25/07/2026
Testācĕus, Mixed Media on paper (Acrylic paint, modelling paste, gold-painted CD-ROM fragments), 70 × 100 cm
There is a red in Rome that you won't find in any guidebook. It's the red of the walls — historic palazzos and service doors, restored facades and crumbling plaster. An anonymous, omnipresent colour that turns suddenly solemn under sunlight. As if Rome had never stopped building with the same clay.
I covered the paper in modelling paste to recreate that surface — porous, uneven, alive under the fingers. Into the texture I embedded fragments of gold-painted CD-ROMs, broken by hand. When light strikes them, they give back exactly that: the sudden, almost irrational solemnity that certain walls throw at you.
The calligraphic marks belong to no alphabet. They are the words those walls have held for centuries — voices, stories, sounds — translated into signs that can be read without being understood. The way you read an ancient wall without knowing its language.
Second piece in a series about Rome. Not about the monuments — about what outlasts them without making any noise.