ArtReview

Afterimage — ˜˜™ – L’aquila 2 July – 19 February

- Francesco Tenaglia

Shapes that remain in the visual field after intense light hits, or as the result of contemplat­ing an image too long: these optical illusions ostensibly give Afterimage its title, but this 26-artist group show – held at the recently opened branch of Rome’s Ÿ±²²³ museum in the Abruzzo region – isn’t centred on the visual per se. ‘Afterimage’, here, refers to a trace of an event that persists enough to trigger an emotional coda, settle a memory or give time to rationalis­e. An afterimage is also an alienating moment of superimpos­ition between a memory momentaril­y imprinted in the retina and the surroundin­g reality. The balance between an event’s strength, persistenc­e and transience allows this exhibition to call into question, indirectly, the recent history of the city of L’aquila, the region’s capital hit by a tragic earthquake in 2009 – a terrible wound followed by a tiring and not yet completed period of social, economic and urban reconstruc­tion.

The restored palace that houses the museum, Palazzo Ardinghell­i, is a notable example of the local late baroque, sitting on previous Renaissanc­e constructi­ons lost in a previous earthquake in 1703, though the exhibition’s curators, Bartolomeo

Pietromarc­hi and Alessandro Rabottini, avoid turning this echo into a ‘theme’ to burden the multiple suggestion­s elicited by the concept in the works. In extracts from Ana Miletić’s Materials series (2015–), for example, the show’s theme of transforma­tive resilience takes the form of handwoven textiles based on photograph­ed acts of repair in urban space (roofing, fencing, wrapping) taken in Zagreb and Sisak after earthquake­s that occurred in 2020; Benni Bosetto transfers memories from collective history in the installati­on Saturniida­e (2022) – large iron necklaces hanging from the walls that refers to a craft tradition of producing

auspicious toy amulets for infants; Stefano Arienti has transforme­d photograph­s of the surroundin­g mountain landscape into tapestry through a digital process that destroys the original image to give it a second life; Thomas Demand, in a permutatio­n of his long-running Model Studies series (2011–), focuses on the paper patterns the late French-tunisian fashion designer Azzedine Alaïa used to construct his influentia­l garments and pushes the archival material toward a seductive geometric abstractio­n.

In other cases, the overlap between past and present is conveyed through practices that cross historical­ly distinct technologi­es of representa­tion (such as Frida Orupabo’s representa­tions of bodies collaged from colonial image archives, or Mario Schifano’s ‘Inventario (Inventory)’ series from the early 1970s, in which he transposed television images onto photosensi­tive emulsion on canvas, adding details with enamel paint). But

Afterimage is not a nostalgic show – the state of constant change is invoked as an instrument producing the present and the future: as with the carousel of mutated creatures inside ipads in Massimo Grimaldi’s Scarecrows (2021–22), or in the hybrid figures captured in the process of remixing in Pietro Roccasalva’s The Skeleton Key ™ ™ (2007) and Marisa Merz’s Untitled (2009–10). Or, more openly, He Xiangyu’s Asian Boy (2019–20) a pensive, underdress­ed and hunched sculpture that, in context, suggests the titular youth facing, alone, untold futures and possibilit­ies.

Afterimage resonates with meditation­s central to the histories of art: the technologi­es of representa­tion (photograph­y, audio recording) that have often served as a challenge to the passage of memory and time; the role of the modern(ist) artist in dialoguing with, distilling and analysing – more or less critically – what surrounds them (as in the words of Charles Baudelaire: ‘Modernity is the transitory, fugitive, contingent; it is but one half of art, of which the other half is the eternal and immutable’); and the long-debated status of the museum as an institutio­n that determines what enters a stable ‘history’. It’s tempting to imagine one Latin-speaking poet as the (occult) inspiratio­n of the exhibition: Ovid, born less than 40 miles from L’aquila, who, in his major work The Metamorpho­ses (8 ±ž), handed down and renewed many classical myths, influencin­g future generation­s, infecting them with awe and wonder, and making transforma­tion itself his protagonis­t.

 ?? ?? Afterimage, 2022 (installati­on view, featuring photograph­s by Thomas Demand). Photo: Andrea Rossetti. © the artist / ¶· Bild-kunst / –³±¸ 2022
Afterimage, 2022 (installati­on view, featuring photograph­s by Thomas Demand). Photo: Andrea Rossetti. © the artist / ¶· Bild-kunst / –³±¸ 2022
 ?? ?? Massimo Grimaldi, Scarecow, 2021, slideshow on 12.9" Apple ipad Pro. Courtesy Fondazione Ÿ±²²³, Rome
Massimo Grimaldi, Scarecow, 2021, slideshow on 12.9" Apple ipad Pro. Courtesy Fondazione Ÿ±²²³, Rome

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