Aracne 2013

Roberto Ferri's painting, Aracne, emerges from the shadows with a creamy, fleshy palette, punctuated by bursts of red. I imagine Ferri layering oil upon oil, building up the form of the body like a sculptor might work with clay. You can almost smell the linseed oil, can’t you? The painting is so dramatic with the contrast between light and dark. It makes me think of Caravaggio, but with something else entirely. The figure is perched on a white cloth, which looks incredibly soft. The tension in the figure is palpable, she’s leaning so far back it is as though she could fall. The blurred, gestural marks around the figure suggest movement, or perhaps a transformation. This isn’t just a painting of a figure; it’s a feeling, an atmosphere. It's an investigation into how the human form can embody both strength and vulnerability. It's like Ferri is asking: what does it mean to exist in a body, to experience the world through flesh and bone? I see a conversation between artists across centuries! Isn't that neat?