MALE MALE MALEN PITTURA MASCHIO MASCHIO
Jacopo Miliani
Marsèlleria
“Remember those walls I built? Well, baby they’re tumbling down And they didn’t even put up a fight They didn’t even make a sound” Beyoncé Knowles, Ryan Tedder, E. Kidd Bogart
CONFESSIONI DI UNO SPECCHIO Francesco Urbano Ragazzi
> Il conto Ho deciso di rispondere. Di andare fino in fondo a quella domanda e di dire tutta la verità. Nient’altro che la mia verità. A volte le domande sono delle occasioni e non vanno perse. Prenderò la parola e sarà una cosa molto concreta. Un’azione più che un discorso. Uno scambio di liquidi. E la paura del silenzio si farà più leggera. Sentirò scorrere via tutta la rabbia e la sopraffazione. Sarà come il pianto di un neonato. La gola e il cuore in un unico canale, il volto acceso, e la testa pesante attaccata al collo. Con gli occhi spalancati e la pancia che lentamente si stacca. E allora il mio sguardo traballante cercherà un nuovo punto di appoggio. Un cavalletto a cui agganciarsi per continuare le riprese. Starà fermo li per un po’. A guardare, a farsi vedere per quello che è.
> Pierrot mon ami Pierrot SUZUKI: Izaghi ed Izanami Sarundasico e Kami... Oh! la mia testa! E tu Ten-Sjoo-daj! Fate che Butterfly non pianga più, mai più, mai più. BUTTERFLY: Pigri e obesi son gli dèi giapponesi. L’americano iddio son persuasa, ben più presto risponde a chi l’implori. Ma temo ch’egli ignori che noi stiam qui di casa. Suzuki, è lungi la miseria? SUZUKI: Questo l’ultimo fondo. BUTTERFLY: Questo? Oh! Troppe spese! SUZUKI: S’egli non torna e presto, siamo male in arnese. BUTTERFLY: Ma torna. SUZUKI: Tornerà! BUTTERFLY: Perché dispone
che il Console provveda alla pigione, rispondi, su! Perché con tante cure la casa rifornì di serrature, s’ei non volesse ritornar mai più? SUZUKI: Non lo so. BUTTERFLY: Non lo sai? Io te lo dico. Per tener ben fuori le zanzare, i parenti ed i dolori e dentro, con gelosa custodia, la sua sposa che son io: Butterfly. SUZUKI: Mai non s’è udito di straniero marito che sia tornato al nido. BUTTERFLY: Taci, o t’uccido. Quell’ultima mattina: tornerete signor? ~ gli domandai. Egli, col cuore grosso, per celarmi la pena sorridendo rispose: «O Butterfly piccina mogliettina, tornerò colle rose alla stagion serena, quando fa la nidiata il pettirosso.» E tornerà. SUZUKI: Speriam. BUTTERLFLY: Dillo con me: tornerà. SUZUKI: Tornerà... (scoppia in pianto) [Madama Butterfly, di Giacomo Puccini, testi di Luigi Illica e Giuseppe Giacosa]
> Sensu hige / In cinque giorni svuotai l’intera casa e la pulii a fondo. Lavai via tutto lo sporco di quegli anni. Gli armadi, il frigorifero, il forno, le librerie, i comodini, le cassettiere, la dispensa, il tavolo, l’appendiabiti erano di nuovo liberi. Eliminai ogni singolo oggetto, la sua polvere, il suo peso, la sua ombra. Non c’era più traccia della nostra vita. Quelle cose di sempre erano definitivamente scomparse: andate via come se un tornado fosse passato e le avesse inghiottite.
L’appartamento era tornato a splendere: era talmente vuoto che si poteva sentirne l’eco. Non aveva più neanche un odore. Dormii lì per un’ultima notte. Tenni la finestra aperta e mi stesi sul divano. Chiusi gli occhi e mi lasciai accompagnare dalla brezza estiva e dalle macchine che scorrevano. Mi svegliai con le prime luci del giorno. Rassettai il divano, chiusi la finestra e mi chiusi la porta dietro per l’ultima volta. Aspettai in macchina all’angolo della strada con gli occhi fissi sullo specchietto retrovisore. All’improvviso lo vidi finalmente comparire nella mia visuale. Mi arrestai, e senza mai girarmi aspettai di veder dissolvere la sua immagine nel portone. Accesi la macchina e lo immaginai salire le scale. Mentre apriva la porta ero già sulla strada che mi avrebbe portato qui.
> Mommy, I stopped drinking I’m Pierrot. I’m Everyman. What I’m doing is theatre, and only theatre. What you see on stage isn’t sinister. It’s pure clown. I’m using myself as a canvas and trying to paint the truth of our time. [David Bowie, Daily Express, 5 Maggio 1976]
LAUTMALEREI Lautmalerei Lautmalerei LAUTMALEREI Denudati per me, dipinto di suono. Sguscia via Sfruscia di lato Schiacciami.
LOUder and louDER Togliti le vesti I doppi sensi Le maschere Il trucco. Nudo. Ti voglio nudo. Lautmalerei (ted.) = Onomatopea (it.) s. f. Composto di “Laut” <suono> + Malerei <dipinto> Letteralmente “Dipinto di suono”
Che bello accarezzare la pelle d’oca delle tue parole, Gli spigoli gutturali della M, La morbidezza curva della a: Aperta
Sara Giannini
Ciccia Che piacere gelido bere cocktail con tanti cubetti di UUUUUUU (…) Scivolo sopra il nero lucido dell’inchiostro Indossando guanti di seta bianca. Provo a sgrammaticare via quello smalto glossy black, Per vedere la tua carne rossa, o più probabilmente magical magenta. Magenta, tocco il tuo profumo di maggio. I miei guanti sono sporchi di pelle di inchiostro, L’odore dell’inchiostro è cupo e penetrante, E’ una droga dal sapore verde acido.
Via i guanti, via la pelle. Scratch! Scratch! Scratch! Il Magenta è lì, un po’ deforme, un po’ liquido. Vivo. E’ una R. Chiudo gli occhi e seguo la linea serpentina, Come una lingua lunga e languida, Come una chiacchiera sibilata. Ti bacio. Lingua tocca lingua, Lingua parla lingua, Lingua materna, Lingua magenta, Lingua altra. Very linguisticamente, Noi ci baciamo. Sessualmente, Noi sinestetici. Oh No Ma To Pe I Ah
Punto interrogativo Dove sei ?
FROM THIS TO THAT: performativity, language and translation João Mourão and Luís Silva
#1: The mime A mime picks up a small abstract painting from a group of similar paintings hanging on the wall. He shows the squared canvas to the audience while his expressionless white face starts to change. It is hard to identify the emotion portrayed by his face since it remains obtuse, borderline cryptic. It is not joy, nor sadness, nor anger. It is not fear nor doubt. It is impossible to translate his facial expression into an emotion. One would dare to say it is an abstract facial expression. A facial expression just as abstract as the painting he holds in his hands. And as soon as one realizes that, something fundamental happens: the understanding that something connects the mime’s expression and the painting he is showing to the audience. They are one and the same thing. The medium may be different, the language may be different as well, but what the mime is doing is interpreting the idea of abstraction present in the painting and translating it to the audience through his own way of engaging with the world around him: facial expression and body language. One has learned how to read the mime.
#2: The Pierrot Three Pierrots move around the exhibition space wearing nothing but sneakers, their white faces contrasting with the youthful and tanned tone of their skin. They are naked, exposed, and their bareness is only momentarily concealed by the odd, circular black painting each one of them is holding, reminiscent of the buttons adorning the loose white blouse that has become the quintessential Pierrot attire. This monochrome paintings translate ‘Commedia dell’arte’ into art history and the pantomime trope of the sad clown into that of the objectification of the male body, into that of homoerotic desire, multiplied threefold. The actions undertaken by the three youthful Pierrots as well as their body language are not specific and they are let to be looked at one’s will. One’s gaze can linger on a set of thighs, or on a pair of nipples. One can compare their physical attributes and pick a favorite. One can imagine closeness and even intimacy. They are not subjects in the language of desire, only objects of that same language.
#3: The geisha A geisha is a traditional Japanese female entertainer whose skills include performing numerous arts such as classical music, dance, games and conversation. In the exhibition space a white-faced geisha picks up a triangular painting from a group of similar paintings on the wall and uses it as a fan. The seemingly traditional, even exotic nature of what is happening takes a turn for the queer when one realizes that the triangular expressionist painting is not simply a fan, a regular prop in this hostess’s act. Instead it depicts a full beard, mustache included, a token of not only maleness but of male dignity, experience and power, of alpha-maleness, one would dare say. This geisha is now in drag and she has gone from performing gentleness, subserviency and grace to inhabiting a contested position of apparent gender fluidity.
Epilogue: The cocktail Bloody Mary, Cosmopolitan, Manhattan, Gin Tonic, Negroni, Blue Hawaii and Margarita. These are the cocktails that Antonietta Federici, Jacopo Miliani’s mother, painted at her son’s request. The images were found online and then painted on canvas. Not unlikely the other paintings in the show, which will carry with them, literally on their back, the memory of the process of performative translation which took place during the opening, these cocktail paintings, aptly titled “Mommy, I stopped drinking”, will not perform on their own. Each of them, from the Italian Negroni to the more tropical Margarita, are conceived and presented as diptychs. Next to the painting made by the artist’s mother one can always find a painting by Miliani himself made by staining a canvas with the actual cocktail the title of the diptych refers to. The performative gesture thus enables Miliani not only to translate, but to go back and forth, at his will, between representation of an object, either its image or the language that enables him to address it, and the object itself, whether that is the cocktail infusing and staining a blank canvas, a mime’s facial expression, three Pierrots’ naked bodies or a geisha’s beard.
“A parer nostro, i veri travestiti sono le persone <<normali>>: come l’eterosessualità assoluta che tanto sbandierano maschera la disponibilità polimorfa e purtroppo inibita del loro desiderio, così gli abiti standard, Standa o Montenapo, nascondono e avviliscono l’essere umano mirabile che giace in loro represso. Il nostro travestitismo è condannato poiché getta in faccia a tutti la realtà funesta del generale travestitismo, che deve restare taciuto, tacitamente scontato. Lungi dall’essere particolarmente buffo, il travestito denuncia quanto tragicamente ridicola sia la stragrande maggioranza delle persone, nelle loro divise mostruose da maschio o da <<donna>>. Avete mai fatto un <<viaggio>> in metrò? Come scrissi una volta << se il travestito appare ridicolo a chi lo incontra, tristemente ridicolissima è per il travestito la nudità di chi vestito tout court, gli rida in faccia>>.” Da Elementi di Critica Omosessuale Mario Mieli Einaudi, Torino 1977
IL CONTO Antipasto, 2016 (Starter, 2016) Oil on canvas and Polaroid 27x32 cm
Secondo, 2016 (Main course, 2016) Oil on canvas and Polaroid 26x30 cm
Pasta, 2016 (Pasta, 2016) Oil on canvas and Polaroid 27x32 cm
Dolce, 2016 (Dessert, 2016) Oil on canvas and Polaroid 26x31 cm
Contorno, 2016 (Side, 2016) Oil on canvas and Polaroid 26x31 cm
Vino, 2016 (Wine, 2016) Oil on canvas and Polaroid 25x30 cm
“Gay and bisexual men talk about the gay community as a significant source of stress in their lives,” Pachankis says. The fundamental reason for this, he says, is that “in-group discrimination” does more harm to your psyche than getting rejected by members of the majority. It’s easy to ignore, roll your eyes and put a middle finger up to straight people who don’t like you because, whatever, you don’t need their approval anyway. Rejection from other gay people, though, feels like losing your only way of making friends and finding love. Being pushed away from your own people hurts more because you need them more.
PIERROT MON AMI PIERROT
The researchers I spoke to explained that gay guys inflict this kind of damage on each other for two main reasons. The first, and the one I heard most frequently, is that gay men are shitty to each other because, basically, we’re men. “The challenges of masculinity get magnified in a community of men,” Pachankis says. “Masculinity is precarious. It has to be constantly enacted or defended or collected. We see this in studies: You can threaten masculinity among men and then look at the dumb things they do. They show more aggressive posturing, they start taking financial risks, they want to punch things.” From TOGETHER ALONE The Epidemic of Gay Loneliness Michael Hobbes March 2017 http://highline.huffingtonpost.com/articles/en/gay-loneliness/
Pierrot, 2017 Acrylic on canvas, photograph 40 cm Ø Petit Pouce, 2017 Acrylic on canvas, photograph 40 cm Ø Paradis, 2017 Acrylic on canvas, photograph 40 cm Ø
“froufrou • Pronunciation: fru-fru Meaning: 1. A swishing sound like that of rustling silk or satin. 2. Frilly, showy ornamentation, such as knick-knacks in a home or accessories on a dress. From French, the word is an example of onomatopoeia. In 19th century Paris, women’s dresses were often made of several layers of such materials as satin or silk that rustled when the women who wore them moved. The word froufrou was the French attempt at imitating that sound. When the word arrived in England, it first meant “rustling”, but later took on the second meaning above, “frilly, show ornamentation”.
SENSU HIGE
Urban: (adj) describing something that has a homosexual resemblance (mainly in males)” From www.alphadictionary.com Dr. Goodword May 2017
Satomi, 2017 Blue and yellow ink on silk and photograph 57x62 cm Mirko, 2017 Red and yellow ink on silk and photograph 45x48 cm
Toni, 2017 Purple and green ink on silk and photograph 50x 45 cm Steve, 2017 Black and blue ink on silk and photograph 50x58 cm Matt, 2017 Red and pink ink on silk and photograph 56x40 cm
“The craving for sweets, alcohol or tobacco is often due to the desire to satisfy the erotogenetic zone of the mouth, and it is my experience that such craving very frequently accompanies fellatio, the desire for which has obvious unconscious reference to the mother’s nipple, and is only another proof of the large part a motherfixation can play both in homosexuality and alcoholism.”
MOMMY I STOPPED DRINKING
From Homosexuality as a cause of Alcoholism, Robert M. Riggall (1923) edited by Israelstam S, Lambert S., The International Journal of Addictions, Ontario, 1983
Antonietta Federici and Jacopo Miliani
Bloody Mary, 2017 Oil on canvas Tomato juice, lemon juice, Vodka, pepper, Tabasco and celery salt on silk 30x40 cm (each) Cosmopolitan, 2017 Oil on canvas Vodka, Cointreau, lime juice and cranberry juice on silk 30x40 cm (each) Manhattan, 2017 Oil on canvas Rye whiskey, red vermouth and Angostura on silk 30x40 cm (each)
Gin Tonic, 2017 Oil on canvas Gin and tonic water on silk 30x40 cm (each) Negroni, 2017 Oil on Canvas Gin, Campari and red vermouth on silk 30x40 cm (each) Margarita, 2017 Oil on canvas Tequila, lime juice, Cointreau and salt on silk 30x40 cm (each) Blue Hawaii, 2017 Oil on canvas Curaçao, Vodka and Rum on silk 30x40 cm (each)
Cover: Antonietta Federici Miliani, Gin Tonic, 2017 Oil on Canvas 30x40 cm
May-June 2017
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