Page 1

Diego Santanelli


Diego Santanelli April 8 – June 25, 2016

146 Madeira Avenue Coral Gables, FL 33134 (786) 615 2622

Directors/Directores Marco Canale Manuel Díaz Curatorship/Curaduría Raisa Clavijo Museografía/Museography Canale Díaz Art Center Producción/Production US3 Media Services Photography/Fotografía Antonio Vanni Leonardo Di Tomaso Editors/Editores Raisa Clavijo José E. López-Niggemann Editorial Coordination/Coordinación Editorial ARTIUM Publishing Graphic Design/Diseño Gráfico Hugo Kerckhoffs Translation/Traducción Diana Israel Raisa Clavijo Copyediting/Correcciones Gregg Lasky Yamilet García Zamora Printed by ARTIUM Publishing, Miami FL. © Canale Díaz Art Publications All rights reserved. April 2016 Canale Díaz Art Center 146 Madeira Ave. Coral Gables, FL 33134 (786) 615 2622 Cover page: Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.17M (detail), 2016, enamel on canvas, 55 x 55 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.


Canale Díaz Art Center is a cultural space open to variety of art forms, with a special focus on Latin-American visual arts. However, our mission includes bringing the community closer to the arts, something we are starting to be known for in South Florida. With that in mind, we are proud to present “Resilience,” a solo show by Italian artist Diego Santanelli. From an abstract perspective, Santanelli conveys a message about fundamental concepts to mankind, where good and evil as antagonistic forces that surround humanity are presented on the canvas by means of an exquisite and delicate artistic expression that invites the viewer to introspectively search while pondering over his unusual “branching” technique. The recent works featured belong to his “Apocalypse” series, in which Santanelli invites the viewer to start a journey across abstraction as a conceptualization of life worth sharing with the rest of the world. As an art center, we also wish to highlight the wonderful integration between Santanelli’s visual works and his poetic discourse, a dialogue that is born as an expression of the artist’s interior world and the creative visual nature exemplified in his works. In short, Santanelli’s artistic work can be seen as the integration of the human being’s interior reflection and its emotions, exceptionally embodied by the magnificence of his canvases. Finally, with this exhibition we have achieved, once more, a fusion of different forms of artistic expression by uniting poetry and visual arts in one space. This will remain our contribution to the rapprochement of the community to the arts. Marco Canale and Manuel Díaz


Canale Díaz Art Center es un espacio cultural abierto a diversas formas de arte, en especial los trabajos de artistas latinoamericanos. Igualmente, nuestra misión incluye el acercamiento de la comunidad a las artes, de tal forma que nuestra institución ha comenzado a distinguirse como referencia obligada en cuanto a las expresiones artísticas que anidan en el Gran Miami. Es por ello que nos complace presentar la exposición “Resilience” del artista italiano Diego Santanelli. Desde la abstracción, Santanelli nos habla de conceptos fundamentales para el hombre, donde el bien y el mal, como fuerzas antagónicas que rodean la existencia humana, se hacen presentes en el lienzo a través de una exquisita y delicada expresión plástica que nos invita a revisarnos íntimamente, al tiempo que permite abrirnos hacia su inusual técnica del “branching”. En efecto, a través de la serie llamada Apocalypse, Diego Santanelli invita al espectador a iniciar una especie de travesía, donde el artista nos demuestra que la abstracción encierra, sin duda, una conceptualización de la vida, que vale la pena compartir. Como centro de arte queremos destacar, además, la maravillosa integración entre la obra plástica de Santanelli y su discurso poético, un diálogo que surge de la expresión del mundo interior del artista y de su naturaleza creativa y que se ven reflejadas en sus obras. En resumen, el trabajo artístico de Santanelli puede ser concebido como la integración de la reflexión y del sentir del ser humano, plasmado de manera excepcional en la magnificencia de sus telas. Finalmente, con esta exposición, hemos alcanzado, una vez más, la fusión de distintas expresiones artísticas al unir la poesía con las artes plásticas bajo un mismo techo. Esta continuará siendo nuestra contribución al acercamiento de la comunidad al arte. Marco Canale y Manuel Díaz


Survivor If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. William Blake1

By Raisa Clavijo Writing about Diego Santanelli represents a difficult task for me, because Diego, in addition to being an exceptional artist, is a friend. Synthesizing in a few words months of work and collaboration is without a doubt an arduous exercise. This text seeks to present to you the oeuvre of this artist, delving into the bases that conceptually sustain the curatorship of “Resilience,” his first solo exhibition in the United States. Diego Santanelli is one of those artists who fascinate art historians because he has an innate capacity to reinvent himself, to navigate the creative process while he analyzes and values successes and failures, to then retrace his steps once more and obtain astonishing results, which signify the improved synthesis of prior achievements. He has not followed an academic path, and I believe that this factor has been fundamental to the spontaneity and originality that we witness in his work. He was born into a family of doctors, and following that path appeared to him, in the beginning, to be a natural choice. He graduated from medical school; he specialized in dentistry and practiced that profession for many years, but he never abandoned his art work. The pieces from those years, during which he split his time between the doctor’s office and the artist’s studio, exude pain, frustration, the repressed desire to surrender himself entirely to the act of creation. They are pieces in which he cultivated an expressionist figuration, scenes with an abundance of trapped individuals in closed rooms, men with large brains rich in textures, trapped in the snare of reason, precisely his emotional state at that time.

Subsequently, his work moved through other phases; there was his series “spatulas,” which he exhibited in April 2009 at the Galería Maninni in Naples. After that, in May 2009, he exhibited in Paris at the Espace Pierre Cardin, where he officially presented his series “Hiddenart,” a collection of works that he worked on until 2013 based on the combination of collages and thermosensitive enamels. His current series “Apocalypse” arose in 2013 as a result of his experimentation with different materials during the development of the series “Hiddenart.” Influenced by the ‘action painting’ of Pollock, the artist arrived at a technical solution that he called ‘branching’ based on the principle of vigorously spilling large quantities of paint over the surface of the canvas, allowing the materials to mix at their whim and be displaced as a result of the force of gravity. The term ‘branching’ alludes to the process of overlaying and connecting various layers and areas of pictorial material.2 Diego inclines and moves the work plane in order to facilitate the movement of the mass of material. In this way, each level overlays the next, successively. The pictorial material seems to come alive, to stretch out, and to branch out, while it distributes itself freely over the canvas. One of his great successes lies in his ability to control ‘the pictorial accident’ and obtain from it rich qualities, transparencies and textures. The results are surfaces on which the energy of the creative act pulsates and perhaps reminds us of mystic landscapes. It is not precisely about landscapes because the artist does not conceive of them as such, nor does he rely for his creation on the teachings in structure and perspective bequeathed by the landscape tradition to the history of art. Subconsciously,


he evokes through textures and colors a mystic state of communion with the divine that the viewer, upon seeing it, identifies with his own visual repertoire. Conceptually, “Apocalypse” is the result of his journey of self-discovery. That experience has materialized in this prolific body of work that includes paintings, poems and an opera. “Apocalypse” is understood by the artist as the search for the keys to achieving knowledge, to discovering the truth about the universe through conscious observation and the exploration of one’s inner self. The term “apocalypse,” which comes from the Latin “apocalypsis” and the Greek ἀποκάλυψις (apokálypsis), signifies “revelation,” to lift the veil, to discover what lies hidden beneath. It is for Diego a journey that, although full of obstacles and darkness, in the end generates a rebirth, an evolution and a state of grace, an encounter with “the divine,” with that sublime presence, and on occasion, although he cannot explain it, an encounter with the essence of the human being. Aldous Huxley, who in the middle of the 20th century carried out several experiments with mescaline, seeking to activate his senses and elevate his levels of perception, recognized the privileged ability of the artist to capture and interpret in a unique way the stimuli of the outside world, because the authentic work of art arises precisely from a profound process of self-knowledge, “The perception of the artist is not limited to what is biologically or socially useful,” said Huxley. “Even his conscience is filtered, through the reduction valve of the mind and the ego; some of the knowledge pertains to Free Intelligence. It is the knowledge of the intrinsic meaning of everything in existence. For the artist, the different details of the work represent in a singular way the unfathomable mystery of pure being.”3 As a referent, Diego starts with the idea that Saint John the Apostle presented in The Apocalypse or the Book of Revelation. He read, interpreted and rewrote for himself this final book of the New Testament. Then, based on these teachings, he wrote an opera that he presented at the Teatro Possillipo in Naples in March 2015. His interpretation of the prophecy of Saint John the Apostle lies in opening the doors of perception in order to find answers. Upon lifting the veil


of the distractions of the material world, the human being embarks upon a voyage that leads to emotional growth and empowerment. Thus, no matter how treacherous the journey in the terrestrial world, it will lead to rebirth. We know that every work of art is intrinsically tied to the experiences of its author and is obviously the product of its time. Kandinsky said that “each painting mysteriously harbors an entire life, a life with much suffering, doubts, hours of enthusiasm and light. Where is this life going? Where does it look for the soul of the artist, if it was already surrendered in the creation?”4 Upon exploring the pictorial and literary work of Diego, the viewer finds a rich universe in which the vision of the author overlaps with the historic and social events that we live today.5 The artist functions as a sieve through which emotions are filtered and then returned in the form of art. In his poem Tra il Bianco e il Nero, he notes in this respect, “Come cronista sul mio tempo mi racconto, e l’anima, che è setaccio di dolore, filtra ogni cosa.6” Subsequently, in commenting on his work he adds, “My work is precisely the result of that interaction between the artist and the medium with which he works, between the individual and the world that surrounds him. Through this gesture, I attempt to recount my personal story, presenting it as a discourse parallel to the recent history of humanity and enriching the creative act with symbolic and conceptual values that project it to a universal dimension.”7 From an abstract-expressionist key, Diego interprets the creative act as a cathartic exercise aimed at exorcising the pain, the solitude, but also at channeling happiness and his reaction to all stimuli coming from his daily environment. An analysis of his literary work shows how he is affected by wars, banality and the lack of hope for the future currently confronting humanity. Through his work, this artist paints the chaos and organizes it, projecting his emotions through direct interaction with the pictorial material with which he undertakes a harmonic journey of intense collaboration. In his personal search for the truth, he finds a parallel between the malleability of the material and man’s capacity to adapt and survive under extreme conditions. It is precisely this reflection that I relied on to conceptual-

ize the curatorial direction for this exhibition. “Resilience” arose from this interpretation. Resilience is understood as the capacity to survive adversity, to grow emotionally, to create beauty from darkness. A close relationship between meanings and the technique that Diego has developed is hereby established. He challenges the pictorial material to undertake a “voyage” of exploration on the surface of the canvas. It must adapt itself, conquer obstacles, overcome the inclinations of the plane to which it is subjected, but it is also free to flow, to mix in different layers in order to create that weave rich in textures and whimsical forms that comprises his pieces. The series “Apocalypse” has passed through several phases that go hand-in-hand with the technical evolution of the artist and with the very assimilation of the concept that sustains this body of work. He started with works in which the exuberance of the color prevailed. They were the result of experimentation with ‘branching’ and the exploration of the possibilities of pigments, their ability to mix at the same time that they spread over the pictorial surface. During this phase he utilized resins to enrich the layers of material and reinforce the sensation of three-dimensionality. Subsequently, he started to explore the ductile potentialities of the pigments so that they could create their own three-dimensionality (See Apocalypse zero.5M, 2015), to then explore the possibility of breaking with the canon and traditional perspective. He starts reverting the position of the pieces, seeking to express his own quest for self-knowledge, challenging the force of gravity. From this period come pieces like Apocalypse zero.6M (2015), in which he captures the magical fall into the void, the ultra-terrestrial voyage, the rupture with the classic convention of the landscape in Western painting. This phase is followed by a radical rupture with the canon and with the material in a metaphorical sense. In Apocalypse zero.8M (Il Buco Bianco) (2016), he confronts the canvas from four sides, spilling pigments, allows them to flow without concern for traditional perspective. It is a piece in which extensive surfaces of color predominate and the pictorial accident dominates and creates whimsical voids and transparencies. In this respect he would say in a poem that he

wrote at the time he was creating this work, “I miei sistemi di coerenza e la logica giustizia hanno i piedi ancora saldi, ma il pendio del corpo sporge, sul vuoto, sopra anime erranti variegate nel colore, e io punto la meta.” (…) “E io rompo la materia, tradizioni e prospettive, ogni residuo, convenzione. Dentro un passo inesorabile svelo l’inganno.”8 After this piece, freedom of thought exploded in Diego like a grenade after the safety lever is released. He breaks absolutely with all convention; the colors soften, the transparencies become more subtle and delicate, and the ramifications no longer delineate over the surface but rather are camouflaged in it. They only stand out because of their texture, their corporeal presence under layers and layers of pigments. With this new solution Diego recovers the sensation of threedimensionality that he achieved before with resins, but now achieves with pigments and through the overlaying and handling of the planes on the surface, creating levels of perspective and three-dimensionality. In prior works one could observe a point of entry; the position from which the point of observation was conditioned or was suggested. Hereafter there are no predefined entry doors; the viewer can enter from any angle. The planes overlap, and once the viewer takes up a position before the piece, he is already in it. His recent works are brimming with energy, an energy that pulsates as if the material, upon flowing across the canvas, has retained within itself all of the force of movement. In works like Apocalypse zero.11M (2016), compacted centers of energy, which seem to want to explode at any moment, stand out like points of tension, where souls appear ready to break through the surface and emerge freely, with lives of their own. During the months we worked together on this exhibition, Diego traveled there and back, a journey of self-knowledge, of purging any contaminating habits, preconceived ideas, references that could stifle creation. He has reinvented himself by questioning all of the certainties. He has survived it all, even himself, with that force that only he possesses in order to each day unleash a new war against the stable, the immobile, the dead. He has been reborn to present to us a more mature and universal work. Once more reborn, wiser, freer, more human.



poem says, “Piango con quel dio senza uniforme, senza patria né bandiera, per quel

1. Huxley, Aldous. Las puertas de la percepción. Cielo e infierno. Mexico D.F.: Editores

dio che non ha nome né colore della pelle, mentre piango tra le mani, nei pensieri.” (“I

Mexicanos Unidos, 2014, p. 13.

cry with that god without a uniform, without a country or flag, for that god who has

2.The ramifications in the works of Diego Santanelli contain a symbolic connotation.

no name or skin color, while I cry in my hands, in my thoughts.”) A short time later, this

In this respect he comments, “The ‘branching,’ the typical ramifications that combine

poem gave rise to the painting Apocalypse zero.13M (2016).

with the material, represent errant souls that solemnly pass through the door to the

6. “As a chronicler of my time I narrate, and the soul, which is a sifter for the pain, filters

netherworld, suspended in the eternal dichotomy between good and evil, between

each thing.” Tra il Bianco e il Nero, Naples, December 2015.

black and white.” (Excerpt of an interview with the artist, February 2016).

7. Fragment of the declaration of the artist.

3.. Huxley, Aldous. Op. cit. pp. 33-34.

8. “My systems of coherence and logical justice still have feet in the equilibrium, but

4. Kandinsky, Wassily. De lo espiritual en el arte. Mexico D.F.: Ediciones Coyacán,

the body juts out; it hangs over the void, over errant souls motley in color, and I point

2010, p. 13.

out the goal.” (…) “And I break with the material, traditions and perspectives, each

5. His poetic work denotes a singular sensibility before events that take place in the

remnant, convention. With an unrelenting pace, I reveal the deception.” Excerpt of Il

world on a daily basis. Among numerous examples, of note is the poem Senza nome,

Buco Bianco, Miami, February 2016.

written based on the terrorist attacks in Paris in November 2015. A fragment of the


Sobreviviente Si las puertas de la percepción quedaran depuradas, todo se habría de mostrar al hombre tal cual es: infinito. William Blake1

Por Raisa Clavijo Escribir sobre Diego Santanelli significa para mí una tarea difícil, porque Diego además de un excepcional artista, es mi amigo. Sintetizar en un número reducido de palabras meses de trabajo y de colaboración es un ejercicio, sin lugar a dudas, arduo. Este texto busca presentarles la obra de este artista, profundizando en las bases que sustentan conceptualmente la curaduría de “Resilience”, su primera exhibición personal en los Estados Unidos. Diego Santanelli es uno de esos artistas que fascinan a los historiadores del arte porque tiene una capacidad innata para reinventarse, para transitar por el proceso creativo mientras analiza y valora aciertos y desaciertos, para luego desandarlo de regreso obteniendo resultados asombrosos, que significan la síntesis mejorada de logros anteriores. Diego no ha seguido una formación académica y pienso que este factor ha sido primordial en la espontaneidad y originalidad que vemos en su obra. Nació en una familia de médicos, y seguir ese camino le pareció, en un inicio, una elección natural. Se graduó de Medicina, se especializó en Odontología y ejerció esa profesión durante muchos años, pero nunca abandonó su obra. Las piezas de esos años en que compartía el tiempo entre la consulta del médico y el estudio del artista exhudan dolor, frustración, el deseo reprimido de entregarse por entero al acto de crear. Son obras en las que cultivaba una figuración expresionista, escenas en las que abundaban individuos atrapados en estancias cerradas, hombres con grandes cerebros ricos en texturas, retenidos en la trampa de la razón, justamente su estado emocional en aquel tiempo.

Posteriormente, su obra transitó por otras etapas, vino su serie de “spatulas” la cual expuso en abril de 2009 en la Galería Maninni, en Nápoles.Después, en mayo de 2009 exhibió en París, en el Espace Pierre Cardin, donde presentó oficialmente su serie “Hiddenart”, un conjunto de obras en las que trabajó hasta el año 2013 que se basaban en la combinación de collages y de esmaltes termosensibles. Su serie actual “Apocalypse” nació en 2013, como resultado de sus experimentaciones con diferentes materiales durante el proceso de desarrollo de la serie “Hiddenart”. Influenciado por la ‘action painting’ de Pollock, el artista llegó a una solución técnica que llamó ‘branching’ basada en el principio de verter vigorosamente grandes masas de pintura sobre la superficie de la tela, dejando que los materiales se mezclen a su antojo y se desplacen por acción de la fuerza de gravedad. El término ‘branching’ alude al proceso de superponer y conectar, entre sí, varias capas y áreas de materia pictórica.2 Diego inclina y ondula el plano de trabajo para facilitar el movimiento de la masa de materia. De este modo, cada nivel se superpone al otro, sucesivamente. La materia pictórica parece cobrar vida, alargarse, ramificarse al tiempo que se distribuye libremente sobre el lienzo. Uno de sus grandes aciertos radica en su habilidad para controlar ‘el accidente pictórico’ y obtener de él ricas calidades, transparencias y texturas. El resultado son superficies en las cuales late la energía del acto creativo y que pudieran recordarnos paisajes místicos. No se trata propiamente de paisajes porque el artista no los concibe como tales, ni se apoya para su creación en las enseñanzas que en estructura y perspectiva ha legado a la historia del arte la tradición paisajística. Él evoca


inconscientemente, a través de texturas y colores, un estado místico de comunión con lo divino que el espectador, al percibirlo, identifica con su repertorio visual. Conceptualmente, “Apocalypse” es el resultado de su viaje de autodescubrimiento personal. Esa experiencia se ha materializado en este prolífico cuerpo de trabajos que incluyen pinturas, poemas y una ópera. “Apocalypse” es entendida por el artista como la búsqueda de las claves para alcanzar el conocimiento, de hallar la verdad acerca del universo a partir de la observación consciente y de la exploración del propio mundo interior. Justamente, el término ‘apocalipsis’ (que proviene del latín ‘apocalypsis’ y del griego ἀποκάλυψις (apokálypsis), significa ‘revelación’, apartar el velo, descubrir lo que estaba oculto. Es para Diego un trayecto que, aunque lleno de obstáculos y oscuridad, al final genera un renacimiento, una evolución y un estado de gracia y de encuentro con ‘lo divino’, con esa presencia sublime y en ocasiones inexplicable que para él se traduce en la confluencia con la esencia del ser humano. Aldous Huxley, quien a mediados del siglo XX realizó numerosos experimentos con mezcalina buscando activar sus sentidos y elevar sus niveles de percepción, reconocía la capacidad privilegiada del artista para captar e interpretar de modo peculiar los estímulos del mundo exterior porque la obra de arte auténtica nace precisamente de un profundo proceso de autoconocimiento, “La percepción del artista no está limitada a lo que es biológica o socialmente útil,” decía Huxley. “Se filtra hasta su conciencia, a través de la válvula reductora del cerebro y del ego, algo del conocimiento perteneciente a la Inteligencia Libre. Es un conocimiento del significado intrínseco de todo lo existente. Para el artista los diferentes detalles de las obras representan de un modo peculiar el insondable misterio del puro ser.”3 Diego parte, como referente, de la idea que sobre el Apocalypse presentó el Apóstol San Juan en el Libro del Apocalipsis o Libro de revelaciones. El leyó, interpretó y reescribió para sí este último libro del Nuevo Testamento. Luego, basado en estas enseñanzas, escribió una ópera que puso en escena en el Teatro Possilippo, de Nápoles en marzo de 2015. Su interpretación de la profecía del Apóstol San Juan estriba en descorrer las puertas de la percepción para encontrar las respuestas. Al


descorrer el velo de las distracciones del mundo material, el ser humano emprende un viaje que conduce al crecimiento y al fortalecimiento emocional. De este modo, no importa cuán accidentado sea el trayecto en el mundo terrenal, el resultado traerá siempre consigo un renacimiento. Sabemos que toda obra de arte está intrínsecamente ligada a las experiencias de su autor y es obviamente hija de su tiempo. Kandisnky decía que “cada cuadro guarda misteriosamente toda una vida, una vida con muchos sufrimientos, dudas, horas de entusiasmo y de luz. ¿Hacia dónde va esta vida? ¿Hacia dónde busca el alma del artista, si también se entregó en la creación?”4 Al explorar la obra pictórica y literaria de Diego, el espectador encuentra un rico universo en el que la visión del autor se imbrica con los acontecimientos históricos y sociales que vivimos hoy.5 El artista funciona como un tamiz por el cual se filtran las emociones para devolverse luego en forma de arte. En su poema Tra il Bianco e il Nero apunta al respecto, “Come cronista sul mio tempo mi racconto, e l’anima, che è setaccio di dolore, filtra ogni cosa.6” Posteriormente, al comentar acerca de su trabajo, agrega: “Mi obra es justamente el resultado de esa interacción entre el artista y el medio sobre el que trabaja, entre el individuo y el mundo que le rodea. A través de este gesto, intento contar mi historia personal, presentándola como un discurso paralelo a la historia reciente de la humanidad, y enriqueciendo el acto creativo de valores simbólicos y conceptuales que lo proyectan hacia una dimensión universal.”7 Desde una clave abstracto-expresionista, Diego interpreta el acto creativo como un ejercicio catártico encaminado a exorcizar el dolor, la soledad, pero también a canalizar la alegría y su reacción ante todos los estímulos provenientes del entorno cotidiano. Un análisis de su obra literaria demuestra cómo le afectan las guerras, la banalidad, la falta de expectativas del futuro que enfrenta la humanidad actualmente. A través de su obra, este artista pinta el caos y lo organiza, proyecta sus emociones a partir de la interacción directa con la materia pictórica junto a la cual emprende un trayecto armónico de intensa colaboración. Halla un paralelo entre la maleabilidad plástica de la materia y esa capacidad de adaptación y supervivencia del ser humano a situaciones extremas, en su viaje personal en busca de la verdad.

Justamente, me apoyé en esta reflexión para conceptualizar la propuesta curatorial para esta exhibición. De esta interpretación nació “Resilience”. La resiliencia entendida como la capacidad para sobrevivir a la adversidad, de crecer emocionalmente, de crear belleza desde la oscuridad. Aquí se establece una estrecha relación de significados con la técnica que ha desarrollado Diego. El reta a la materia pictórica a emprender un ‘viaje’ de exploración sobre la superficie de la tela. Ella debe adaptarse, vencer obstáculos, superar las inclinaciones del plano a que él la somete, pero también es libre de correr, mezclarse en diferentes capas para crear ese tejido rico en texturas y en formas caprichosas que compone sus piezas. La serie “Apocalypse” ha atravesado varias etapas que van de la mano con la evolución técnica del artista y con la propia asimilación del concepto que sostiene este cuerpo de trabajos. Inició con obras en las que primaba la exuberancia en el color, resultado de la experimentación con el ‘branching’ y de la exploración de las posibilidades de los pigmentos, su capacidad para mezclarse al tiempo que se expandían sobre la superficie pictórica. En esta etapa usaba resinas para enriquecer las capas de materia y reforzar la sensación de tridimensionalidad. Posteriormente, comienza a explorar las potencialidades dúctiles de los pigmentos para crear por sí mismos tridimensionalidad (véase Apocalipse zero.5M (2015) para luego explorar la posibilidad de romper con el canon y con la perspectiva tradicional. Comienza a revertir la posición de las obras, buscando expresar su propio viaje personal de autoconocimiento, retando la fuerza de gravedad. De esta fase surgen piezas como Apocalypse zero.6M (2015), en la cual captura la caída mágica al vacío, el viaje ultraterreno, la ruptura con la convención clásica del paisaje en la pintura occidental. A ésta le sigue una ruptura radical con el canon y la materia en un sentido metafórico. En la obra Apocalypse zero.8M (Il Buco Bianco) (2016) se enfrenta al lienzo desde los cuatro lados, vierte pigmentos y los deja correr sin preocuparse por la perspectiva tradicional. Es una pieza donde predominan amplias superficies de color y donde el accidente pictórico domina y crea caprichosos vacíos y transparencias. Al respecto diría en un poema que escribió al tiempo que creaba esta obra, “I

miei sistemi di coerenza e la logica giustizia hanno i piedi ancora saldi, ma il pendio del corpo sporge, sul vuoto, sopra anime erranti variegate nel colore, e io punto la meta.” (…) “E io rompo la materia, tradizioni e prospettive, ogni residuo, convenzione. Dentro un passo inesorabile svelo l’inganno.”8 Luego de esta pieza, la libertad explotó en Diego como una granada a la que se le retira el anillo de seguridad. Rompe absolutamente con toda convención, los colores se suavizan, las transparencias se hacen más sutiles y delicadas, las ramificaciones no se delinean sobre la superficie, sino que se camuflan en ella, se destacan sólo por su textura, por su presencia corpórea bajo capas y capas de pigmentos. Con esta nueva solución, Diego recupera la sensación de tridimensionalidad que lograba antes aplicando resinas, pero ahora obteniéndola con pigmentos y a través de la superposición y manejo de los planos sobre la superficie, creando niveles de perspectiva y tridimensionalidad. En obras anteriores se observaba un punto de entrada, se sugería la posición desde la cual se condicionaba el lugar de observación. A partir de aquí ya no hay puertas de entrada predefinidas, el espectador puede entrar desde cualquier ángulo. Los planos se imbrican entre sí y una vez que el espectador se sitúa ante la obra ya está dentro de ella. Sus obras recientes rebosan energía, una energía que late como si la materia, al correr sobre el lienzo, hubiera retenido dentro de sí toda la fuerza del movimiento. En obras como Apocalypse zero.11M (2016) se destacan centros de energía compactada, que parecen querer explotar en cualquier momento, como puntos de tensión donde almas parecen prontas a romper la superficie y emerger libremente, con vida propia. Durante los meses en que trabajamos juntos en esta exhibición, Diego hizo un viaje de ida y de retorno, un viaje de autonocimiento, de depuración de cualquier hábito contaminante, de ideas preconcebidas, de referencias que pudieran coartar la creación. Se ha reinventado a partir de cuestionar todas las certezas. Ha sobrevivido a todo, incluso a sí mismo, con esa fuerza que sólo él tiene para librar cada día una nueva guerra contra lo estable, lo inmóvil, lo muerto. Ha renacido para presentarnos una obra más madura y universal. Una vez más, ha renacido, más sabio, más libre, más humano.



viembre 2015. Un fragmento del poema dice, “Piango con quel dio senza unifor-

1. Huxley, Aldous. Las puertas de la percepción. Cielo e infierno. México D.F.: Edi-

me, senza patria né bandiera, per quel dio che non ha nome né colore della pelle,

tores Mexicanos Unidos, 2014, p. 13.

mentre piango tra le mani, nei pensieri.” (“Lloro con ese dios sin uniforme, sin un

2. Las ramificaciones en las obras de Diego Santanelli encierran una connotación sim-

país o una bandera, por ese dios que no tiene nombre, ni color en la piel, mientras

bólica. Al respecto comenta, “El ‘branching’, las típicas ramificaciones que se amalga-

que lloro entre mis manos, en los pensamientos.”) Poco tiempo después, este

man con la materia, representan las almas errantes que solemnemente traspasan la

poema dio luz a la pintura Apocalypse zero.13M (2016).

puerta al inframundo, suspendidas en la eterna dicotomía entre el bien y el mal, entre

6. “Como cronista de mi tiempo me narro, y el alma, que es un tamiz del dolor,

el blanco y el negro.” (Fragmento de una entrevista con el artista, febrero 2016).

filtra cada cosa”. Tra il Bianco e il Nero, Nápoles, diciembre 2015.

3. Huxley, Aldous. Op. cit. pp. 33-34.

7 Fragmento de la declaración del artista.

4. Kandinsky, Wassily. De lo espiritual en el arte. México D.F.: Ediciones Coyacán,

8. “Mis sistemas de coherencia y lógica justicia tienen pies todavía en equilibrio,

2010, p. 13

pero el cuerpo sobresale, pende sobre el vacío, sobre almas errantes abigarradas

5. Su obra poética denota una peculiar sensibilidad ante los acontecimientos

en el color, y yo señalo la meta.” (…) “Y yo rompo con la materia, tradiciones y

que se suceden a diario en el mundo. Entre numerosos ejemplos se destaca el

perspectivas, cada residuo, convención. Con un ritmo inexorable revelo el enga-

poema Senza nome, escrito a raíz de los atentados terroristas en Paris, en no-

ño.” Fragmento de Il Buco Bianco, Miami, febrero 2016.


Diego Santanelli: Resilience This interview attempts to draw the reader close to the creative and experiential universe of Diego Santanelli (Naples, Italy, 1965) who is exhibiting a selection of recent works at Canale Díaz Art Center. The exhibition entitled “Resilience” is based upon creating a parallel between the creative strategy and conceptual foundation of his oeuvre and that human capacity to adapt to and conquer adversity, to grow emotionally, to create beauty out of darkness and pain. Over the past four years, Santanelli has developed a body of work that includes painting, poetry and theater that he calls “Apocalypse,” through which he undertook a voyage of self-discovery. Apocalypse is understood by the artist as the search for the keys to explain the existence of the divine, to arrive at knowledge, to discover the truth about the universe through conscious observation and the exploration of one’s inner self. Santanelli takes as a referent the idea presented in The Apocalypse of Saint John the Apostle or The Book of Revelation. Its essence is based on opening the doors of perception in order to find answers. Upon lifting the veil of material distractions, the human being embarks upon a journey that leads to emotional growth and empowerment. In this way, it does not matter how treacherous the journey in the material and earthly world may be, as it will always lead to a rebirth.

man, who himself has restored it through the arts for almost 2,000 years. In The Book of Revelation, after the visit of the messenger angel, Saint John the Apostle predicted that passage through the harsh path of the material world was the antechamber to perfect harmony in the afterlife. I have focused on the Apocalypse since my pictorial experimentation based on free interaction with the material and the search for alternative forms of perspective capable of generating a new and seductive profoundness. The complex chromatic weave structured on multiple levels that is generated in my work alludes to catharsis, the definitive fracture between my inner self and the outside world with a clear evolution in a technical and creative sense through as yet unexplored worlds. From the start I was clear as to the identity of this series. I realized that it was about the Apocalypse and about a creative universe that made me feel at home. The semiconscious search was over and made way for the conscious avenue. Through reading the ancient prophecy of Saint John, I discovered an unexpected end result, which I believe created in me the need to recount the meaning of this great revelation. In this way, what was initially a long solitary journey through tragic episodes answered all of my questions, providing me with a personal perspective that is expressed through my work.

Raisa Clavijo - Your most recent series of works is grouped under the title “Apocalypse.” What is its unifying concept? How did it arise? Diego Santanelli - It is common to use the adjective ‘apocalyptic’ with a negative and tragic connotation. However, the Apocalypse is not just a catastrophe; it is a complex journey that is perfected upon arriving at Celestial Jerusalem, a place of light and revelation, the perfect city for man in an eternal alliance with God. The Apocalypse can have a happy ending. The Greek term ‘Apò kaliptèn’ means ‘to lift the veil’; as such, it signifies ‘revelation.’ It is a revelation about the destiny of

R.C. - What exactly is your personal vision? D.S. - For me, the Apocalypse is a metaphor, which underlies the meaning of life and alludes to an earthly purgatory that we experience subconsciously. Purgatory is now and is of the soul, and the journey to the afterlife is already underway. That possible happy ending called Celestial Jerusalem shall be for us a place of divine revelation. A meteor will not hit the earth, nor will the ocean flood the cities, because judgment is not universal, but individual. It is a personal judgment that takes place at the moment of death. I do not know what form God takes, however I imagine him as the


great governor of the universe, above the parties, without discrimination on the basis of race, politics or religion; an energy both positive and at the same time negative, the good and the bad, like the man who carries within himself a god in his image and likeness. This is a journey in which the body suffers as much as the mind and which lasts a lifetime. In this way, the apparent material journey contains an introspective and spiritual experience. R.C. - How is your vision of the universe expressed in your literary work? D.S. - I wrote the script for the mise en scène of a musical, Apocalypse Opera based on the vision that Saint John the Apostle presents about the Apocalypse in the Book of Revelation. Apocalypse Opera addresses man’s spiritual path on earth, the difficulties he must overcome and the desired happy ending. It is an attempt to express my vision of life. For their part, the poems are fragments of emotional states I have experienced, which bring together elements shaping the idea of the Apocalypse in which pain and hope are essential ingredients. R.C. - Is your work biographical in character? D.S. - The journey of self-knowledge, the vision, all of it is biographically comparable to the customary experience of the human being. The idea is that the revelation is an earthly journey of purification, the purgatory from which one cannot extract oneself. Each artist functions as a kind of filter for the energy of the universe. Through him all energy passes, whether it be positive or negative. He metabolizes it and returns it to the universe in the form of works of art. Each artist has his own personal elaboration of these stimuli. In this way, my pain, my happiness, my disillusions and hopes are inevitably channeled in my work. It is a parallel between my Apocalypse as a man and as an artist, and the creative evolution that accompanies me. R.C. - You speak of a revelation on the human plane and another on the creative plane, of an intrinsic relationship between art and life.


D.S. - Each man lives his own Apocalypse, structured through his own life’s journey, through his own happiness and suffering. My familial DNA is divided between art and science, and life has brought me the same dichotomy, first giving me the role of doctor and then of artist. Only at a mature age was I able to develop my artistic career professionally. I do not deny any part of the path that I have traveled. I believe that it is precisely the experiences that I have lived that have prepared me to arrive at the world of art with a defined mental structure, with theoretic and methodological tools that help me do what I do now, with so much life experience and at the same time with minimal academic influence. I really do not know in what direction I may have gone had I received conventional artistic training. For years I searched for a path. In artistic creation I found my core, passing through a personal Apocalypse that paradoxically has become my creative nucleus. I have established a very special relationship with the pictorial material, with the acrylic pigments. We have traveled this path together, each part managing to optimize the results. The material has evolved and has been modified to the same extent that my creative journey evolved, giving rise to characteristic chromatisms that are the fruit of great harmony. R.C. - Is there a symbolism in these works? D.S. - ‘Branching,’ the typical ramifications that combine with the material, represent the errant souls that solemnly pass through the door to the underworld, suspended in the eternal dichotomy between good and evil, between black and white. When in a work of art a specific ramification dominates, it symbolizes my emotional state at that creative moment, and at the same time it gives the viewer the opportunity to initiate the journey through my work and from my perspective. The obstacles strewn throughout the different layers of material and the different levels that comprise the structure of the works symbolize the difficulties and the possible answers that have paved the path toward the light. R.C. - What do you specifically mean by answers? D.S. - Every human being needs to get answers, to find the

truth. The whole personal journey that we undertake both physically and mentally leads in that direction. The ascending route toward the truth is full of questions for which there are no apparent answers. We sense only being able to arrive at knowledge, the key to the truth, at the moment of passing from the earthly world to the afterlife, at the moment of death, because truth is not of this earth. Only then can the anxiety of not knowing one’s reason for being be satisfied. Upon being born we embark upon a voyage not of our choosing, which is sometimes full of stress and uncertainty. This voyage is made more difficult to the extent that it is navigated subconsciously; we simply concentrate on earthly and material factors instead of seeking answers within ourselves. It is said that ‘God created man in his image and likeness’ because the divine is within us, in that part of us with which we seldom interact, the soul. The introspective journey connects us with the most hidden places in our being; it is a journey one takes alone, during which we look into the eyes of our very nature, our fears, to enter into communion with ourselves, in harmony with the rest of the world and with God. And it is from that connection between mind and soul that conscience arises, that uncomfortable presence that beats within us, that judges and that we are not inclined to actualize. The catharsis operates by getting rid of everything that is earthly, the loss of every gravitational reference that could tie us to a specific world, moving away from the universal and the infinite. R.C. - So, you believe that in this process the ‘absence of gravity’ is necessary. D.S. - It is an allegory that implies an invitation to the catharsis, which in my work enters virtually as through many doors to embark upon a journey in the absence of gravity through the infinite worlds of the energies that move the universe. R.C. - The tecnique with which you create your works is a unique way of interacting with the pictorial material. Could you explain the process? D.S. - My technique is the offspring of my Apocalypse, just as the Apocalypse is of the technique. They were born in unison; they walk the same path and they complement each

other. In my relationship with the material I try to be a good interpreter, leaving it a certain autonomy so that it can take new and attractive paths that always surprise me. I challenge the material; I respectfully admire its capabilities and potentialities. I see them as opportunities to develop my creative freedom. I only make use of the force of gravity; I do not utilize instruments. I simply allow the color to move fluidly, free to give life to unimaginable shades and transparencies, only subject to gravity and to the inclination of the stretcher frame. In this manner I reproduce what in the long run occurs in nature, in accordance with the laws of physics, the internal fluids of the earth, the incandescent matter, the underground waters, everything that flows at different levels, giving to the material the dignity of protagonist, but always watching out for signals to translate into possible inspirations. From this interaction arises the architectonic structure organized on various levels that compose my apocalyptic panoramas. R.C. - You speak of creative freedom as a dimension, a competence to be acquired. D.S. - It is a path taken with and through the material. I am surprised how the path of art is always closely related to life. To complete the journey to the afterlife, man should free himself from all worldly ties. The rupture with conventional systems proposes new paths of freedom. The same thing happens in the creative journey in which by freeing oneself from the ties of the canon, one can launch the range of opportunities ad infinitum. My works do not possess conditioning elements in order to interpret their perspective; they can be viewed from any of the four sides. R.C. - How did you discover this method of working with pigments? D.S. - My encounter with acrylic pigments was fulminant for me. It was the discovery of a fascinating world in which the characterists of the material opened up an infinite field of possibilities. At the beginning my work was concentrated on mass and consistency. Several experiments, in particular my work with thermosensitive pigments during my series


“Hiddenart,” oriented me toward new functional requirements, revealing potential opportunities that led me to break with conventional perspective. R.C. - Tell me about the latest works you have created, which will appear in the upcoming exhibition at the Canale Díaz Art Center? D.S. - “Resilience” is the exhibition title that we came up with together. Resilience is the capacity of the human being to adapt to suffering, to pain, to difficulties in order to survive, to overcome adversity, producing optimism and beauty. It is precisely the artist’s practice that channels his discomfort through the pigments seeking the beautiful, the sublime. Resilience is at the heart, the pulsating center of my series “Apocalypse,” seen at the same time as the journey of life and as a pictorial series within my oeuvre. The difficulties of the journey of life overlap with that of the creative process in which the material and the artist as its catalytic agent overcome obstacles on the path that leads to the culmination of the work of art. R.C. - Yes, this is precisely where the concept of the exhibition overlaps with the actual process that the material experiences in your work. D.S. - The challenge of the material is a constant in my work; it is fascinating. Testing continuously, exploiting to the nth degree my interaction with the pigments and the pictorial plane leads me to discover new dynamic and creative solutions that go hand in hand with the concepts I develop. R.C. – As you mentioned before, you have not followed a traditional artistic career; you have not followed an academic path. Why did you become inclined to artistic creation if you come from a scientific environment? To what extent do you think this is related to your current work? D.S. - I come from a family where art and science coexist. My grandmother and my aunt were painters; my uncle is an author and playwright. My grandfather and father were doctors. My brothers are also. I believe that I have taken from each of these two aspects. As I mentioned before, I arrived


at artistic creation at a mature age. Although I painted from an early age, at the time I did not conceive of it as a life choice as I do now. In my creative career there are obvious traces of my scientific training. I recall in the 1990s painting groups of people with large brains, with rich textures. They were men who lived as prisoners of conscience, depressed and trapped in a reality that did not belong to them. That is how I felt at that time, a prisoner of the profession I practiced and that did not fill the existential void that I suffered. I think that my medical training and my familiarity with chemical processes prepared me to experiment with thermosensitive pigments that were the basis of a series of works entitled “Hiddenart,” which I created between 2010 and 2013, in which the surface was covered by thermosensitive pigments that, when reacting to heat, allowed a hidden scene beneath the layer of paint to be revealed. This familiarity with the nature of pigments, with its artistic and expressive possibilities, determined that I would thereafter develop the technique I now use. R.C. - Which artists and movements would you say influenced your career? D.S. - I have always been fascinated by the great geniuses, those who have contributed to creating a diverse world and therefore a better one. Jackson Pollock is perhaps the artist whose life and work has most interested me. His genius changed the method of painting and enriched the legacy of Abstract Expressionism. His contribution stimulated my imagination and my creativity. I imagine the moment in which Pollock received the signal from the pictorial material that started dripping on the canvas, the gesture that followed, the way in which he visualized the possibilities of this discovery, the synchronism among the arm, the mind and the soul of the artist, the path to a yet to be explored dimension. I imagine the fire he must have felt inside at that cathartic moment, the maelstrom of sensations in his stomach and his mind when receiving the gift of eternity. Without a doubt, action painting and dripping have contributed perhaps subconsciously to bringing about my technique of ‘branching,’ thereby closing the circle and giving it all meaning.

Diego Santanelli: Resilience Esta entrevista pretende acercar al lector al universo creativo y vivencial de Diego Santanelli (Naples, Italy, 1965) quien exhibe su más reciente serie de trabajos en Canale Díaz Art Center hasta el 25 de junio. La exposición lleva por título “Resilience”, y parte de crear un paralelo entre la estrategia creativa y el sustento conceptual de su obra y esa capacidad humana de adaptarse y superar la adversidad, crecer emocionalmente, crear belleza desde la oscuridad y el dolor. Durante los últimos cuatro años Santanelli ha desarrollado un cuerpo de obras que incluyen pintura, poesía y teatro y que denominó “Apocalypse”, a través de las cuales realizó un viaje de autodescubrimiento personal. “Apocalypse” es entendida por el artista como la búsqueda de las claves para explicarse la existencia de lo divino, llegar a alcanzar el conocimiento, hallar la verdad acerca del universo a partir de la observación consciente y de la exploración del propio mundo interior. Santanelli toma como referente la idea que sobre el Apocalypse presentó el Apóstol San Juan en el Libro del Apocalipsis o Libro de Revelaciones. Su esencia estriba en plegar las puertas de la percepción para encontrar las respuestas. Al descorrer el velo de las distracciones del mundo material, el ser humano emprende un viaje que conduce al crecimiento y al fortalecimiento emocional. De este modo, no importa cuán accidentado sea el trayecto en el mundo material y terrenal, el resultado traerá siempre consigo un renacimiento.

‘revelación’. Es una revelación sobre el destino del hombre que por sí mismo la devuelve a través de las artes desde hace cerca de dos mil años. En el Libro de Revelaciones, el Apóstol San Juan profetizó, después de la visita del ángel mensajero, que el paso por el áspero camino del mundo material era la antesala a la perfecta armonía ultraterrena. Me he concentrado en el Apocalipsis justo después de una experimentación pictórica basada en la libre interacción con la materia y la búsqueda de formas alternativas de perspectiva capaces de generar una nueva y seductora profundidad. El complejo tejido cromático, estructurado en múltiples niveles que va generándose en mis obras alude a la catarsis, la fractura definitiva entre mi mundo interior y el mundo exterior, con una clara evolución en un sentido técnico y creativo a través de mundos aún no explorados. Tuve clara la identidad de esta serie desde un principio. Me percaté que se trataba del Apocalipsis y de un universo creativo que me hacía sentirme en casa. La búsqueda semi-inconsciente se completó y dio paso a la vía consciente. A través de la lectura de la antigua profecía de San Juan descubrí un final inesperado, que creó en mí la necesidad de contar lo que había significado esta gran revelación. De este modo, el que en un inicio fue un largo viaje en solitario a través de episodios trágicos, dio respuesta a todas mis preguntas, aportándome una perspectiva personal que se expresa a través de mi obra.

Raisa Clavijo - Tu más reciente serie de trabajos se agrupan bajo el título “Apocalypse”. ¿Cuál es el concepto que los unifica? ¿Cómo surge? Diego Santanelli - Es común usar el adjetivo ‘apocalíptico’ con una connotación negativa y trágica. Pero, el Apocalipsis no es solamente catástrofe, es un viaje complejo que se perfecciona al arribar a la Jerusalén Celestial, lugar de luz y revelación, la ciudad perfecta para el hombre en alianza eterna con dios. El Apocalipsis puede tener un final feliz. El término griego Apò kaliptèn quiere decir ‘descorrer el velo’, por lo tanto, significa

R.C. - ¿Cuál es exactamente tu visión personal? D.S. - El Apocalipsis es para mí una metáfora, que subyace en el sentido de la vida, y alude a un purgatorio terrenal que experimentamos de manera inconsciente. El purgatorio es ahora y es del alma, y ​​el viaje ultraterreno ya está en marcha. Ese posible final feliz llamado Jerusalén Celestial será para nosotros un lugar de revelación divina. No vendrá un meteorito a golpear la tierra, ni el mar inundará las ciudades, porque el juicio no es universal, sino individual. Es un juicio personal que tiene lugar en el momento de la muerte. No sé en qué forma existe Dios, pero lo


imagino como un gran regulador del universo, por encima de las partes, sin distinciones de raza, política, ni religión, sino una energía positiva y al mismo tiempo negativa, el bien y el mal, como el hombre que lleva dentro de sí un dios a su imagen y semejanza. Es este un viaje en el que sufre tanto el cuerpo como la mente y que dura toda la vida. De este modo, el aparente viaje material encierra una experiencia introspectiva y espiritual. R.C. - ¿Cómo se expresa tu visión del universo en tu obra literaria? D.S. - Escribí el guión para la puesta en escena de una obra de teatro musical, Apocalypse Opera, que se basa en la visión que el Apóstol San Juan da sobre el Apocalipsis en el Libro de Revelaciones. Apocalypse Opera aborda el camino espiritual del hombre en la Tierra, las dificultades que debe superar, el deseado final feliz. Es un intento de expresar mi visión acerca de la vida. Por su parte, los poemas son fragmentos de estados emocionales vividos por mí, que reúnen los elementos que conforman la idea sobre el Apocalipsis, pero donde el dolor y la esperanza son ingredientes fundamentales. R.C. - ¿Tiene tu obra un carácter autobiográfico? D.S. - El viaje de autoconocimiento, la visión, todo, es biográficamente comparable a la experiencia que vive en general el ser humano. La idea es que la revelación es un viaje terrenal de purificación, el Purgatorio del cual nadie puede sustraerse. Cada artista funciona como una especie de tamiz de la energía del universo. Por él pasa toda la energía, ya sea positiva, o negativa. Él la metaboliza y la devuelve al universo en forma de obras de arte. Cada artista tiene su propia elaboración personal de estos estímulos. De este modo, mi dolor, mis alegrías, mis desilusiones y esperanzas inevitablemente se canalizan en mi obra. Es un paralelo entre mi Apocalipsis como hombre y como artista, y con la evolución creativa que me acompaña. R.C. - Hablas de una revelación en el plano humano y otra en el plano creativo, de una intrínseca relación entre arte y vida. D.S. - Cada hombre vive su propio ‘Apocalipsis’, estructurado a través de su propio trayecto de vida, de sus propias


alegrías y sufrimientos. Mi ADN familiar se divide entre el arte y la ciencia, y la vida me ha aportado la misma dicotomía, dándome primero el rol del médico y luego el del artista. Sólo a una edad madura pude llegar a desarrollar profesionalmente mi carrera artística. No niego absolutamente nada del camino que he recorrido. Creo que precisamente las experiencias que he vivido me han preparado para llegar al mundo del arte con una estructura mental definida, con herramientas teóricas y metodológicas que me ayudan a hacer lo que ahora hago, con tantas huellas sobre la piel y al mismo tiempo con mínima influencia académica. Realmente no sé en qué dirección me habría dirigido si hubiera seguido una formación artística convencional. Durante años busqué un camino. En la creación artística encontré mi centro, pasando por una ‘Apocalipsis’ personal que paradójicamente se ha convertido en mi núcleo creativo. He establecido una relación muy especial con la materia pictórica, con los pigmentos acrílicos. Hemos hecho juntos este camino, logrando cada parte optimizar los resultados. La materia ha evolucionado y se ha modificado en la misma medida en que evolucionaba mi trayecto creativo, dando lugar a cromatismos característicos que son fruto de una gran sintonía. R.C. - ¿Existe cierta simbología en estas obras? D.S. - El ‘branching’, las típicas ramificaciones que se amalgaman con la materia, representan las almas errantes que solemnemente traspasan la puerta al inframundo, suspendidas en la eterna dicotomía entre el bien y el mal, entre el blanco y el negro. Cuando en una obra domina una ramificación específica, ella simboliza mi estado emocional en ese momento creativo, y al mismo tiempo le da al espectador la oportunidad de iniciar el viaje a través de mi obra desde mi perspectiva. Los obstáculos esparcidos a lo largo de las diversas capas de materia y los diversos niveles que componen la estructura de las obras simbolizan las dificultades y las posibles respuestas que han allanado el camino hacia la luz. R.C. - ¿Qué entiendes específicamente por respuestas? D.S. - Todo ser humano necesita encontrar respuestas, hallar la verdad. Todo el viaje personal que hacemos física y mental-

mente va en esa dirección. La ruta ascendente hacia la verdad está llena de interrogantes sobre las que no existe una aparente respuesta. Tenemos la sensación de sólo poder alcanzar el conocimiento, la llave a la verdad, en el momento del paso del mundo terreno al ultraterreno, en el momento de la muerte, porque la verdad no es terrenal. Sólo entonces se satisfará esa ansia generada a partir de ignorar la razón por la cual se vive. Al nacer iniciamos un viaje sin oportunidad de elección, que a veces está lleno de fatigas y vicisitudes. Este viaje es más difícil en la medida en que se hace ide forma inconsciente, simplemente concentrándonos en los factores terrenales y materiales, en lugar de buscar respuestas dentro de nosotros mismos. Se dice que “Dios creó al hombre a su imagen y semejanza” porque justamente lo divino está dentro de nosotros, en esa parte con la que no estamos habituados a interactuar, el alma. El viaje introspectivo es de conexión con los espacios más ocultos de nuestro ser, un viaje que se hace en solitario, durante el cual se mira a los ojos de nuestra naturaleza, de nuestros miedos, para entrar en comunión con nosotros mismos, en armonía con el resto del mundo y con Dios. Y de esa conexión entre mente y alma es que justamente nace la conciencia, esa presencia incómoda que late dentro de nosotros, que juzga y que somos poco propensos a materializar. Y la catarsis se opera a partir de desprenderse de todo aquello que es terrenal, la pérdida de toda referencia gravitacional que pudiera atarnos a un mundo específico, alejándonos de lo universal e infinito. R.C. - Entonces, ¿crees que en este proceso la “ausencia de gravedad” es necesaria? D.S. - Es una alegoría que significa la invitación a la catarsis, que entra virtualmente en mis obras como a través de muchas puertas, para emprender un viaje en ausencia de la fuerza de gravedad, a través de infinitos mundos, de las energías que mueven el universo. R.C. - La técnica con la cual realizas tus obras es un modo peculiar de interactuar con la materia pictórica. ¿Pudieras explicarme el proceso? D.S. - Mi técnica es hija de mi apocalipsis, al igual que el

Apocalipsis lo es de la técnica. Nacieron al unísono, caminan el mismo trayecto y se complementan. En mi relación con la materia trato de ser un buen intérprete, uno que le deja una cierta autonomía, de modo tal que pueda emprender vías nuevas y atractivas que siempre me sorprendan. Desafío a la materia, admiro respetuosamente sus capacidades y potencialidades, las veo como oportunidades para desarrollar mi libertad creativa. Me valgo sólo de la fuerza de gravedad, no uso instrumentos. Simplemente dejo al color desplazarse fluídamente, libre de dar vida a matices y transparencias inimaginables, sólo sujeta al efecto de la gravedad y a la inclinación del bastidor. De este modo reproduzco lo que a largo plazo ocurre en la naturaleza, de acuerdo a las leyes físicas, los fluídos internos de la Tierra, la materia incandescente, las aguas subterráneas, todo aquello que fluye plásticamente en diferentes niveles, dando a la materia la dignidad de protagonista, pero siempre atento a señales que traducir en posibles intuiciones. De esta interacción nace la estructura arquitectónica organizada en varios niveles que compone mis panoramas apocalípticos. R.C. - Hablas de libertad creativa como de una dimensión, una capacidad a adquirir. D.S. - Es un camino emprendido con y a través de la materia. Me sorprende cómo el camino del arte siempre está ligado a la vida. Para completar el viaje ultraterrenal, el hombre debe liberarse de todas las ataduras terrenales. La ruptura con los sistemas convencionales propone nuevas vías de libertad. Es lo mismo que sucede en el trayecto creativo en el cual el liberarse de las ataduras del canon permite disparar al infinito el rango de oportunidades. Cada una de mis obras no poseen elementos condicionantes para interpretar su perspectiva, la apreciación de la obra es posible desde cualquiera de los cuatro lados. R.C. - ¿Cómo se produce tu descubrimiento de este modo de trabajar con los pigmentos? D.S. - El encuentro con los pigmentos acrílicos fue fulminante para mí. Fue el descubrimiento de un mundo fascinante en el que las características de la materia abrieron un campo infinito de posibilidades. En un inicio el trabajo se concentró en


masa y materialidad. A partir de varias experimentaciones, en particular mi trabajo con los pigmentos termosensibles durante mi serie Hiddenart, me orientaron hacia nuevas exigencias funcionales, revelándome oportunidades potenciales que me llevaron a romper con la perspectiva convencional. R.C. - Háblame de las últimas obras que has realizado y que se agrupan en la próxima exhibición en Canale Díaz Art Center. D.S. - “Resilience” es el título que juntos hallamos para esta exposición. Resilience es la capacidad del ser humano de adaptarse al sufrimiento, al dolor, a las dificultades para sobrevivir, sobreponerse a la adversidad produciendo positividad y belleza. Es justamente la práctica que hace el artista, que canaliza su malestar a través de los pigmentos, buscando lo bello, lo sublime. La resiliencia es el corazón, el centro pulsante de mi serie Apocalipsis, vista a la vez como trayecto de vida y como serie pictórica dentro de mi trabajo. Las dificultades del trayecto de vida se solapan con las del proceso creativo en el cual la materia y el artista, como su agente catalizador, superan obstáculos durante el camino que conduce a la culminación de la obra de arte. R.C. - Sí, aquí justamente se imbrica el concepto de la exhibición con el propio proceso que experimenta la materia en tu obra. D.S. - El desafío a la materia es constante en mi trabajo, es fascinante. El probar continuamente, explotando al máximo mi interacción con los pigmentos y el plano pictórico me lleva a encontrar nuevas soluciones dinámicas y creativas que van de la mano con los conceptos que desarrollo. R.C. - No has seguido un trayecto artístico tradicional, no has seguido vías académicas. Estudiaste medicina y la ejerciste profesionalmente durante muchos años. ¿Por qué te inclinaste hacia la creación artística si vienes de un entorno científico? ¿En qué medida crees que esto se relaciona con tu obra actual? D.S. - Provengo de una familia donde el arte y la ciencia conviven. Mi abuela y mi tía fueron pintoras, mi tío es escritor y dramaturgo. Mi abuelo y mi padre fueron médicos, mis hermanos también lo son. Creo que he tomado de cada una de estas dos vertientes. No obstante, como te dije antes, llegué a la creación


artística ya en una edad madura, si bien desde joven pintaba, pero en aquel entonces no lo concebía como una elección de vida como lo veo ahora. En mi trayecto creativo existen obviamente huellas de mi formación científica. Recuerdo que en los 1990s pintaba grupos humanos en los que se destacaban grandes cerebros, con ricas texturas. Eran hombres que vivían prisioneros de la razón, deprimidos y atrapados en una realidad que no les pertenecía. Así era como yo me sentía en aquel momento, prisionero de la profesión que ejercía y que no me llenaba el vacío existencial que sufría. Creo que mi formación como médico y mi familiaridad con los procesos químicos me prepararon para experimentar con los pigmentos termosensibles que fueron la base de una serie de trabajos que se llamó “Hiddenart” y que hice entre 2010 y 2013 en la cual la superficie estaba cubierta por pigmentos termosensibles que, al reaccionar ante el calor, dejaban ver la escena escondida debajo de la capa de pintura. Esta familiaridad con la naturaleza de los pigmentos, con sus posibilidades plásticas y expresivas condicionó que posteriormente desarrollara la técnica que ahora uso. R.C. - ¿Qué artistas y movimientos consideras que han influenciado tu camino? D.S. - Siempre me han fascinado los grandes genios, aquellos que han contribuido a crear un mundo diverso y por lo tanto mejor. Jackson Pollock es tal vez el artista, cuya vida y obra me ha interesado más. Su genialidad cambió el modo de pintar, enriqueció el legado del expresionismo abstracto. Su aporte estimuló mi imaginación y mi creatividad. Imagino el momento en el cual Pollock recibió la señal de la materia pictórica que empezó a gotear sobre el lienzo, el gesto que le siguió, el modo en que él visualizó las potencialidades de este descubrimiento, la sincronía entre el brazo, la mente y el alma del artista, el camino hacia una dimensión no explorada aún. Imagino el fuego que debe haber sentido en su interior en aquel momento catártico, la vorágine de sensaciones en el estómago y en la mente en ese momento en el cual se estaba regalando la eternidad. Sin lugar a dudas, la action painting y el dripping han contribuido de modo tal vez inconsciente a concretizar mi técnica del “branching” cerrando el círculo y dándole sentido a todo.


Ed è catarsi, le porte colorate, gli stati emozionali, la virtuale dimensione ultraterrena.

And it is the catharsis, the colorful doors, the emotional states, the virtual ultra-terrestrial dimension.

Gli elaborati e le loro intensità, le surreali architetture di un limbo astratto, punto d’ingresso del panorama onirico.

The processes and their intensity, the surrealist architecture of an abstract limbo, point of entry into daydreams.

E’ catarsi, nella perdita di gravità che distacca dal terreno, nel varco d’accesso che lascia la materia, e tutto ciò che è materiale. Il viaggio è introspettivo, leggero e intimo, intenso, un volo sul dolore tra i percorsi impervi della vita, sui ricordi.

And the catharsis, in the loss of gravity that separates from the earthly, the access breach left by matter, and all that is material. The introspective journey, weightless and intimate, intense, a flight over the pain amidst the rugged paths of life, over the memories.

Passando per gli strati dell’anima ho perlustrato i livelli emozionali, le insicurezze, mi son cercato dentro le finite angosce, ho proposto pace alle paure. E’ un percorso che va fatto in solitario, nel silenzio di una sera, nel rumore di una vita, nell’inizio, nella fine. Tutto coincide, il rumore nel silenzio, e la stasi e il movimento, l’assordante quiete di quel posto dove ogni cosa appare immobile. Mi ritrovo. Tutto è il contrario di tutto, l’alfa è l’omega, la vita, la morte, e l’inizio è pure la fine. La gravità mi abbandona, e le forze ultraterrene sono come primordiali, ma l’armonia è di luce, e la speranza prende forma nella forma del tuo credo, e io rinasco. E’ catarsi.

Passing through the strata of the soul I cleansed the emotional levels, the insecurities; I found myself immersed in infinite anguish; I proposed peace to the fear. It is a journey one takes alone, in the silence of a night, in the commotion of a life, at the beginning, at the end. Everything coincides, the noise in the silence, and the ecstasy and the movement, the deafening calm of the place in which everything appears immobile. I reengage. Everything is the opposite of everything, the alpha and the omega, life, death, and the beginning is also the end. Gravity leaves me, and the ultra-terrestrial force is primordial, but harmony is the light, and hope takes form in the form of your creed, and I am reborn. It is the catharsis.

Catarsi, Miami, Dicembre 2015. Catarsi (Catharsis), Miami, December 2015.



Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.6M, 2015, enamel on canvas, 70 x 60 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.

Ho sentito il tuo richiamo, nella luce del vento, mille sirene spiegate dentro il sole, eloquenti silenzi.

I heard your call, in the light, in the wind, a thousand sirens arrayed inside the sun, eloquent silences.

Ho visto il monte dei ricordi vacillare, e le ali dell’orgoglio sbattere nel fuggire dai morbosi affetti, per entrare nei racconti, e in un mondo di favole sospese.

I saw the pile of memories shudder, and the wings of pride beat in the flight from morbid attachments, to enter into the stories and a world of suspended fables.

Vorrei lenire il tuo dolore, tamponarti con miracolosi unguenti, e guarire i tuoi pensieri.

I would like to soothe your pain, to tampon you with miraculous unguents and heal your thoughts.

Con le storie delle canzoni portarti dentro i miei dipinti, in quel mondo surreale che ho creato per me, dove vivere è più facile, e non fa male.

With the stories of the songs contained in my paintings, in that surreal world I have made for myself, where living is easier and does not hurt.

Ci troverai la poesia, e la maga dei miei sogni. Lei si fiderà di te, donandoti segreti che a nessuno ha mai donato, i suoi magici silenzi.

There you will find the poetry and the magic of my dreams. She will trust you, revealing to you secrets she has never given to anyone, her magic silences,

E delle parole più belle riempirà le tue stanze. And the most beautiful words will fill up your rooms. Ti amerò dell’amore puro, come si ama la vita, una sorella, e l’amica. E se toccare il sole non può bruciare, ti carezzerò come si accarezza un bambino. Resterò a guardarti come si guarda un fiore, così, senza motivo, solo per stupirsi ancora. Ora le parole più belle ti appartengono, e ieri non è più, e oggi è già domani.

I will love you with pure love, as one loves life, a sister, a female friend. And if touching the sun cannot burn me, I will caress you like caressing a child. I will stand and look at you as you would look at a flower, for no reason, just to marvel again. Now the most beautiful words belong to you, yesterday is no more, and today is already tomorrow.

La tormenta guarda da lontano il nuovo giorno che rinasce, ogni giorno, nella tua corsa senza tempo, nella tua fuga dentro un sogno.

Torment looks from afar upon the new day being reborn, every day, in your race against time, in your escape inside a dream.

Il tramonto è ormai risveglio, e io, sento solo un forte sbattere di ali, dentro il sole.

Sunset had now become reawakening, and I feel just a strong beating of wings, inside the sun.

Dentro il sole, Miami, Settembre 2016.

Dentro il sole, Miami, September 2016.


Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.5M, 2015, enamel on canvas, 60 x 70 inches. Photo: Leo di Tomaso.


Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.7M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 60 x 70 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.


Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.15M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 50 x 70 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.


Era ieri, quella spinta, appena un soffio, rompe il sonno. I pensieri miei si aprono, e la musa chiama, dolcemente, categorica, irresistibile.

It was yesterday, that impulse, just a gasp, which interrupts sleep. My thoughts open up, and the muse calls, softly, emphatic, irresistible.

Mentre abbraccio il nuovo giorno con la notte che urla accanto, trovo tracce di colore, sulle mani, recente, tra le linee di saggezza del dolore dentro il tempo, che passa. Quelle strade di esperienza.

While I embrace the new day with the night howling at my side, I find traces of color, on my hands, recent, between the lines of the knowledge of pain in time, which passes. The path of experience.

I miei sistemi di coerenza e la logica giustizia hanno i piedi ancora saldi, ma il pendio del corpo sporge, sul vuoto, sopra anime erranti variegate nel colore, e io punto la meta.

My systems of coherence and logical justice still have feet in the equilibrium, but the body juts out; it hangs over the void, over errant souls motley in color, and I point out the goal.

La partenza terrena offre accesso limitato, dentro mondi sovrapposti, i percorsi di dolore, la consapevolezza, luce. Troppi varchi negati, la gravità ci trattiene e non libera il volo, ci ricorda ogni momento la condizione umana.

The worldly exit offers limited access, between overlapping worlds, the journey of pain, the conscience, the light. Too many points of access denied, gravity holds onto us and does not allow flight, a constant reminder of the human condition.

E io rompo la materia, tradizioni e prospettive, ogni residuo, convenzione. Dentro un passo inesorabile svelo l’inganno.

And I break with the material, traditions and perspectives, each remnant, convention. With an unrelenting pace, I reveal the deception.

La porta nuova, il grande buco bianco, nuove parole e ogni mezzo. Rintraccio chiavi e codici, e le dimensioni alternative si annunciano possibili, e ciò che era non è più, il campo si fa ricco. Crollano gli spazi, e pareti, mentre impossibili restano gli inganni, torti e domande, la fonte dei sussulti. E mentre scrivo, la solitudine umana mi attanaglia, compagna del mio viaggio, ma era ieri.

The new door, the white hole, new words and every medium. I trace the keys and the codes, and the alternative dimensions declare themselves possible, and that which was, no longer is; the field is made rich. The spaces and the walls collapse, while deceptions, errors and questions remain impossible, the source of shudders. And while I write, human solitude seizes me, companion of my journey, but that was yesterday.

Il Buco Bianco, Miami, Febbraio, 2016. Il Buco Bianco (The White Hole), Miami, February, 2016.



Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.8M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 70 x 60 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.

Le parole sacre di mio padre, le magnifiche inquietudini, indicibili profezie.

The sacred words of my father, magnificent anxieties, unspeakable prophecies.

La stupidità, l’arguzia, la fantasia, il bene e il male, l’odio e la violenza, tutto era previsto, e tutto lui accoglieva nella grande laguna della mente. Gli uomini tarati, quelli sani, i talentuosi, gli indigenti e gli opulenti, gli incoerenti, i coerenti, i franchi tiratori.

The stupidity, the ingenuity, the imagination, the good and the bad, the hatred and the violence, everything was foreseen, and he received it all into the great lake of the mind. The insane, the sane, the talented, the poor and the rich, the incoherent, the rational, the snipers.

E non parlava a caso mai, analizzava. E non per caso quella luce nei suoi occhi era di grigio, sapiente, da riempirsi di parole e fantasie. Era mio padre, l’uomo buono, l’eccelso scienziato, il profeta delle debolezze chiamate solitudine, di chi è per bene. Era lui la certezza, lui era l’incertezza, era Il bianco ed era il nero. Lui mi abbracciava con l’anima e non col corpo, mentre capivo il perché di quella scala, della piramide, e il senso compiuto. Chi sfida la Sfinge è un eretico diceva il sommo critico, ma il solo pensarlo è già eresia. E se la sfida è di volare, su tappeti ormai in disuso che non volano più, e con le ali di cartone, e camminare, con ali invece di cristallo che non possono bruciare, forse un giorno sposeremo il sole, senza muoverci di qui. Si quaggiù, e lui laggiù che attende, nella profonda giungla del pensiero. Attende dove scrivere non pena, dove vivere è pertinente, e pensare non fa male. Attende, perché la luce abbraccia il giorno se la notte non è buia, ma profonda. Mi attende. E nell’attesa di risposte e nell’ardore dell’attesa guardo mio padre, l’uomo buono, l’eccelso scienziato, le molteplici incoerenze, le coerenze e le eresie, profezie. Parole sacre. Sacro Padre, Miami, Febbraio 2016.

And he never spoke haphazardly; he analyzed. And it is no coincidence that the light of his eyes was gray, wise, filled with words and fantasies. He was my father, the good man, the consummate scientist, the prophet of vulnerabilities, called solitude, of one with a good heart. It was the certainty; it was the uncertainty; it was the black and the white. He hugged me with the soul and not the body, while I understood the reason for that scale, for the pyramid, the full sense. He who challenges the Sphinx is a heretic, said the great critic, but just thinking about it is already heresy. And if the challenge is to fly, on old carpets that no longer fly, and with cardboard wings, and instead to walk, with crystal wings that do not burn, perhaps one day we will marry the sun without moving from here. If here below, he is waiting there, in the profound wilderness of the mind. He waits where writing does not hurt, where living is relevant and thinking does no harm. He waits, because light embraces the day if the night is not dark, but profound. He waits for me. And in waiting for answers and in the ardor of the wait, I see my father, the good man, the consummate scientist; I see the multiple inconsistencies, the consistencies and the heresies, prophecies. Sacred words. Sacro Padre (Sacred Father), Miami, February 2016.



Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.9M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 70 x 60 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.

Piango, per il mondo in nome tuo, nel tuo nome che non hai, e piango l’uomo e il suo destino, le sue lacrime, le metastasi. Piango per le tue finestre chiuse, piango per te, con te, dio. Piango con quel dio senza uniforme, senza patria né bandiera, per quel dio che non ha nome né colore della pelle, mentre piango tra le mani, nei pensieri. Piango lacrime intonse in un abbraccio senza fine, e i mille silenzi caduti dentro il fuoco di una sera, piango, rosso, sull’uomo che deflagra nel suo credo. Piango senza tregua, e senza meta, mentre cerco in cento anni e forse mille, e poi un milione, tutto quello che non so. Piango il divino e quel che in mezzo s’interpone, per capire e rivelare quella luce, del tuo dio, del mio, senza nome. Senza Nome, Miami, Novembre 2015

I cry for the world in your name, in the name you do not have, and I cry for man and his destiny, his tears, the metastases. I cry through your closed windows; I cry for you, with you, god. I cry with that god without a uniform, without a country or flag, for that god who has no name or skin color, while I cry in my hands, in my thoughts. I cry virgin tears in an endless embrace, and the thousand silences fallen in the fire of one night; I cry, red, over the man who explodes in his creed. I cry without letup and aimlessly, while I seek in one hundred years, perhaps one thousand, and then in one million, everything I do not know. I cry the divine and that which intervenes, in order to understand and reveal that light, of your god, of mine, without a name. Senza Nome (Nameless), Miami, November 2015.


Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.13M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 60 x 60 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.




Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.16M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 70 x 60 inches (each). Photo: Antonio Vanni.

Faccio ritorno, per un solo momento, e con l’amore in spalla vedo casa, l’immotivata rabbia che circonda.

I return for a moment, and with love at my shoulder I see the house, the unfounded rage that surrounds it.

L’odio altrui che genera violenza è nell’altrui sistema, e profonda inconsapevolezza di miseria eleva templi fatiscenti, indifferenti, e solitudine.

The hatred of others that leads to violence lives in its system, and the profound ignorance of misery raises temples destroyed, indifferent, and solitude.

Ritrovo un mondo vecchio per me nuovo, ormai diverso, che non è più, e che scivola nel dolce pendio degli occhi miei. Compassionevole guardo.

I reencounter an ancient world, for me new, now different, which no longer exists, which glides on the smooth slope of my eyes. I observe with compassion.

E tutto ciò che ancora vive, oggi muore, e tutto quel che fa più male non fa più male, la vacuità.

And everything that still lives, today dies, and everything that did the most harm, no longer does it, the void.

E tutto ciò che è verità è di chi resta, senza luce, se la parola è di chi non parla ormai da tempo.

And everything that is true is for those who remain, without light, if the word is from the one who has not spoken for ages.

Guardo dentro, e scruto, dentro il buio che sostiene il nulla e nel nulla che si sostiene, guardo dentro. E piango lacrime ormai asciutte e parole sparse al vento, malinconici sorrisi. Il mio agio è solitudine, e la crisi necessaria, un’occasione unica. La prendo.

I look inside, and I proceed inside of the darkness that sustains the void, and the void is sustained; I look inside. And I cry dry tears and words strewn in the wind, melancholic smiles. My home is the solitude, and the crisis necessary, a unique opportunity. I take it.

E ora, che oggi non è più ieri ma che forse è già domani, torno indietro. E con l’amore in spalla faccio ritorno al nuovo mondo, quello vero. Casa, lontano.

And now, that today is no longer yesterday but perhaps already tomorrow, I return. And with love at my shoulder I return to the new world, the true one. Home, far away.

Il Nuovo Mondo, Napoli, Gennaio 2016

Il Nuovo Mondo (The New World), Naples, January 2016.


Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.11M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 60 x 80 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.


Solo, in mezzo al mondo, ammalato d’inquietudine mi oriento. E vivo in mezzo agli altri dentro cerchi solitari, mentre trovo ogni risposta nel mio centro, e assorbo.

Alone, in the midst of the world, sick with worry, I orient myself. And I live in the midst of others within circles of solitude, while in my core I find and absorb each answer.

E’ l’universo che infonde, e passando dentro me porta il tormento, il dolore, l’allegria, il bene e il male, bianco, nero, e in mezzo il resto.

And the universe that inspires, and passing through me it brings torment, pain, happiness, the good and the bad, the black and the white, and in between the rest of it.

Tra le anime sopite e quelle deste sospese sul perenne dubbio di quel viaggio, tra il fare bene e il fare male, tra quelle bianche e quelle nere, copro il mio percorso che è di tutti, purgatorio, Apocalisse.

Among the dormant souls, and those suspended in the eternal uncertainty of that journey, between doing good and doing evil, between the black and the white, I cover my route that is for all purgatory, the Apocalypse.

Come cronista sul mio tempo mi racconto, e l’anima, che è setaccio di dolore, filtra ogni cosa.

As a chronicler of my time I narrate, and the soul, which is a sifter for the pain, filters each thing.

Tra le maglie solo piccole molecole cui bisogna sopravvivere, ma non fan paura. La resilienza mi aiuta a superare il guado, senza annegare, il promontorio, senza arrestare, il crepuscolo. E vedo luce.

Through the strainer, only small molecules should survive, but they don’t cause fear. Resilience helps me to conquer the ford without drowning, the promontory without stopping, nightfall. And I see lights.

Tra il Bianco e il Nero, Napoli, Dicembre 2015.

Tra il Bianco e il Nero (Between Black and White), Naples, December 2015.



Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.17M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 55 x 55 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.

Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.12M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 30 x 50 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.


Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.3M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 60 x 60 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.


44 Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.10M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 70 x 30 inches (each). Photo: Antonio Vanni.


Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.19M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 70 x 60 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.

Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.20M, 2016, enamel on canvas, 60 x 70 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.



Diego Santanelli, Apocalypse zero.17MM, enamel on canvas, 80 x 40 inches. Photo: Antonio Vanni.


Diego Santanelli was born on January 8, 1965 in Naples, Italy. He began his creative journey at a very early age. He is self-taught, sustained by his exploration and experimentation with various pictorial techniques. In 2008, after years of practicing medicine, he decided to focus full-time on his artwork. In April 2009, he exhibited a series of works that he called “spatulas” at the Galería Maninni in Naples. Subsequently, in May 2009 he exhibited in Paris at the Espace Pierre Cardin, where he officially presented his series “Hiddenart,” a collection of works that were based on a combination of collages and thermosensitive enamels. His current series, “Apocalypse,” arose in 2013, as a result of his experimentation with different materials during the development of his prior series, “Hiddenart.” Santanelli lived and worked in Paris for several years. He has exhibited his work at Chavals de Sable (June 2009); Grand Palais (November 2010); and Hippopotamus (December 2010)–– where he was an invited artist at the Wilson Balda Show. He has also exhibited at the Maison de Van Gogh Museum (Auverssur-Oise) in February 2010, as well as the Galerie de Medicis and at the Circle Jobart Barjot in March 2010. During the time that he lived in Paris, he also exhibited in his native country at the Museo Diocesano in Mantua (December 2009); Chartreuse in Capri (June 2009); Castel dell’Ovo in Naples (January 2010); Salon of the Congress in Portocervo (May 2010); and Museo delle Catacombe in San Genaro, Naples on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of the unification of Italy. In addition, he has exhibited at the Museum Saint Rita (September 2011); Pirelli skyscraper in Milan on the occasion of Salone del Mobile (November 2011);

ArteFiera in Bologna (January 2012); Palazzo Ducale di Ferrara (March 2013); at the Castle of Saint George, in Mantua (October 2014); Posillipo Theater in Naples (March 2015); and Palazzo Ceriana-Mayneri in Turin (June 2015). His work has also been exhibited internationally at the International Art Centre of Dubai (April 2010); Sao Paulo International Art Fair (April 2011); Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem (June 2012); Museum of Modern Art in Dubrovnick, Croatia (September 2013); Deichtorhallen in Hamburg (November 2013); Messe Wien Exhibition & Congress Center in Vienna (March 2014); Art Palm Beach (January 2016); and Art Boca Raton (March 2016). His works form part of both private and institutional collections in Paris (Espace Pierre Cardin), Milan (Mario Valentino Collection), Museum Maison Van Gogh (Auvers-sur-Oise, France), Rome (Renato Zero Collection), Mantua (Museo Diocesano) and Dubrovnick (Umjetnika Museum of Modern Art), as well as in private collections in Dubai, Sao Paulo, Berlin, Munich, Hamburg, Vienna, Dublin, London, Jerusalem, Beijing and in his native country. In 2010, his work was auctioned off by the auction house Pandolfini (Florence, Italy). His oeuvre has been reviewed by a variety of publications, including Flash Art, Radio Antena Uno, Corriere del Mezzogiorno, La Repubblica, Il Mattino, Napoli Flash 24, Il SudOnline, Tiscali, The Travel News, France Soir, Diario Partenopeo, Chiaia Magazine, Il Velino Campania, Il Roma, Il Denaro and Il Messaggero, among others. Santanelli lives and works in Miami Beach, Fla.


Diego Santanelli Nace el 8 de enero de 1965 en Nápoles, Italia. Comenzó su trayectoria creativa a muy temprana edad. Su formación ha transcurrido de manera autodidacta, sustentada en su exploración y experimentación con varias técnicas pictóricas. En 2008, luego de años de dedicarse a la medicina, decidió enfocarse por completo en su obra. En abril de 2009, expuso una serie de creaciones que él llamó “spatulas” en la Galería Maninni, en Nápoles. Posteriormente, en mayo de 2009, exhibió en París, en el Espace Pierre Cardin, donde presentó oficialmente su serie “Hiddenart”, un conjunto de trabajos que se basaban en la combinación de collages y de esmaltes termosensibles. Su serie actual, “Apocalypse”, nació en 2013, como resultado de sus experimentaciones con diferentes materiales durante el proceso de desarrollo de sus anteriores series (“Hiddenart”). Diego Santanelli residió y trabajó en París por varios años. Ha exhibido su obra en Chavals de Sable (junio 2009), Grand Palais (noviembre 2010); Hippopotamus (diciembre 2010)––donde fue artista invitado al Wilson Balda Show. Además, ha exhibido en la Maison de Van Gogh Museum (Auvers-sur-Oise) en febrero de 2010, así como en la Galerie de Medicis y en el Circle Jobart Barjot, en marzo de 2010. Durante el tiempo que residió en París, exhibió también en su país natal en el Museo Diocesano, en Mantua (diciembre de 2009), en la Chartreuse, en Capri (en junio de 2009) y en el Castel dell’ Ovo, en Nápoles (en enero de 2010). También en el Salone dei Congressi, de Portocervo (mayo de 2010); en el Museo delle Catacombe (San Genaro, Nápoles), con motivo del 150 aniversario de la unificación de Italia. Además, ha exhibido en el Museum Saint Rita (septiembre de 2011); en el rascacielos Pirelli, en Milan, en ocasión del Salone


del Mobile (noviembre de 2011); en la ArteFiera, en Boloña (enero de 2012); en el Palazzo Ducale di Ferrara (marzo de 2013); en el Castel of Saint George, en Mantua (octubre de 2014); en el Posillipo Theater, Nápoles (marzo 2015) y en el Palazzo Ceriana-Mayneri, en Turin (junio de 2015). Su trabajo también ha sido exhibido internacionalmente en el International Art Centre of Dubai (abril de 2010); Sao Paulo International Art Fair (abril de 2011); la Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem (junio de 2012); Museum of Modern Art, en Dubrovnick (septiembre de 2013); Deichtorhallen, en Hamburg (noviembre de 2013); Messe Wien Exhibition & Congress Center, Vienna (marzo de 2014), en Art Palm Beach (enero de 2016) y en Art Boca Raton (marzo de 2016). Su obra forma parte de colecciones tanto privadas como institucionales en París (Espace Pierre Cardin), Milán (Colección de Mario Valentino), Auvers-sur-Ois, France (Museum Maison Van Gogh), Roma, (Colección Renato Zero), Mantua (Museo Diocesano), Dubrovnick (Umjetnika Museum of Modern Art), así como en colecciones privadas en Dubai, Sao Paulo, Berlin, Munich, Hamburg, Vienna, Dublin, London, Jerusalem, Beijing y en su país natal. En 2010 su obra fue subastada por Pandolfini (Florencia, Italia). Ha sido reseñado por publicaciones como Flash Art, Radio Antena Uno, Corriere del mezzogiorno, La Repubblica, Il Mattino, Napoli Flash 24, Il SudOnline, Tiscali, The Travel News, France Soir, Diario Partenopeo, Chiaia Magazine, Il Velino Campania, Il Roma, Il Denaro, Il Messaggero, entre otros. Diego Santanelli reside y trabaja en Miami Beach, FL.

Raisa Clavijo is an art critic, curator and art historian. She is founder and editor-in-chief of ARTPULSE and ARTDISTRICTS magazines. Clavijo has a B.A. in art history from the University of Havana and a master’s degree in museum studies from the Universidad Iberoamericana in Mexico City. Former chief curator at Museo Arocena in Mexico (2002 – 2006), she founded Wynwood: The Art Magazine, in Miami, where she worked as editor from 2007 to 2009. Currently she heads ARTIUM Publishing. Raisa Clavijo es curadora, historiadora y crítica de arte. Es fundadora y editora general de las revistas ARTPULSE y ARTDISTRICTS. Es egresada de la Licenciatura en Historia del Arte (Universidad de La Habana) y de la Maestría en Museología (Universidad Iberoamericana, Mexico D.F.). Fue Directora de Curaduría del Museo Arocena en México entre 2002 y 2006. En 2007 funda en Miami la revista Wynwood: The Art Magazine en la que fungió como editora hasta 2009. Actualmente dirige ARTIUM Publishing.


institutional partner


VERDE pantone 347C C100 M0 Y100 K0 R0 G141 B58

BIANCO C0 M0 Y0 K0 R255 G255 B255

BIANCO C0 M0 Y0 K0 R255 G255 B255

NERO C0 M0 Y0 K100 R0 G0 B0

logistic partner



NERO C0 M0 Y0 K100 R0 G0 B0

146 Madeira Avenue Coral Gables, FL 33134 (786) 615 2622

Resilience by Diego Santanelli  

Diego Santanelli presents his most recent series titled "Apocalypse" at Canale Diaz Art Center from April 08 to June 25, 2016. Resilience i...

Resilience by Diego Santanelli  

Diego Santanelli presents his most recent series titled "Apocalypse" at Canale Diaz Art Center from April 08 to June 25, 2016. Resilience i...