Jacopo Di Marco
Lunetta 11
Sergio Ragalzi’s exhibition addresses the theme of care by overturning the perspective.
Instead of comforting, his work disturbs, haunts, and interrogates. Black dominates everything, leaving no room for the vitality of color.
In the artist’s work, everything revolves around man and his fears, his dramas, his tragedies, and the dangers inherent in his very existence, both as an individual and as a species.
The first step in “caring” for someone or something is choosing to look in that direction, to turn one’s attention toward it.
And Ragalzi, with his works—exorcisms of hidden fears—asks us to do exactly that: not to look away, but to look at something that is not, but could be, however difficult that may be.
In short, to take care of ourselves before it is too late.
The geography of care crosses boundaries between bodies, cities, institutions, and landscapes to tell the story of how we take care of what is fragile and what keeps us alive.
The festival draws a map of visible and invisible places, where every encounter is a stage of this journey: conferences, theatrical performances, cinema, concerts, nature walks, and exhibitions become stations where we stop, listen, name the wounds, and imagine new forms of mutual custody.