There’s a line in the 1964 Italian art-house classic; The Red Desert, where Monica Vitti’s character declares:
“There's something terrible about reality and I don't know what it is. No one will tell me.”
The awkward 4th addition to Michaelangelo Antonioni’s trilogy about modern alienation makes for an uneasy watch. It was his first in colour and its painterly scenes mostly take place around heavily industrialized factories, smoke stacks and weird sheds.
Antonioni’s penchant for long takes, disjointed narratives and a focus on the banal existed in stark contrast to the flamboyance of Fellini’s dream-like cinema.
His films are about the bourgeoisie coming to terms with the meaninglessness of their pursuits and thinking.
For Antonioni, the surroundings were key to his character’s uncovering this new reality- whether it’s a picturesque island or an industrial estate – in these places they would cast off their rules and reasoning.
Because as we know, reality can be somewhat unsettling.
Some four years after the release of The Red Desert, an art movement bubbled up in Italy, and in particular, the industrialized north. It was called “Arte Povera” – that’s “Poor Art”.
Like Antonioni’s films, it represented a radical and unconventional approach to the mainstream, focusing on the everyday, aspects of nature and industry intertwined and utilized simple objects and messages.
The debris of life in Italy was to form much of the raw materials used in the creation of “Arte Povera” – befitting the movement’s name. Steel wool, bed sheets, lettuce and old newspapers, slate, wax, coal, water, neon, earth, fire and felt.
Two of the key artists involved with the movement were a couple called Mario and Marisa Merz. Despite her prolific work, Marisa was intitially celebrated for just being a woman.
The scene was dominated by men.
But Marisa knocked it out of the park on her first try, at the group’s very first exhibition in 1967. She presented an untitled floating installation hung from the ceiling, entirely made of reclaimed and folded aluminum strips.
The biomorphic structure is regarded as one of the strongest works of the genre, and was made in the small apartment home she shared with Mario.
In another piece that was so evocative of the group’s philosophy Marisa presented “Scarpette” (little shoes) a striking, yet delicate installation on the exhibition’s beach site.
Composed of a pair of ballet flats that resemble the structure of natural sea sponges, but are made of synthetic nylon and copper wire.
Further accentuating their fragility, the slippers were placed closer to the sea.
A Cinderella reference perhaps, and one that reminds us of how precarious our own lives are. The simple, uncomplicated materials of modern life once again reflect back to us truths about the world that we are living in.
At any moment, we could be swept away.
Despite being so important to the movement, Marisa’s involvement was pretty marginalized. Sad really, especially considering the phrase “Arte Povera” was literally coined in her kitchen – the room that would become the crucible of much of her work.
“I’m not interested in power or in career; only myself and the world interest me. I can do little, very little. I am battling against malice and competition. I cannot escape the reality I see.” – Marisa Merz
Looking back though, many experts have concluded her to be a superior artist compared to her male counterparts.
The lightness of her approach, lending her artworks an almost magical quality, set them apart from the somewhat intellectually overloaded works of the male majority.
Marisa explains it all
Ok – I know what you’re going to say,
“But Jonathan, aren’t all ads are rubbish?”
Tee-hee-hee. Well if you’ve been following the Oatly discourse for the last week or so you’ll know the debate is alive and well.
N.B. For those who have only just realised that Oatly have in fact been doing nauseatingly smug and annoying ads for years – welcome!
But, some creative is quite literally rubbish.
And that makes it great.
Upcycled mattresses 🛏️
Plastic fantastic 🏄♂️
Salvaged denim 👖
Wise old wrappers 🍬
Old tech recycles itself 📺
Or recycle an old advert and turn it into a new one – because, recycling!
We’re tra-a-ash you and me, we’re the litter on the breeze…
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Thanks for reading,
Jonathan ✌️
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