KATIA BASSANINI (1969-2010)

A never-ending exhibition

The exhibition I am writing about this time is not real, but imaginary. If you seek the reasoning behind this, consider the needs perceived by every human being at the very moment when we experience a loss: when something is lost, our memory takes over. This piece is short and emotional, has no ambitions but intends to do no more than celebrate the life and work of an artist who recently left the world as we know it. Katia Bassanini was born in Lugano at the end of the sixties, studied art in several cities in Switzerland, then one day said goodbye to her friends and flew over to the States, choosing New York as her new home for a new life. Her works can now be found in public and private collections and her art has been recognised by critics, curators and dealers alike. I never had the opportunity to meet Katia Bassanini myself: my familiarity with her comes from the catalogues that are doing the rounds at the moment and hinges on the invaluable reports that first induced me to get to know her work. As a result, my “never-ending exhibition of Katia” is half real, based on the impressions triggered by her works, and half conjured up by stories of memories. The reason why I call it a “never-ending exhibition” is because, when a creative personality dies, our mind is inclined to stop drawing distinctions between the person and the artist: the two figures meld and their differences become essential details that will in fact last forever. Katia’s output is enormous: drawings, videos, “performances without an audience” and objects; she used each medium for the purposes of the piece in question and not vice-versa. The important thing for Katia was the meaning she instilled into her grotesque stories, based on a narrative inspired by the theatre of the absurd and illustrated by crude images. As she used a direct language that strips embarrassing truths bare, these “crude nonsenses” go straight to the point. Katia Bassanini always seems to sidestep the redemption of social man by showcasing his eternal misery; the logic is this: once you have touched the bottom, the only way is up – with a nice smile on your face, of course.

Anna Mazzucco

mazzucco.anna@gmail.com

(Published courtesy of the author and of Extra, the supplement distributed with the Corriere del Ticino)

[Translation Pete Kercher]

September 20th 2010 <