Piero Maniscalco
dal 24/2/2009 al 24/3/2009
Segnalato da
24/2/2009
Piero Maniscalco
Moscow Gallery, Moscow
Labirinty. "The labyrinth is a place and no place, it is sense and no sense, memory and oblivion together for those who believe in the gods of time, in immortality, and for whoever does not believe in their virtues, Death.".
The labyrinth is a place and no place,
It is sense and no sense,
Memory and oblivion together
For those who believe in the gods of time,
In immortality,
And for whoever does not believe in their virtues,
Death.
It is architecture that divides
Matter from shadow, deceit,
Illusion, denial of denial,
Abstract fury,
Loss of oneself, of memory,
Of space.
It is cloud, who wraps askew
Whoever finds himself,
Before, behind, by day,
By night, desperate, furious,
Alive, living, by slow and heavy,
Quick and light steps.
It is Sisyphus, deceived, obstinate,
Giving the illusion of certainty,
Giving certainty to illusion,
In an eternal round, endless anabasis,
Violent fall, wrapped in a great cloak,
So high the view is wiped out.
It is Daedalus inextricably, unnameably,
Losing himself, his name,
His history, what happened,
Cursed, unnamed,
Without cease, walled up, without
Walls, in the illusion of being
Architect of the world but, in fact,
Wrapped in myth, suffocated, transfixed.
It is Dionysius, lord,
Seated on the throne, king
Of who wins, murderer
Of losers, happy
In gladness and joy,
Gloomy and melancholy
In sadness and pain.
It is a mask, like another face
And a liar, it is
Shield and sword, like
Fear and menace.
It is the phallus, like a knife,
That desires pain, the devil
That watches my, your, our
Ruin of man...
It is the mirror that looks and watches you,
Like a divine mark, perverted,
Hinting at men with the heads of
Bulls, fish with wings, birds
With dogs’ tails, lizards, dragons,
Centaurs, sea sirens, deer
Fleeing, chimeras; vanity.
Figures in an upside down world,
Houses on the points of spires and
Earth above sky, the only place
Where the labyrinth is revealed, annulled;
But the flight is Icarus, above all Icarus with
His eternal tears of that damned
Fall.
It is alchemy that changes death
Into a golden face, stolen from death,
The minotaur in speculum et
Aenigmat a mixture of
Unknown things and an astonishing
Infinite bestiary; lynxes,
Leopards, chimeras, harpies, nightmares,
Hairy snakes, hyenas, otters,
Crows...
It is the sketched rhinosceros, paper,
Geography, of absurd rhetoric,
Of intolerant arrogance, brute force,
Mosaic that recalls verba vana aut risui
Apta, on loqui.
It is the poet driven by error,
Horror, it is lascivious woman, everyone’s
Own demon, metaphor,
Play on words and enigma,
Art of pure pleasure, and anguish,
It is folly and the apple of discord.
Ab ovo, hanging from the vault
Cum filo che pende et ovo
That keeps in the shell in secret
The author of this, of all this,
Who will be snatched, punished, like
The thief of fire.
Francesco
Gallo
Mazzeo (scriptor optimus).
Moscow Gallery
Krymsky 10 val Moscowxpopart - Moscow