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Remo
Bianco. The Singularity of an Artist
It has been written that the "imprints" began in the early fifties, or even in '48. But here a precision is necessary. In one of the artist's diary notes dated May 15, 1948, we can read: "I am painting with a new system: I spread color on the objects and print them on the canvas, I even use my fingers." As you can see, we are dealing with a procedure that is quite different from that of the plaster casts, which should be placed later on, towards the mid-fifties, at the time of the manifest of "Imprint Art." Later on Bianco himself was to claim: "In 1956... I went back to the imprint investigation, when I could avail of plastic materials, materials that were appropriate for being poured in those plaster shapes and thus for being reproduced. I dreamed of entire walls covered with these imprints. These casts can be of anything, even the most commonplace, humble objects that surround us: it is a kind of `recovery's of these objects. Before discussing in more detail what these imprints/casts are, we should recall a methodological stance. We should not confuse poetic ideas and inventions, of which Bianco was a mine (or, if we want to stick to a geological metaphor, a volcano), with their material execution, which often came about later on. Besides, we should say to begin, I am persuaded that part of the reason for the unsatisfactory appreciation of Bianco's work on the present artistic scene, is owing, equally, to the implausible nature of certain dates.They are philologically approximate dates, based on later evidence, that end up by having the opposite effect than was sought, and that is by obliterating the propulsive role Bianco actually had, in later days (days that however are still early, even if they are postdated by several years). But let
us come to the Impronte (imprints). The small, delightful plaster
panels, that grip as in a vice trinkets of every form and kind,
odds and ends ranging from dollhouses, furnishings for little
girls pretending to be grown-up ladies, and little boys dreaming
of being knights, are compositions in which the recovery of
the object is perfectly achieved. They are caskets of memory,
metaphysical attics, where various things seek and find shelter:
small horses from the playroom, trees from the cowboys' ranch,
balls and marbles, mirrors of the cruel Queen who asks it who
is the most Beautiful in the Kingdom, lightbulbs, deck chairs,
pipes, coffee pots... Bianco sought
a perpetual condition of childhood and practiced his own personal
primitivism: a primitivism sui generis (we might call it an
objectal primitivism), full of traits of courtesy, graciousness,
expressive delicacy. The kindness of his soul, that fragile,
vulnerable psychology, capable perhaps of desperate deeds, but
singularly suave and generous, that all those who knew him are
unanimous in claiming, was expressed in these cheerful works,
midway between play and memory. But what
do these works mean? In 1956 Bianco published the Manifest of
Imprint Art, that we should produce here in full. So the artist
wrote: "The art of the future is placed under the sign
of the IMPRINT. An IMPRINT is everything that remains impressed
in our subconscious. IMPRINT of society itself, insofar as it
is an image of all those conditionings the essence of life implies.
So I claim that man cannot avoid being imprinted by a society
that is in constant mutation and is always surrounding us with
new things. To escape the things that are not always desirable,
man has to master them, creating an imprint that is no longer
the object but a something more in comformity with his nature.
All this requires a different means of expression that takes
all these assumptions into consideration. I claim that my imprints
are a universal documentation that will catalogue all the things
that have been in touch with me through a reality re-dimensioned
of the present truth. I claim that in a near future men will
make imprints in order to possess the reality that is around
them." It was necessary
to make this long quotation, not just because Remo Bianco's
writings are little known, but also because this manifest, despite
several involved and cryptic expressions, clearly explains the
atmosphere, the expressive horizon which was Bianco's when he
created the Impronte. To catalogue
all those things that had been in touch with him: that was the
artist's aim. It is an aim, as you can see, that is closer to
a Borges dictionary or a Proustian madeleine, than to assumptions
of pop art. Bianco had in mind a universal primer, yet where
the protagonist was always man, or rather he himself. His research
was autobiographical, in which the things that were imprinted
on his skin, in his soul, surfaced captured in the surface of
the plaster. And again
we listen to the artist: "I made imprints/casts in plaster
(I was interested in gathering imprints made by cars, for instance),
and this research thus became a kind of cataloguing of events,
facts and things. I remember the people who were intrigued when
they saw me appear with a bag of plaster, I looked exactly like
a policeman making an investigation and taking imprints on the
pavement, on the sidewalk." We shall
come back to the imprints. But we observe that these works came
about in a fervid atmosphere of thought of developments for
art, not merely Italian. As explained Miklos Varga, who had
a long friendship with Bianco and wrote some powerful pages
about him: "And along the lines of this existentialist
notion there began to make headway, even if with other motivations,
the fingerprints of Piero Manzoni in 1960, the 1960-62 body
casts of Antonio Recalcati, whereas Yves Klein, still in 1960
came into the limelight with his spectacular naturométries,
imprints of female bodies, sprinkled with blue on the white
canvas. At the same
time as the Impronte, and nearly specular to them (the first
ones executed "by removing," the second "by putting")
are the Sacchetti, or, as Bianco called them, the Testimonianze,
begun after 1955. The latter are precisely small plastic bags
lined up in rows, and which contain small, negligible objects. Again the
artist writes: "The Sacchetti too, the pictures with countless
suspended small cellophane bags, belong to the imprint period.
These small bags are approximately dated '56, but I kept on
doing them, because sometimes I felt the need to continue...
These bags are made of a material (it might just as well be
ante povera) that has been discarded, thrown away, found in
the trash or in drawers of destroyed or not destroyed objects,
but old anyway and having a very poetic appearance, and gathered
in small bags: they are all those objects we forget about and
that have scarce value: seashells, pebbles, medals, coins, stamps,
even cigarette butts, broken dolls, a pipe, a toy, especially
tin toys and so on... What was I resolved to do when I began
making this kind of picture, hanging little bags full of objects,
scraps, onto the canvas? You immediately think of Christo's
`wrapped' packages, Arman's 'accumulations,' which actually
had nothing to do with them, quite the opposite, at the time
I didn't even know about them." As can be
seen, in Bianco's attitude there was an emotional, sentimental
implication (although not sentimentalist). His conceptual operations
were not philosophical syllogisms, they did not conceal a purely
theoretic attitude, nor even less cerebral. They were, indeed,
affective experiences, precisely of someone who was heedful
of the most modest and vanquished reality, and wanted to revaluate
it. "I like the loser, but when it wins it's spoiled,"
the artist said." Playing
with memory, retaining the fleeting past, paying attention to
what in life is held to be the least important: there was also
that implication, which you might call ethical, in Bianco's
work. The artist
goes on: "I wanted to rebuild part of my life, nearly all
these objects were mine, had belonged to me, to my childhood.
Then I connected this problem to others, rebuilding through
these objects the person's life, telling exactly what had happened
in the meeting with others in one day: for instance of a little
girl, who had given me her doll: we broke the doll and went
to find her father. Her father was a turner, and from that meeting
we kept a bit of leftovers from the lathe, that was put in another
bag. Along the way we found some cigarette butts and they were
put in another bag, and then an old newspaper, that we burned,
and the ashes were put in another bag. The girl's mother too
had given us some things she had found in a drawer. So we rebuilt,
the little girl and I, a day we had shared in a particular way." The distance
between ego and expression, between gesture and sign, is even
easier to discern in the Collages, the works Bianco began on
his return from New York. What are
these Collages? They are "directing" works, because
they consist in the very informal and "Pollock-style"
canvases which Bianco subdivided in geometric tarsias and put
back together again. As we already
said, the instinctive violence, the vital energy, the pathos
of Pollock's works could not become a part of our Milanese painter's
expressive registers. Instead Bianco felt the need to modulate
his gesture, to transform Pollock's cosmic scream into a light,
amused rhythm. He then started cutting up the canvases painted
in the Action Painting manner, reducing them to small squares,
and thus composed large collages, breaking up the unity of the
picture into a kaleidoscope of details. Seemingly
they were the same pictures as before, rebuilt in another "assemblage."
But in reality the operation was exactly the opposite. By recomposing
his pictures of signs according to a regular geometry, Bianco
distanced himself from informal art and went back to an art
of spatial rhythm and organization. The uniqueness
and the instinctiveness of the gesture were replaced by the
countability of the single modules, the repeatability and thus
seriality (although filled with different signs) of the mosaic
tesserae; the tangle of lines was replaced by the broken segment,
which was no longer a skein, but a single line. The work now
presupposed a different scrutiny, an analysis and a choice of
the single fragments. Whereas informal art was becoming a catch-all
language, whose common denominator was immediacy of the gesture,
passion of the scream, immersion in matter, Bianco undertook
what we can already define as a conceptual attitude. Adriano
Altamira writes: "With these works Remo Bianco, aside from
stating that informal art was dead, soon after the mid-fifties,
invented his checkerboard system that was to remain the set
grid of nearly his entire important pictorial production of
the following years: the Tableaux dorés and the Sacchettini.
A grid that not by coincidence resumed everything in a conceptual
formula that for instance had an echo, although with even more
lucidity, in the work of Piero Manzoni." But let
us listen to how the artist himself recalled this moment: "Between
'55 and '59, I did this experiment of the collages (and would
pursue it a number of times in the future). I would cut up the
painted canvas in so many little squares and keep the parts
that interested me most and then recompose the canvas, which
thus became like a sort of checkerboard, where all those forms
were broken up." And precisely
in developing the principle of small squares, Bianco, around
'57 came to what was probably to remain his greatest, and undoubtedly
his most famous works: the Tableaux dorés. |
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