[vc_row css_animation=”” row_type=”row” use_row_as_full_screen_section=”no” type=”full_width” angled_section=”no” text_align=”left” background_image_as_pattern=”without_pattern”][vc_column][vc_column_text]<\/p>\n
Boatto wrote: “a man has lost his woman… he is filled with emptiness”. <\/span><\/p>\n It is an emptiness to be painted, an emptiness which communicates. It speaks because painting has its own orality, its own voice, even its own intimacy. <\/span><\/p>\n I have read his most personal possessions with my own eyes: from the slippers to the bags, to the straw hats, to his fast bicycle: a collection of objects which I had never noticed in daily life, because they appear only in solitude, in abandonment… the weight of the evidence. <\/span><\/p>\n It is a wardrobe of affections, the paintings are letters waiting for Godot who will never come. But a painter must believe in the invisible.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n The painter’s hands caress and re-touch the pompoms, red and superstitious. <\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n