CHAIRS IN THE ART OF MARCO AZZOLA
Marco and his painter’s chair. Marco and his trestle. Marco and his house. Almost a mountain hut, at the foot of a hill, in the dark, in a corner outside the town centre where the rays of the sun filter through the window panes only for a few hours a day. But there, near the wood-burning stove in winter, and on the grass in summer, there is always light. It comes from him. And it is enough for those who are lucky to capture truth, beyond all appearances. But how did he wind up here, Marco, among us? Seeming like an extra-terrestrial, an alien? The art critics describe him as a misfit, without social relations, with a dark and tormented life at the margins. But his paintings, creatures born of his own hands, recount an infinitely sensitive and great soul. Hundreds of scattered oils on canvas, in 46 years of life as an artist, throughout the planet: from Italy to Canada, Greece, Australia. Because those who have known him, Marco, and then gone to live abroad, have wanted to bring along a painting with his signature, a landscape of the Friulian foothills. And they preserve it jealously. Like a bit of intimate history, like a root from the native land, like a close symbol of being Italian. “My chair and my trestle… and a landscape. Or an old photo. I need nothing more”. If not the memories. Or the memories of past loves that have remained inside him. The music of the heart that beats always to the image of the Mama and Papa that left him when he was still a boy. Marco lives from poetry and air. From glances. His knotted hands, his face marked by time, by pain but also by the immense emotion that the comprehension of nature, including that of man, knows how to give. Marco, Marco Azzola, was born in Tarcento, the Pearl of Friuli, the City of Fire and Water, in the north of Italy on 6 July 1948. He has lived more than one existence since then.
He considers himself a spiritual pupil of Van Gogh, even if his art reminds one more of Antonio Ligabue. A student of Giampietro Nimis, he began to paint at 6 years old and has never stopped since then. Sought after by collectors and fans of his singular, unique and thoroughly peculiar expressive modality, which imitates nothing except his own feelings, Marco lives to paint and paints life. Nothing else. And he does it on his chair, of wood and straw, a chair that nobody would want any more but which has an intimate familiar story that cannot be recounted with words alone. “I require a chair, a canvas, brushes and colours”. And tranquillity, the silence of rainy or sun-drenched days, in an early August afternoon. And here, from that chair, from those hands, comes forth those masterpieces of art with their absolute originality. Marco, who will be the protagonist of a new personal exhibition in 2013, pays no attention to detail: “everything is material, the world is upside-down, there is no humanity left” he says, wrapped in his jacket. Born on 6 July, under the sign of Cancer, with an incredibly strong sensitivity, has chosen to be alone but does not feel lonely. He loves solitude because he lives in harmony with the surrounding nature, at times benevolent and at times malevolent. “This is the mystery of existence” he says with a smile, and then embraces you. “Art, creation, the choice to dedicate oneself to conception, the love for beauty and to what we like and what makes the soul breathe, what feeds it. These are the only anchors of salvation for today’s man. The rest is about coming and going to places that are always the same. The new and beautiful inside of us, if we have the gift of finding and communicating it, are contained in creation: of music, words, of the lines of shapes that we give to objects that furnish our lives and communicate what we have inside. An immense wealth. This is what we will take with us one day when we leave this world. And this is what we will leave as an inheritance to those who follow us. Creating, conceiving and dreaming means giving hope, lighting a candle where there was darkness for centuries. It does not matter at what cost, even life itself”. Marco has participated in a dozen collective exhibitions and has been the protagonist also of several personal ones. He is the symbol of man at the passage of two millennia, in continual search for balance between being and having, between giving and asking, between living and dying, between one dimension and another. A balance that permits him to live out the remaining days with his own great dignity of being human.