Ever since I discovered his poems, the first being The Ashes of Gramsci, Pasolini has been my inspiration. The reasons for my admiration are many: his work as a poet, filmmaker, image maker, the way he was committed to it all, that vocabulary item we have in common: the body, the naked body, the choice of painters that inspired him, like Masaccio, Duccio, Bacon, Caravaggio, Giotto, whom he himself plays as the disciple in Decameron… his references to Roberto Longhi, his unique way of speaking of great myths in our time that are still forged our consciousness (Medea, Oedipus, Jesus…), the way he explored Greece, Africa, the two sides of the Mediterranean… A visionary, he was torn by the desire to transform the relationship between people and the acute lucidity through which he foresaw acculturation, dehumanization, the norms that would define the consumerist neoliberalism, that he compared to the new form of barbarity. While he warned us about the diversion of physical and spiritual aspirations of emancipation that this society was going to undertake for the sake of commodification, he also pointed out the monstrosity of communism, unable to consider a human being as sacred. As a Marxist, he knew that his quest to find absolutism and brotherhood was in the gospels.
In Naples, I started my collage series by combining the image of his severed head with that of Caravaggio, promoting both their legacies. Not only did that share the same lifestyle, fed with passion and radical demands, or the love of Naples and its people, but also the will to examine the great biblical rites as if they were experienced by people in the street, as if they were something in the air… For his latest image, I created my drawing from police documents, and whoever saw the pictures of Pasolini’s broken body lying on the gray sand of Ostia will recognize it – a drawing of a clinical realism to depict the pieta of Christ, like a Pasolinian quest meant to highlight the sacred within the most prosaic of realities. Pasolini is carrying and showing his own corpse, asking: what did you want to keep quiet by killing me? What have you done of my death? My drawing represents these questions, still unanswered, peddled in the streets and on the walls of Rome and Matera, Naples, Ostia, in places that have links with his life, his work, written or filmed… and his death.
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Ernest Pignon Ernest
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