meredith cutler :: arts marketing :: artist

Ciao, ragazzi! I have managed to excavate a rare and wonderous wireless connection here in jolly Parioli, so will take this opportunity to share some photos of my adventures here in Rome so far. The great majority of residents here in Rome carve their domestic space out of apartment living. As such, the personal space many of us enjoy in America is far more compressed. It's fairly difficult to feel lonely in Rome!

Example in point, the "cozy" studio apartment my husband and I are renting on Via Paolo Frisi, near Piazza Euclide in Parioli. A lucky find, this <30m² ground-level nest has been entirely renovated...IKEA style. Tutta nuova.

The owner (and architect's) choice of white and neutral tones for ceiling, walls and floor helps to brighten the otherwise cramped and dark garden-level space. Another wise choice, the glass and brushed metal doors of the roomy IKEA closet occupying the entire rear wall reflect light, creating an illusory effect that causes the space to appear much larger.

Ample recessed lighting further brightens up the space, highlighting quirky corners like the above depicted niche, which we have brightened up with happy objects borrowed from my in-laws and some shiny new wedding gifts: a silver picture frame, antique silver teapot of dubious origin, and a brass name plate.

The galley kitchen, opposite the bed, offers all that is needed, with efficient recessed appliances, including a microwave/toaster combo, and two-burner stovetop with a lighted hood. Of course, with all of the fantastic food destinations and dinner invitations from friends here in Rome, I am embarrassed to admit that we have only dined at home once, with the exception of our daily breakfast of yogurt, caffé, granetti e bel "tigre" formaggio!

Another touch we appreciate is the desk and storage area built in the narrow space below the entrance stairway. Above the concealed cabinets we use to store our linens, we also keep our work papers, laptops and caschi (helmets) here neatly out of the way. A double-window lets in a little bit of air and light from the garden, (and less wonderful...le zanzare! ((mosquitoes))

For a couple like us, accustomed to sharing a two-story, five-room apartment with double bath...it is the attention to detail in the design of this tiny honeymoon nest that truly counts towards keeping us "newly marrieds" in appropriate bliss! Alla prossima volta...Ciao!

Ciao ragazzi! The mercury here in Rome hovers around 40 degrees Centegrade (which is the upper 90's for those of you in the realm of Farenheit). What better excuse then to take refuge in the cool marble halls of an art museum! For my first visit to the Palazzo delle Esposizioni, we were able to catch the 15th Quadriennale d'arte di Roma, which runs through September 14th.

As an outsider to the here and now in contemporary Italian art, this was a good introduction. However, like many survey format shows, which must be a nightmare to curate, I have to admit that it left me feeling a bit lost for vision at the end.

Primarily comprised of emerging and mid-career artists, the show spotlights 99 living artists, with a special (post-mortem) tribute to a 100th, Arte Povera sculptor: Luciano Fabro. During our visit, the museum staff was busy building a large platform for one of his final marble sculptures: "Autunno"; up to this point, not yet shown in public. The casino created by this construction caused an unfortunate interruption of some of the more subtle sound environments and video installations on the 1st floor; for example: Mariateresa Sartori's video installation "Il concerto del mondo". This subtle piece, a video cropped to the mouths of various paired speakers, each vignette in a different language, was accompanied by a soundtrack of music composed to match the rhythm and volume of the subjects as they conducted their conversation. Unfortunately, the excess of ambient noise outside of the viewing room did not serve the interests of this piece.

At a loss to interpret some morbidly lush paintings clustered on the ground level, I found myself drawn to a pair of rather cheeky works in animation shown on the second level of this gorgeous palace. The first, Federico Solmi's "King Kong and the End of the World", was a joyous F.U. to the excesses of American capitalist culture and an energized animation, to boot. Scenes of "the artist as King Kong", sporting a ballooning red erection while smashing the Gagosian Gallery to bits with the edifice of the Guggenheim had me crowing with laughter. I appreciated the way that the museum installed a large selection of original drawings from the animation around the plasma video display. The style, very "schoolkid doodling in the margins of his notebook" was accessible in a way that just barely obfuscated the naughty bits of the subject matter.

"Eine Symphonie Des Greuns", an animated environment by Andrea Mastrovito, featured similarly sketchy drawing style; in this case doubly projected in black and white over a still scene comprised of A4 sheets of paper photocopied and taped simply to the wall. The animation, a dreamlike sequence toying with the self-generated birth and death of a bearded young dude, was surreal in a way that reminded me of Rami Farah's narratives in Julia Meltzer and David Thorne's work shown at the Whitney Biennial.

Incidentally, it was impossible not to notice a heavy influence of British pop-music on this generation of Italian artists, as this piece was accompanied by a looped clip of the intro to Radiohead's "No Surprises" - and the former, by what I sketchily identified as the piano bridge in Eric Clapton's "Layla"...

I admit that I found myself a bit alienated from much of the formal work in the show, and my non-artsy husband, although born and raised in Rome, was no help to me in interpreting the movements behind the evidence. Paintings to my eye were morbidly garish, depicting either grossly overgrown vegetated environments or circus nightmares. Sculpture resonated fairly flat, with the exception of a lovely trio of maps, delicately carved into bars of cream-colored soap by Elissabeta Di Maggio. These pedestalled tesserae depicted, in turn, full aerial street maps of La Città di Messico, Parigi, e Algiers. Each complete map was enclosed in a lovely red linen box display, with the city name penned on an ornamental label.

Leaving the cool marble oasis of the Palazzo, we sported nostri casci and sped away on nostro motorino.

Mi dispiace! In my excitement to remove myself to locations more favorable, I neglected to mention that I am off to "bella Roma" with mio marito for our long overdue honeymoon (and second half of the wedding, if you will).

Il tempo è fresco, e siamo contenti di stare qui. (The weather is cool, and we are happy to be here).

As I am writing this on my father-in-law's (il mio suocero) kooky Italian laptop, I cannot yet figure out how to post photos (or easily punctuate, mind you). When I get this sorted out I'll be sure to share some of my Roma art, design and food adventures right here.

Stay cool ragazzi! Alla prossima volta!

Sometimes, I flip lightly through the table of contents of my day, free from the prickly sensation of self-conciousness that can surface due to the human density of an urban lifestyle. Other times, I harbor no illusions...keep your nose clean, for here the walls themselves have eyes. Occhio!

Just when you think it's safe to venture out in public, the damn Trekkies steal your identity! Is this unprecedented identity theft simply retribution for having been seen motoring around Rome in un casco molto grosso e bianco? Alas, we may never know the truth...