Gianni Politi: Paintings from the Cave
For his second exhibition in Sweden, Paintings from the Cave, currently on view at Gerdman Gallery in Stockholm, Roman artist Gianni Politi presents a body of work created in self-imposed exile. Politi describes a studio practice nurtured in darkness and symbiosis with scorpions, whose venom, he claims, is a necessary catalyst. We spoke with Politi about the necessity of this exile, and why he questions those who choose the comfort of the “condominium.”
Natalia Muntean: “Paintings from the Cave” inverts the idea of the artist in the Ivory Tower. Is this “cave” a physical space, a state of mind, or a philosophical stance for you?
Gianni Politi: My studio looks almost like a cave. A single entrance and a secret exit, but of course, the idea of the cave comes from Plato and his myth. We all start our lives from the cave, and we try to reach the truth, to finally see the sunlight.
NM: Why is a dark, humid cave a better place to make art than a bright, clean studio?
GP: It is better for me. I like the idea of a secluded, secretive studio. A very private place where the struggle of working can be fully embodied in a daily challenge.
NM: You describe the scorpion’s sting as a vital engine for your work. What does this venom represent metaphorically?
GP: For me, the sting of the scorpion is a figurative adrenaline shot. It reminds the artist to be fully focused on his own practice. It is neither painful nor stressful, but it is a condition, a timer, a reminder. The scorpions inhabiting the artist’s studio are his personal alarm clock.
NM: Your large abstracts are born from slashing and cutting existing works, then reassembling them into new “battles.” Can you walk me through this ritual of destruction?
GP: More than a ritual, it is the only way I authorise my painting to exist. I personally find it impossible for me to paint a still image, no difference between abstract and figurative, and these collages of previously painted works have become for me a way of layering material like the floor of a painter’s studio.
NM: You talk about the “struggle of being a contemporary painter.” What is the biggest part of that struggle for you right now?
GP: I cannot paint a single picture and find it interesting, neither for me nor for the world.
NM: You end your statement with a pointed question: “I have always questioned artists who rent a space inside the Ivory Tower condominium.” What do you believe is lost when an artist chooses the “condominium” over the “cave”?
GP: Artists who have chosen the condominium have aligned their routine with a world that doesn’t accept them as an anomaly. They put themselves in a condition that doesn’t really work around them to fully understand them. They may be great artists or still make great art by working in the condominium, but what I think is that in the end, conforming to your own public will be damaging for the work.
NM: What do you hope the audience takes away from Paintings from the Cave? What is the one feeling or idea you hope they leave with?
GP: I made the show for myself. I never intend to leave a message, but I am interested in telling my story, explaining my point of view as an Italian artist working with the medium of painting. A small story, but maybe relatable, maybe a good example or a bad one. I have never made any work with the intention of guiding the viewer anywhere.
