Senza voce

Diary

The Senza voce sculpture has been placed inside a confessional. It was inspired by a sketch drawn by the artist who, when focusing her gaze on it, thought of the path of the vibration created by the moving voice.
Stone does not produce a voice, seemingly. Or perhaps it is a voice that you must be able to hear, as theorised by the musicologist Marius Schneider. Nature certainly does but stone too has a sound, a rhythm, as applies to the capitals present in the basilica of San Celso with their fantastic, symbolic animals. Schneider had found a connection between those ﬁgures and the Gregorian hymns dedicated to the saints. Here, partly via Nina Carini’s works, I seem to hear those sounds ﬁlled with mysticism and spirituality.

There is a light behind the sculpture. It is an intimate work that reveals a silent cry, a tension towards the beyond just like the arms in the apse. This is an existential unease that struggles to speak in words. Beside the work on the ﬂoor is a keepsake of time, fossils evoking the history of the world, of nature, that humans relentlessly destroy. Without any obvious social reference, Nina Carini looks at her surroundings and underscores their vulnerability. The society we live in makes us believe that we simply must be beautiful, high performing, almost immortal, sci-ﬁ creatures, without realising that the meaning of life may lie in its very fragility, in its precariousness which, in the age-old sense of the word, makes us dramatically unique. Implausible

From the eternal to the precarious
Angela Madesani

Sculpture, 2023
Rare white alabaster with no veining, 24 x 17 x 14 cm; base in rare honey-coloured alabaster, 8 10 12 cm