Gravitational Field

About the work

A distortion arising from the landscape

In Gravitational Field, I explore an idea that has been with me for some time: the feeling that space, even when it appears familiar, can suddenly bend under the weight of forces we cannot see.
As in other works of mine dedicated to the perception of time and geometry (for example, Aeon), here too I seek to question the stability of the visible world.

The landscape I paint is not a simple hill: it is an organism that curves, twists, and allows itself to be drawn toward a dark center, as if it were traversed by an energy that cannot be localized but can be felt everywhere.

The dialogue between sky and matter

The night sky, with its clouds illuminated by a cold light and stars emerging in the clearest areas, represents for me the dimension of the possible: everything that lies beyond what we know.
The ground, on the other hand, embodies the reality that sustains us—and yet can waver, change shape, become something else.

When I work with an airbrush, as in this case, I seek precisely this: to bring out soft, almost hyperrealistic transitions that nevertheless destabilize the gaze. The curved surface of the earth thus becomes a sort of gravitational wave that opens up towards a silent abyss.

A lively and restless landscape

In the center of the valley, I let dark, compact, and irregular vegetation emerge.
I like to think of it as a silent heart, a place where nature seems to breathe.
The bands of light running along the cavity (with those warm, golden tones) suggest a flow, an energetic threshold between inside and outside, between what can be seen and what remains hidden.
This work continues my research into the transformation of places, which began in previous works collected in the Art & Science section, where I investigate real and imaginary landscapes as if they had been modified by alternative physical laws.
What I am interested in conveying
That space is never neutral: every place carries with it forces, tensions, memories.
That reality can be observed as if it were flexible: all you need to do is change your perspective.
That what we perceive as solid can suddenly become unstable: and it is precisely in that instability that visual poetry is born.

A door to the unknown

When I look at Gravitational Field, I feel as if the scene continues beyond the edges of the painting. As if the landscape were not limited to the canvas, but continued towards a place we can only guess at.
And this is precisely what I am interested in sharing: an invitation to observe the world as if it were always on the verge of revealing something.