"Respir:ami nasce dal bisogno di prendere fiato, è un viaggio in apnea, entrando in profondità, per poi risalire e respirare. In tutte le opere si parla di respirare, inspirare e lentamente lasciarsi andare in un sonno (non sogno) che rigenera il pensiero, in una sfera molto intima e privata."

La guarigione è un processo che si può definire come il ripristino di qualcosa di danneggiato alle sue normali funzioni. Rigenerare, riparare, fissare. Guarire richiede un determinato periodo di tempo, particolare dedizione e dei compromessi, ma cosa dire della guarigione dell’anima? Qual’é il percorso da seguire per guarire dai tormenti interiori? Un respiro profondo può aiutare a dimenticare e ad andare avanti?

Con la mostra Respir:ami Margherita Martinelli fa esattamente questo: usa qualcosa di apparentemente semplice e scontato come il respiro per curarsi e guarire. Per capire a fondo la sua recente produzione artistica, infatti, bisogna considerare che l’artista ha avuto per parecchi mesi l’impossibilità fisica di dipingere. Da allora, ha dovuto accettare la fragilità e l’ironia di quella cosa che chiamiamo “vita”, realizzando che non c’è tempo per abbandonarsi a considerarne gli aspetti negativi, né per smettere di creare. Come direbbe il coniglio di Alice nel Paese delle Meraviglie di Lewis Carroll: “Sono in ritardo, sono in ritardo ad un appuntamento molto importante!”

L’"appuntamento" di Margherita Martinelli è con la sua arte. Lei è Alice, che per arrivare nel Paese delle Meraviglie è dovuta cadere nella trappola del coniglio; epperò, lei lo fa consapevolmente, con una certezza e una precisione che vanno molto oltre la sua età. Non ha dubbi Margherita, è curiosa, con il desiderio di essere sempre da qualche parte, e sempre alla conquista di qualcosa.

"La mia ricerca si incentra su abiti corazza, abiti contenitori, abiti come involucri che proteggono e custodiscono l’uomo. L’idea dell’abito, qui, si evolve e si trasforma attraverso il colore: abiti verdi, rossi, bianchi, e infine abiti neri ... ognuno con la propria forma e simbologia, con un richiamo particolare ai costumi del XVIII secolo, rigidi e strutturati.

L’abito è contenitore di memorie, non è nuovo, né legato al contesto della moda, qui si parla di abiti indossati, pregni di un vissuto; abiti che conservano l’odore e la forma di un corpo."

Anche le parole giocano un ruolo importante nelle opere dell’artista. Sono voci, pensieri, echi di momenti vissuti e di persone incontrate. Ciascuna di loro ha una sua raison-d’être.

“La scrittura è parte fondamentale delle mie opere: appunti di viaggio, giochi di parole e numeri sono alla base della mia pittura. Respir:ami è un prendere parte alle mie memorie, simboli e pensieri annotati; piccoli pezzi di carta cuciti e annodati sulla tela, talvolta ancora non scritti, sono i desideri, o tutto ciò che ancora deve accadere, con un richiamo alla filosofia orientale.”

Il progetto Respir:ami di Margherita Martinelli prende vita dalla caduta dell’artista nella trappola fittizia del Coniglio di Lewis Carroll; ma invece di armadi e mensole, di mappe e foto appese su picchetti, l’artista scopre balene fluttuanti, libellule che si librano ed immobili fenicotteri rosa. Forza, precisione e determinazione: questi elementi diventeranno il suo Coniglio Bianco. Con titoli quali Cur:ami, Viaggi:ami o Respir:ami, Margherita Martinelli crea un dialogo diretto tra lei e lo spettatore, invitandolo nel suo personale Paese delle Meraviglie.

“Svolgo un’indagine sul viaggio, legandomi anche alla simbologia degli animali: il canto delle balene, custodi di segreti, il volo notturno delle libellule, il migrare “rosa” dei fenicotteri che si cercano, si inseguono, si trovano … tutto questo su tele con un grande spessore, come dei cassettoni che contengono i racconti di una memoria, di un tempo presente e di un tempo futuro.”

Lewis Carroll un volta disse: “Non posso ritornare al passato – perché allora ero una persona diversa.” Nel caso di Margherita Martinelli mi chiedo perché mai lei dovrebbe desiderare di tornare indietro. La persona e l’artista che è diventata oggi è semplicemente ammirevole: un grande talento che ha appena iniziato a sorprenderci con il suo illimitato potenziale.

Tratto da Wonderdland according to Martinelli di Alec Von Bargen

---

WONDERLAND ACCORDING TO MARTINELLI – A. Von Bargen

“I can't go back to yesterday - because I was a different person then.” – Lewis Carroll

The process of healing could be defined as the restoration of anything damaged back to its normal function. To regenerate, repair, fix. Healing requires a specific amount of time, a precise dedication, immense will and a compromise on behalf of the ailing party. A natural sequence of events must occur in order to heal, and even then, full recuperation is never guaranteed. For a common cut, scrape or incision, the healing process begins with a clot preventing continuous loss of blood, then neutrophil invasion occurs at 3 to 24 hours, and finally mitoses at 24 to 48 hours. The same type of meticulous, orchestrated process is required when healing a broken bone, a torn muscle or even a scraped knee, but what of a healing soul? Are there steps to be taken to insure the full recuperation of inner turmoil? Will breathing deeply cure a maelstrom of overwhelming emotions? Is it possible to fix a damaged and struggling core with nothing but positivity and will?

Can a deep breath help to forget and move on?

Margherita Martinelli’s current proposal Respir:ami, which in English could be translated as Breathe:me does just that, it uses something as seemingly straightforward as breathing to cure, but in her case, the artist requests that we as spectators aid in her recuperation. We must inhale that which she has spent the past 24 months exhaling.

It is now her turn to breathe.

To understand Ms. Martinelli’s latest dialogue and the importance of her recent proposal, one must know that the artist suffered a life-changing accident less than 2 years ago in which she almost lost her life. This is not sensationalism, it’s a fact. She was extremely fortunate to have survived. That said, in a way, part of Ms. Martinelli did pass-away in that car that night and the person that walked away from the side of the highway is much more determined, much more focused and much more meticulous than ever before. Something awoke in her and is pushing her towards that which is her fate. She is no longer afraid. Her recovery has been a slow and painful one, but it hasn’t stopped her from working harder than ever before.

The artist has most definitely used the suffering endured to strengthen her artistic creations and the depth of her vision, but what is most applaudable is that instead of parlaying her tragedy into dark canvases plagued with literal elements of her constant ailing, Martinelli has dedicated every second of her time recuperating to come to terms with the fragility and ironic elements of this thing we call “life”. She has used the ever-gracious and passionate corners of her soul to realize that there is no time to sit around pondering the negative. There is no time to stop the creating process. There is no time…

As the hare in Lewis Carroll’s dreamlike Alice in Wonderland would say: “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date”.

Her ‘date’ is one with her own creating process. She has forcefully dedicated too much time assimilating the pain and now wishes only to return to the pleasure. She is that Alice whom in order to arrive in wonderland must first fall down the rabbit hole. She does it wholeheartedly and headfirst. She generously removes her outer shell for us to witness her transformation and then dives fearlessly into the abyss, into the unknown, with a certainty and precision far beyond her years. There is not a moment of pause in her creation, no doubt whatsoever in her discourse; she knows what to do and how she must do it. She is eager.

It is that eagerness that comes through in Martinelli’s recent work: that desire to be somewhere, to achieve something that captures and embraces. She knows that she has no time to lose… she has found her sense of humour and isn’t scared to laugh in the face of adversity.

It is while falling down Lewis Carroll’s fictitious rabbit hole on the way to her own private wonderland that Martinelli, instead of cupboards and book-shelves, maps and pictures hung upon pegs, discovers the most magical of creatures: floating whales, hovering dragonflies and steadfast Pink Flamingos. Strength, precision and determination. These will become her White Rabbit, her Marsh Hare and her Cheshire Cat. Frida Kahlo once said: “I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling.” Martinelli seems to find that same “decent and good feeling” in the creatures she has chosen to surround herself with and curiously they too either swim, fly or float. They are all strong symbols and most definitely reflect the steadfast character of the artist.

As she continues to fall she also passes the binding dresses of her past; dresses which are structured and rigid. These dresses, the same which once perfectly adorned her slender frame no longer make her feel pretty, they don’t flow as they once did. She doesn’t deny them but at the same time she maturely realises that they’ve been outgrown and she won’t need them anymore. She takes them off letting them hang in their appropriate armoire. They are not to be worn, they on display… they are what was. She has been liberated. She has grown. She now falls naked, feeling the wind against her skin and the newfound freedom in her soul. The heels, red and bright like those of Dorothy from Oz, are kicked off and fall parallel to the remaining excess accessories. The new Martinelli doesn’t need the extra inches, she’s added them within.

Although she is falling, she never loses sight of her surroundings, presenting each one of her encounters against blurred, colourful backgrounds, instances of lucidity amongst moments so surreal. Her palate, although soft, is bold and concise, the layers structured and contained. Her landscapes are not foreign, they are familiar, second nature; their detail is not necessary. They are so profoundly embedded in every fibre of her body that with the utmost ease she presents them as they are: unpretentious and unembellished. Unlike Alice, forced to react to the whims of Lewis Carroll and his imagination, Martinelli is in charge here and dominates the geographic contours of her strokes.

Words and writing also play an important part in Ms. Martinelli’s pieces. She uses them as elaborations rather than simple complements to her aesthetic proposal. They are voices, thoughts, echoes of moments lived and people met. They present themselves as random but are anything but casual. They each have a raison-d’être and they remain with you long after you’ve encountered them. Numbers too play their part in this countdown to landing. Five, four, three, two, one… a countdown which will mark her arrival, like Alice before her, into the hall with all the doors and only two solutions: eat me and drink me. If Alice drank the potion she would shrink, whereas by eating from the cake she would grow. If only Alice had searched a little further, if only she had combed the room from head to toe she may have found that which Martinelli not only found, but always knew was there: options.

With titles like Cur:ami (cure me), Viaggi:ami (travel me) or Respir:ami (breathe me), Martinelli creates an immediate dialogue between the spectator and the creator, and to do so, she evidently needs to dominate all that she offers. There is no doubt in my mind that it is here that she proves herself effortlessly. She is cured, she has travelled and she now breathes at ease, therefore, she is has the liberty to share these experiences through her work and to guide, to mold and to manipulate us towards a world in which she feels comfortable, protected and safe. Martinelli has chosen her door, opened it and is living her wonderland, fully conscious of her role within it.

Much has happened to Margherita Martinelli and her work over the past two years and we are fortunate witnesses to her growth. Lewis Carroll once said: “I can't go back to yesterday - because I was a different person then.” In Martinelli’s case, I would question why she would ever want to go back to yesterday, as the person and artist she is today is nothing less than admirable and a great talent just beginning to astound with her limitless potential.
A. Von Bargen