even in adulthood, connects to Barrie's novel: Peter Pan, the flying boy who refuses to grow up, spending an adventurous, endless childhood in Neverland.
Children, therefore, are the very essence of Zakamoto's art; they are pure art. Let us not forget that art is play, fantasy, the ability to communicate, surprise, deceive — and so the artist could not have chosen a more fitting subject to stir the soul! One may speak of nostalgia for an innocent and happy childhood, for an Eden no longer possible to create on Earth; so why not create it elsewhere, for example with a brushstroke dipped in rainbow? Like Matisse, he offers an emotional, vitalistic vision in which figures and objects are not investigated but felt and harmoniously juxtaposed according to chromatic relationships: everything takes part in the joy of living. He is far from the tragedy and despair of the real, though aware of it; yet he finds shelter in a lyrical, carefree dimension: it is pure utopia, an estrangement from the real in search of better worlds, a luminous smile. "Only to those who possess, with innocence, the smile is it given to evoke utopia." (Sergio Moravia) Zakamoto's paintings have a festive, playful aspect, between the dreamlike, the hallucinated and the visionary; his striking images fix themselves indelibly in the mind, with hypnotic, captivating gazes, drawing the viewer's attention like a successful piece of advertising graphics. The painter lays colour on thickly and flat, exaggerating the use of pure, saturated tones like the Fauves.
He rediscovers the expressive value of colour, renouncing mixing and gradations, seeking only combinations that work. His unnatural, acidic chromatic excess reminds me of a handful of sweets or confetti dropped on a canvas. He rejects classical spatiality; the figures are suspended in a fantastic, metaphysical eternity. Through the computer he simplifies and synthesises photographic images, evoking Andy Warhol and the Roman pop school, in particular Tano Festa, in the reworking of subjects as advertising images. One senses the stylistic influence of pop art, of comics, of the cartoons so loved by Roy Lichtenstein, of the allure of Japanese manga, and I would even venture of Jacques Monory.
In the latest period, his style is heading toward a new, more marked gesturality and materiality, thanks also to the introduction of softer pastels. As Picasso said: "Drawing is a way of writing stories," and Zakamoto has truly grasped the meaning of these words, since even his biography is a fairy tale: it begins with "Once upon a time there was a child abducted by aliens" and ends with "the angel-children and superheroes rediscovered the essence of life, gave grown-ups back the desire to live, and they all lived happily ever after." One must have a child's eyes to grasp the essence of the world, and Zakamoto's painting shows us that there are happy worlds in which humanity will be redeemed and happy — we need only keep their vision even as we grow up. "Children should never go to sleep; they wake up a day older." (James Matthew Barrie)