Giorgio Verzotti

  • View of “Armando Andrade Tudela and Daniel Steegmann Mangranè,” 2021. Photo: Andrea Rossetti.

    Armando Andrade Tudela and Daniel Steegmann Mangranè

    Armando Andrade Tudela and Daniel Steegmann Mangranè’s response to an invitation by Alessandra and Francesca Minini to exhibit together in their Milan space was a show whose title, “Voler leggere la schiuma” (Wanting to Read the Foam), alludes to a line by Peruvian poet César Vallejo, whose poem “Intensity and Height” (1937) opens, “I want to write, but froth comes out.” The two artists, who share an interest in natural morphologies and their connection to artistic creation, set up a series of relationships, between one work and another and between the works and the space, arriving at what can

  • View of “Leiko Ikemura: Before Thunder, After Dark,” 2021.
    picks November 16, 2021

    Leiko Ikemura

    Japanese Swiss artist Leiko Ikemura is exhibiting for the first time in Italy with a selection of works, curated by Frank Boehm, covering roughly forty years of her activity and installed over the gallery’s four floors. Viewers first encounter a pair of large, gloomy paintings, completed in 2017. Together, the two very similar nocturnal landscapes of mountains surrounding deep indigo lakes (or are they volcanic craters?) give the show its title: “Before Thunder, After Dark.” Following this opening salvo are several drawings from the early ’80s, as well as a large untitled pastel from the same

  • View of “Dancing30,” 2021.
    picks June 22, 2021

    Kings

    This gallery stands at number thirty-two on a street where there is no thirty. Inspired by this infrastructural slippage, the duo known as Kings have transformed the address into Dancing30, announced by a neon sign at the building’s entrance. Detourning the space into a phantom nightclub, the artists, Daniele Innamorato and Federica Perazzoli, evoke those glittering days of disco, or simply dancing, as we called it when we were young. As with any good discotheque, the show mixes high and low: Kings have recycled imagery from the books Max Ernst used for his collage novel Semaine de Bonté (1934),

  • Enrico David, Il fraterno silenzio del fango (The Fraternal Silence of Mud), 2020, acrylic on canvas, 9' 1 1⁄2" × 14' 8".

    Enrico David

    For his first exhibition at Gió Marconi, Enrico David exhibited exclusively paintings and drawings, after having participated in the 2019 Venice Biennale with a focus on sculpture. Between the two shows, the London-based artist seemed to have decided to offer his home country a complete sampling of his most recent production. This show’s title, “Cielo di giugno” (June Sky), suggested a naturalistic subject, but what awaited viewers were phenomena of an oneiric world: nature, yes, but transfigured. Even the press release really wasn’t one, almost functioning instead as a brief prose poem.

    The

  • Franco Vimercati, Esposizioni multiple (Multiple Exposures), 1999/2020, five gelatin silver prints, each 12 × 9 5⁄8".

    Franco Vimercati

    Franco Vimercati (1940–2001) was the artist with whom Raffaella Cortese opened her gallery in 1995. This show, “Un minuto” (One Minute), accompanied by a book full of illuminating essays and interviews, was curated by Marco Scotini, who emphasized the most rigorously Conceptual aspect of Vimercati’s work. If the term Conceptual designates an analysis of the specific language of an expressive medium, no definition better suits Vimercati and his inquiry into the nature of photography. His photographs—frontal shots of everyday objects, exclusively in black and white, most often grouped in ensembles—are

  • Enzo Mari and Lea Vergine. Photos: Leonardo Cendamo/Getty Images.
    passages November 18, 2020

    Enzo Mari and Lea Vergine (1937–2020, 1932–2020)

    I SAW THEM FOR THE LAST TIME a few months before the lockdown. I went over to give Lea a copy of my book on Mario Merz, which she wanted as a gift, and with a dedication. They weren’t well. Enzo was still suffering the aftereffects of an operation on his head necessitated by a fall from a ladder on which he was trying to prune some wisteria on the terrace; Lea, by contrast, had “blundered,” resulting in a nasty sunburn on her legs. Daily life had betrayed them, in short. I left their beautiful Milanese home in a state of sadness at the fact that such two strong personalities, two leaders in

  • Tomoo Gokita, Regina #2, 2020, acrylic on canvas, 76 3/8 × 63 3/4".

    Tomoo Gokita

    For the inaugural solo exhibition in Massimo de Carlo’s new space on the first floor of Milan’s magnificent Casa Corbellini-Wassermann, built in 1936 by architect Piero Portaluppi, Japanese artist Tomoo Gokita for the first time presented an exhibition of paintings in which color dominates, attributing the change to boredom after years of working almost exclusively in black and white. The works for which he is best known are based on images—often sourced from pornography, comics, or wrestling magazines—that the artist skillfully distorts or partially erases to create abstract compositions that

  • Mario Schifano, Qualcos’altro (Something Else), 1962, enamel on paper on canvas, 791⁄4 × 90 3⁄4".

    Mario Schifano

    Qualcos’altro (Something Else), a gray enamel monochrome from 1962, lent its title to this exhibition dedicated to Mario Schifano’s monochrome period, from 1960 to 1962, when the young artist (1934–1998) first came to international attention. The catalogue was in newspaper format, featuring an essay by the show’s curator, Alberto Salvadori, and Riccardo Venturi. Most of the variously sized works on paper and on paper mounted on canvas featured in the exhibition still belong to Giorgio Marconi, father of the gallerist Gió Marconi. Viewers were able to once again admire, alongside other pieces,

  • Olu Oguibe, Composition with Blue, Red and Yellow, 2019, mixed media, dimensions variable.

    Olu Oguibe

    The works in Olu Oguibe’s “Cuba Project,” 2019, which developed out of a visit to a steelworks in Matanzas, Cuba, in February 2019, were made mainly out of discarded metal elements left over from the factory’s manufacturing process. In this exhibition, the artist presented them as he found them, without any modifications, albeit in carefully calculated groupings that suggested he has a scholar’s taxonomic instincts. It was not by chance that his introduction to the show was a display case, Untitled (all works 2019), filled with small rusty objects, salvage on a miniature scale, which he also

  • View of “Cesare Pietroiusti,” 2019–20.

    Cesare Pietroiusti

    This is a strange sort of retrospective. “Un certo numero di cose” (A Certain Number of Things) covers the whole span of Cesare Pietroiusti’s life so far, with one of the titular “things” for every year from his birth in 1955 up through 2019, when the show opened. Thus the exhibition, curated by Lorenzo Balbi with Sabrina Samorì, includes items related to the artist’s childhood and adolescence: report cards, family photographs, letters to Santa Claus, everyday objects. Pietroiusti’s intention was to include works—if that’s what they are—of indeterminate status, suspended between art and non-art,

  • Gerold Miller, instant vision 156, 2019, lacquered aluminum, 110 1⁄4 × 110 1⁄4 × 5 7⁄8".

    Gerold Miller

    Gerold Miller’s work can be interpreted as existing within a continuous tension between object and space, within a relationship where the artist’s sculptures or wall pieces literally open up to the space that hosts them and deconstructs it. This show featured works in which the space actively breaks the unity of the surface, including examples from several of the thematic series the German artist has been producing for more than a decade. While Miller’s conceptual point of departure is painting, he subjects the fundamental two-dimensional code of pictorial expressiveness to a sort of genetic

  • View of “Roman Opałka,” 2019. From left: Détail 1896176–1916613; Détail 1916614–1940089; Détail 1940090–1965011, all works undated.

    Roman Opalka

    Like its now-closed opening chapter in Milan, the Venice installment of this extensive exhibition—which remains on view through November 24—features a selection from Roman Opałka’s famous series “OPALKA 1965/1–∞,” 1965–2011, along with earlier works that have rarely or never been seen in Italy. The show hinges on the decisive date of 1965, when, making a commitment that he would stick with until his death in 2011, the artist decided to devote himself to canvases bearing consecutive sequences of diminutive white painted numbers, from one to (theoretically) infinity, which he presented alongside