Drawings and engravings

by Paolo Rizzi, 1974
 

Marilisa Pizzorno possesses, at least "in essence," two gifts: a rare graphic skill and a remarkable penchant for allusion-symbolism. I became aware of the former already four years ago on a solo exhibition that the painter (then a resident of Mestre) had set up at the "S. Vidal" gallery, and the praise for the then unknown young artist, from the sceptical and suspicious Venetian public, was unanimous. I had already become aware of the former four years ago, at a solo exhibition held by the painter (then a resident of Mestre) at the "S. Vidal" gallery, and the praise for the then unknown young artist, from the sceptical and suspicious Venetian public, was unanimous. As to the allusive-symbolic inclination, which has been maturing in the meantime, I could pleasantly witness it in observing the latest works. The forcing of the symbolic quotient, as well as the use of the mannerist "category" of ambiguity, is known to be one of the most obvious components of some of today's "committed" graphics.

Pizzorno is thus merely inserting herself into a trend that already has authoritative exponents. But what distinguishes her is the adoption, on her part, of expressive means that we could describe as traditional (i.e., the beautiful sign, the naturalistic outset, the fluidity of the graphic "trace") as opposed to the use, far more generalized in many of today's graphic designers, of schemes drawn from the photographic repository. In other words: it does not forego the more peculiar qualities of drawing. Even where iterations and serializations appear, owing to the same sociological context in which the semantic analysis sinks, they are resolved with a freshness of stroke that emphasizes the moment of direct emotion above that of graphic programming.

The human figure, which remains the centre of Pizzorno's attention, thus acquires a whole charge of immediacy, with moments of dreamy indulgence, turbulent, sentimental outbursts, and aggressive peaks: it is the arc of expressiveness that is stretched beyond the rigidity of the silhouette and the stereotypical "cliché". This is where the various motifs with more or less overtly symbolic undertones (the cage, the human carousel, the massification of the individual, love, loneliness, bound men) come alive through allurements and allusions, referring to “another” reality that comes and goes in the dark world of the psyche.

After all, what matters is that the image does not become crystallized in its full reception and therefore does not lose its meaning once it is transmitted: that air of mystery, that unfathomable enigma, that continuous "availability" of the sign must remain there so that an open conversation is established between the work and its viewer. Moments of symbolism and aesthetics are present in Pizzorno's etchings and drawings: they must merge perhaps even more, uncovering the wild wilderness of feelings and impulses that press from beneath. This inner urgency can be sensed. Of course, it needs to come to light even more; but the maieutic operation also lies in us, in the readers of these disturbingly beautiful sheets.