Giovanni Fattori
Cavallo Morto

If there's a reason that makes me sympathize with Giovanni Fattori, aside from a genuine appreciation for his works, it's that the painter from Livorno always refused to constrain his modus operandi within rigid theoretical schematics. Not that this attitude was the height of originality, but for someone who wanted to «put on canvas the physical and moral sufferings of everything that unfortunately happens», it would have been, at the very least, limiting. Yet, in disregard of purists, Fattori became the leading representative of the Macchiaioli, probably the most important Italian painting movement of the 19th century.  

I liked Fattori right from the start. I thought it was rather curious that at school, where for many of my teachers the inflexible adherence to program regularity seemed the only way to legitimize their salary, they propagated the thoughts and works of someone who disdained theoretical learning and discipline, in favor of spontaneity, inspiration, and free observation. I considered it a small victory, for whatever it was worth. And I, a self-taught multi-instrumentalist from a young age, allergic to any musical theory manual, saw myself in this approach and couldn't help but be fascinated by it.

It's true that behind the term "macchia" there is necessarily a theorization, but in the end, what theory could truly describe the "physical and moral sufferings" mentioned above better than life itself? Perhaps to have a clear perception of it, we should first consult expert opinions or embrace a school of thought uncritically?

Someone should try to explain in technical terms to the poor old protagonist of the painting "Cavallo Morto" what suffering is.

Despite the dispiriting visual stillness, "Cavallo Morto" is a conceptually dynamic work, in which the depicted moment is merely a dramatic snapshot of an entire life marked by suffering. Behind the power of the image lies a fate that spares no one and does not hesitate to lash out against an old man who spent his entire life in hardship and completely devoted to work. Who knows how many years he traveled that desolate road with his horse, under rain or scorching sun. And who knows if at home, at the end of an exhausting day, a nice hot soup awaited him. The death of the horse, a companion of life and an indispensable resource for his work, abruptly interrupts that routine which was both exhausting and reassuring. The animal suddenly collapses to the ground, leaving the farmer in the middle of an endless space, literally at the center of nowhere, which for a tired and ailing old man equals being entombed alive. We don't know if the two were on their way back or if the workday had just begun; whatever the direction, it is now unreachable due to the unforeseen grounding. As if that weren't enough, the sky clouds up at the horizon, foretelling a storm. The poor man appears overwhelmed and bewildered, as if barely able to comprehend what had happened.  

This is where the painter deems it appropriate to stop, with a "photographic" timing. He seems to want to capture this distressing situation before the viewer's empathetic involvement becomes too harrowing. After the initial disorientation, indeed, the awareness of being alone in the world would have surfaced, and that no one would come to rescue him, especially not with a deluge on the way.

And now that work, affections, and energies are gone, it's just as well to sit, lie down. Not to wait, but to rest, perhaps permanently, in the hope that fate, in the meantime, has had its fun.