29 is Iosepha. An exhibition in which I presented only female figures. Not that I hadn't worked on the theme of the feminine before, but this particular project was the story of me in a very delicate and also transfigured way. The woman I represented was almost unreachable. A woman who shows herself by hiding. I took up this theme again in a subsequent project, where the subjects are a woman with a little girl: two figures talking to each other. It is still a very introspective work, but at that point I felt I had freed myself completely. I no longer needed to narrate; I could finally “enter” the works I dreamed of making. This introspective path, as you said, is reflected in the much freer use of resin... In the Iosepha project, I used white canvases with resin that I let interact with the colour. It was very difficult to make because, working on instinct, I didn't always manage to avoid soiling the canvases, which had to remain immaculate. Transparency was also important because of its ambivalent symbolic meaning. In relation to individuals, it shows the existence of “transparent” people in a positive but also negative sense. People who can be so transparent that they almost don’t exist, or they can be everywhere. It is also the story of my mother, and of many other women, who despite having great inner strength did not have that ability to shout, to make herself heard and to fulfil herself in life, as well as a mother and wife. I remember a beautiful film Memoirs of a Geisha in which the main character says: “water digs its way through stone, and when it is trapped it creates a new opening”. Resin is as liquid as water and is originally transparent. There is a link, of course, between water, resin and the female figure. These women, whom I call “liquid”, represent both fragility and sweetness and sensuality and strength. Speaking of strength, in Guido Levi’s book Una storia piena di paure, di anie e di avvenimenti quasi gialli 1942–1946 (2021), for which we collaborated, you dealt with the story of the escape of a Jewish child and his family to Switzerland to save themselves from Nazi-fascist persecution... Despite the dramatic nature of that terrible period, the pages of the diary I chose for my illustrations always have a poetic look. Guido Levi was a four years old boy living a peaceful life in Genoa. But one day in 1942 he woke up in his warm and cosy bed to the roar of bombs. War had broken out! The diary begins with the allied bombs dropped on the port of Genoa and continues with her and her Jewish family's escape from Nazifascist persecution from city to city until they
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