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Silvia Giambrone

Silvia Giambrone
Silvia Giambrone
Foto di Antonio Barrella
Silvia Giambrone
Silvia Giambrone

Scissors/a plate, a piece of string/ a blade... household items threaten one another in silence (Vertigo, 2015). On one wall are cheerful pieces of embroidery: the heroin molecule (Eroina, 2012). A woman tries to apply false eyelashes that look like little crowns of thorns (Eredità, 2008). That same woman lets a macramé collar be sewn into her flesh by a tailor who looks a lot like a surgeon (Teatro anatomico, 2012). Silvia Giambrone, a young artist who draws her inspiration from her own life and its mysteries. Who doesn't seek answers but questions. Who reads poetry and philosophy, and is interested in violence.
Violence as a domestic ritual. Something so deeply embedded in the fabric of life as to no longer be recognised as violence. She is interested in the imperceptible – those points of friction, potent yet subterranean, that tend to escape notice, to be above suspicion. Yes, because this personable young woman who could have walked right out of a pre-Raphaelite painting wants to be on the border, a place not of demarcation but of ambiguity (so human, so real), where things become their opposites. And it is hard to pick a side. Who is inflicting the violence? Who is suffering it? Are there really specific roles?
Her critical eye falls on the little things. Even upon herself, for playing a part in this ambiguity. But her language is poetic, seductive and elusive. Like a whisper. That whisper of art that perhaps speaks of universal feelings but allows you to talk to a stranger as though they were a lover, to whom you give everything. And therein lies Silvia's political dimension. The personal is political, and poetry the ultimate form of resistance. Standing on the border, on the barricade. The poetry that undermines conformism, seduces slowly, leaving things in suspension, disturbing you and forcing you to look at reality as though for the first time. Just like in those verses by Gozzano: "The flowers seem to me strange: there are anyway roses, there are anyway geraniums..."


The story of Silvia Giambrone has been written by Gaia Manzini, writer

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