Thousand of warriors with weapons and fears, fighters redeeming their spear and shield. This is the unique mark of Sergio Fermariello’s work that turned abstracted sign and symbolism into a figurative language, transposed in time and space as a mantra, as an iteration, as an obsession.
On the cloister’s XVI century walls the primordial figure of the warrior strive to survive. It regains impetus resambling human origin and his primitive attempt of self rapresentation. He fights against both outside and inside threatens with his weapons of defence and attack.
On the cloister’s frontal side, crossing the stone arches, there are seven works on a wood canvas, tall and thin as a fishbone, in which warriors shade in a range of colours. From blue to orange they create a litmus paper, witness of the time passing from the past to the present, from the ice age to the global warming and acceleration of modernity.
Under the wool dryer a wheat field: 6000 swinging stems, made in brass, are gently driven by a whistle of air as a breath of wind.
On the top of the stems there are as much ears, with its double meaning, recalling van Gogh and his extreme act of ear cutting.
There is a deep and powerful connection, in this ambivalent meaning of the word ear, that use art as a mean to get outside the edges and to achieve a redeeming madness.
The title includes a mute h that adds another meaning: hear. An invitation from the artist to us: listening time and its changing, crossing the darkness and the fury of a pandemy that put humanity in front of a sliding door between life and death, between change and distruction.
On the opposite wall, closing the field of ears, an army cuts the canvas: not just art for art’s sake, but truth and voice to those warriors, now able to speak.
In the exhibition the iconic warrior of Sergio Fermariello, with his spear and shield, comes back more noisy then ever, as a reminder of our roots, our enemies and our goals.