THEN I BECAME A STONE. Opening of the exibition

From the speed and pervasiveness of a hyperconnected world to an artistic practice that turns towards a deep and courageous exploration of personal experience and the complexity of emotions. Manuela Scannavini’s gaze turns to Nature, a source of renewal and solace that continually reveals itself anew to her, becoming the lifeblood of her art.

Among the elements of nature is the stone. To become a stone is to find a place to be, to listen and to let the world resonate within. This exploration also stems from the artist’s encounter with writer Giulio Marzaioli and his themes: mutability, silence and the possibility of rediscovering one’s inner centre. It informs the selection of works for the exhibition “Then I Became a Stone”, hosted in Andrea Bottai’s studio. 

Born in Rome in 1970, Scannavini is a sociologist whose artistic practice moves between abstraction and conceptual approaches, encompassing painting, printmaking and mixed media. The stone evoked by the title thus becomes a space for quiet reflection, from which to venture out and encounter the world once more.

Ciao Fausto!

Some places preserve an artist’s presence even after they have passed away: in their works, in the memories of those who welcomed them, in shared gestures and in the encounters that shaped their work. For Fausto Delle Chiaie, Andrea Bottai’s workshop on Via dei Cappellari in Rome was one such place: a space for creativity, friendship and interaction with the public.

For Andrea Bottai, this exhibition also marks a poignant moment in the workshop’s history. For many years, Fausto Delle Chiaie, whether in person or through his works, was a constant presence in Pian dé Giullari’s exhibition programme, becoming part of the life of the place even when exhibitions featured other artists. “Allora mi sono fatta sasso” (“Then I Became a Stone”) is the first exhibition in a long time devoted to an artist with whom Fausto never had the chance to meet or share a creative exchange. The wish to dedicate a “Ciao Fausto” to him also stems from this absence: from the need to make room for him once again in the workshop he was part of for so long. Dear Fausto,  we know you are watching over us, with your ever-present curiosity. From 'base-camp', we will continue to follow your lead, looking  upwards with wit and a lightness of spirit.