A colourful poster: four figures rendered unrecognisable by helmets and protective masks, and a title: Work in Progress. Work Done. (Opus Perfectum)
I closed my eyes for a moment and, through one of those strange associations not uncommon in someone who, like me, loves theatre, cinema and literature, the onomatopoeic sound of that word “done” became the tolling of the bell that, in a scene from the famous film Gone with the Wind, marks the end of the working day for the field workers on the O'Hara plantation.
The end of the day, but not the end of the work. The work is still in progress. It will continue tomorrow.
And just as the work of those who cultivate the land never truly ends, neither does the work of those who write or paint. There is always another word, another brushstroke…
And that is when I said to myself: Primo Levi titled his story of the skilled worker Faussone The Wrench. The worker and his tool are inseparable: Faussone, the rigger, and his wrench. There is always another bolt to check…
And so it is with the painter and the brush. Standing before the finished painting, the artist notices something… and with the brush, adjusts, removes, adds… Finally, the artist forces themselves to stop, takes the painting off the easel and walks away.
But something remains: a strange restlessness, a subtle dissatisfaction. The artist returns, places the painting back on the easel and picks up that metaphorical wrench - the brush.
Looking at the painting, head tilted slightly to one side, the artist checks a metaphorical bolt.
Should it be tightened a little? Loosened?
And the brush begins to move again. Work in progress.
While that word “done” tells us it can never truly be “work completed.”
Post
Story
Whatsapp