•
Rating: The black and white of Gianluca Lerici has managed to deeply probe the human soul, without arrogance or delusions of grandeur, like a true artist. His journey, his travels, have led him to explore islands of knowledge that initially were not present on the map of his palette. He forcefully brought out from the blank page the most ancient archetypes present in the human being, such as the greatest fears inherent in each of our unconscious. He projected them in a distorted way into a futuristic world. He gave them their own, subjective form.
He did it with irony, as if to signify that the discovery was unintended and it was not even necessary to give it too much weight. He was a practical man, quick to produce and think, with a perpetual sneer stamped on his face. Art took him far with lightness, despite his decisive, surgical incision-like stroke.
This is not merely a futuristic vision of Prof. Bad Trip, except perhaps on a superficial level. His work, which might have seemed an exaggerated dystopia, has changed face since our ancient self is awakening. This jumble of freaks, gigantic eyes, drugs in abundance, assorted hallucinations and retro-flavored technologies is now so realistic as to be almost irritating. It is the reality each of us lives. It is the present that approaches Prof. Bad Trip and de-forms. Here there is no eternal return, but rather collapse. It is our issue, not of the year one thousand. The present is Prof. Bad Trip making his work the ultimate dance of death.
We are in the storm, at the precise moment when everything can change, when everything will change. But we do not know how. And the cosmic insect we have become, governed by the big machine, does not know whether to continue digging and perhaps find itself on the other side one day or, finally, to take flight.
This might give you a hand to decide.
Loading comments slowly
