Alessandra Baldoni

Pigre divinità e pigra sorte
Marco Pierini, Ilaria Batassa, 2022
Paperback

Publisher: Lab 1930. Fotografia contemporanea

Dimensions: 25.5 x 20.5

Pages: 32
€40
Artist's book

Publisher: Lab 1930. Fotografia contemporanea

Dimensions: 25.5 x 20.5

Pages: 32
€300
Artist's book

Publisher: Lab 1930. Fotografia contemporanea

Dimensions: 25.5 x 20.5

Pages: 32
€500
Artist's book

Publisher: Lab 1930. Fotografia contemporanea

Dimensions: 25.5 x 20.5

Pages: 32
€800

Alessandra Baldoni. Pigre divinità e pigra sorte was printed iin an edition of 70 copies, numbered from 1 to 40 in Arabic numerals and from I to XXX in Roman numerals. The copies numbered from I to XXX are accompanied by a Fine Art print that was not reproduced in the book, and this print has been authenticated by the artist.

 

Fine Art prints (view sample pages):

Alessandra Baldoni

Pigre divinità e pigra sorte (Lazy Gods and Lazy Fate), 2022

Fine art print on cotton paper and wooden frame

16 x 24 cm | 20 x 25 cm | 20 x 30 cm

Ed. 10

€ 300,00 | € 500,00 | € 800,00

 

Alessandra Baldoni: I remember the relentless heat of that August day in Perugia, with its pale stones touching the deep blue sky. The city was as beautiful and poignant as ever. I was on my way to the Galleria Nazionale dell'Umbria, which was closed at first because of the pandemic and then because it was in the midst of a majestic installation by its director, Marco Pierini—this I would find out months later. I felt the emotion one has when seeing a great love again after some time apart. I held my breath until I reached the first floor and crossed the entrance threshold, which I knew well because I had crossed it many times before, driven by the need to restore my gaze and indulge in silent, personal dialogues with faces surrounded by gold and vermilion passion. I had the privilege of being able to enter alone and see the Galleria in a moment of metamorphosis: exposed in the fragile realm of the undefined, suspended in hesitation and in the midst of momentous change. I remember the silence and the feeling of having crossed a forbidden space, moving cautiously yet in awe. I don't know how many times in one's life one might be able to enter such a 'construction site' with a camera: bustling workmen, marks on the walls like sacred wear — a shabby shroud — and nails and holes recalling the blood of pierced feet. There were fiercely gazing lions and dishevelled wires, and sockets through which light fell onto the haloes of angels. Also: There were wrappings and papers to protect things, which had been the nest or support of something precious. There were also hands sheltering their chests from the time-worn impact of the divine. There was paper on the ground, and figures struggling with marble, stucco, vines, and skilful draperies rising against all gravity. Also: The dust, the crookedness, the imperfections waiting to be healed. The faces of martyred saints, angels and deities hang in the air, as if suspended by a question. They, the eternal ones, seem to hesitate, as if in an interrupted gesture, as if contemplating the unthinkable: change, revolution. The Lazy Gods and Lazy Fate series is a tale of wonderful bewilderment: a metamorphosis in progress, a place to be found and a new meaning to be discovered. I never thought I would witness the undressing and nakedness of a place like the Galleria, only to find it transformed and invested with a new, white glory.