Crêuza de mä by J. Blanchaert
I go on holiday always in a place that I never mention, just like a mushrooms seeker, who suggests to go left when he knows that the best mushrooms are on the right. The idea of sharing at any cost is in some way obscene. The beautiful things should also be kept secret. How did the Genoese managed to keep secret from the rest of the world that their city is one of the wonders of creation, it’s a mystery to me. They all know it, but they never tell it to the others. On the contrary, they throw dust in the eyes to muddy the waters, so that the stranger can’t understand how beautiful Genoa is – Genoa, their city, of which they are so jealous. I’d like to warn the inhabitants of Genoa that their fellow citizen Bernadette Pisano is betraying them. In Lombardy, whenever anyone mentions her place of birth, her face lights up. She considers Genoa the center of the world. Her brushes give life to intimate situations with spiritual colors. Reality is transfigured. The observer finds himself as invisible spectator in a room where, in summer, the lady of the house relaxes with no veils, lying on a blue sofa, hugging a pillow. Is it possible to be catechumen and totally free at the same time? Bernadette Pisano seems to say yes. The abandoned figures of men and women evoke the sacredness of this body that we have on loan for this life, and that we will have to return at the end. Flowers, gardens, streets, light beams, real and invented clothes, porches, shadows, postures and architectures. These things and many others lead Bernadette Pisano to celebrate with lightness a non-light sense of life, and to transmit it with a clean joy which is totally in contrast with the art of today.
artist and gallerist