| Elegy overwhelms Fidel Cataldi’s paintings as if sounding into their most hidden and
secret elements. A shade of sadness is warmed up by colours and images that are
overrun by a wind of idyllic words driven by the artist towards the magnetic and
uncontainable power of his dreamlike visions. The power of nature, constantly changing
through lunar cycles, glitters before the ancestors and the transient flow of generations
that recall to our memory the very core of our lives. A seemingly bewildering solo but
also slight, subtle and drizzling just as a tropical spring rain. Our desire grows up ,
fades then soon comes back in short lived instants that leave us out breath as a crater
of absence and presence in a longed for shelter.
From the macro of cosmos to the micro of human elements, from the macro of human
soul to the micro of his inner sky space , nebulae and sun sinking into timeless
antilogies, in contrasts sublimated by flashes of wild colours masterfully handled by
the artist’s paintbrush. If he were also a poet I would offer him the huge digressions of
those scents his paintings are pervaded by together with lyric deepness. But, as an
artist, he himself suggests the elements with his outstanding magic the layman is
amazed by and therefore induced to smile before his paintings where the poet hangs
up his heart not to be startled by love.
A silent and deaf painter shut in his alcove made of vague facets reflecting the
sentimental duplicity of a body hurt by frustrations of life but also alone and gratified.
Deeply involving sensations of swirling emotions spreading out on a chorus of peoples in
search of a land of author: faces and Jack-of-all-trades women overloaded with strain and
perjury in a barren, waste , fruitless land. Dreadful and deceiving illusion to be at the very
core of the universe, while those who are looking for you have already forgotten their own
existence.
Paintings describing street children once happy who have now lost their inner child
as have grown up uprooted from their inner island and transplanted on drifting
continents. The darkness of our new western land that resumes the “noble savage” and
introduces him into a desecrating circuit of poor vitality. Debased identity subject to a
more englobing power. The smell of a sweated land disappears and the derision of holy
lives seizes us in “the reign of Earth” with war sagas and salt crystals …that is wasted in
the continuous game of power pursuers.
The artist leads us towards a striking, deafening and victorious universe with its ancient
tie; chain of men in an endless line with hollow eyes filled with memories and pains, men
with their inner shouts and dissolving pangs for any success longing for separation. At last rivers , lakes, seas and
oceans running towards purification and spreading out with dizzy and wriggling
movements into cosmos with the greedy propellers of a strengthening DNA. New life, new
splendor in the rebirth of an invaded Earth which , blinded at first by echoes of fury and
wicked disorder, gets rid of any metaphysical grief and bursts out fervor and lost
happiness. |
