Giuseppe Gabellone

An enormous purple cotton carpet greets visitors as they enter the first of two rooms of Giuseppe Gabellone’s current exhibition. The expansive floor covering, Grande Viola, 2012, stretches throughout the space and commands respect, making it difficult for one to overcome an onset of embarrassment when left with no choice but to tread upon it. Alternatively, the ratio of walking room to covered floor could persuade one to go barefoot, allowing for other senses like touch to grasp the nonvisual properties of the velvety exterior and its acrylic stuffing. Also in this room, three epoxy resin pieces are installed on the surrounding walls and act as steady anchors to the consuming presence of the amorphous work below them. Featuring swirling letters, Irò, irò, irò, Mister Mother, and Proteggi Giuseppe, all 2012, seem to signify their onomatopoeic potential rather than any applicable literal meaning.

To the right of the first room, two arched passageways lead to another space where a second carpet has been placed. Verde Acido, 2012, though similar in texture and size, is here slung over a wall as if thrown over a shoulder, with most of its neon green material spilling onto the ground. Additionally, two untitled sculptures from 2013 have been installed on the wall that separates the gallery’s rooms. The first work is a bronze slab that appears as dry as the crust of a darkened loaf of bread; the second, made of aluminum, undulates in ripples that liken the shimmery texture to sea waves. Both appear to be the result of Gabellone’s analysis of the unexpressed potential of each variant material, the matte bronze as organic and the iridescent aluminum as optical. It seems that this exhibition addresses media and their inherent qualities, and more specifically their ability to translate space as well as the experience of the inhabiting viewer.

Translated from Italian by Marguerite Shore.