From the study and comparison with ten great women artists from the 1500s to the present day, this exhibition presents my works in dialogue with the first four artists, in chronological order: Fede Galizia (1574 – 1630), Artemisia Gentileschi (1593 – 1652), Berthe Morisot (1841-1895) and Gabriele Münter (1877-1962). All women who found in their artistic medium their own way of searching for themselves, managing with extreme effort and perseverance to express the great fire they felt within themselves. It is important to remember that equal opportunities did not exist for women artists until 1900.

Below there’s an extract of the exhibition press release:

“Sometimes, reality crumbles with a loud noise. All that remains is to pick up the
pieces and try to reassemble them, hoping for a newer, perhaps better, arrangement.

The works presented in this exhibition are inspired by the artist’s exploration and
long walks through the streets of Marvila, Lisbon, aiming to capture its unique
architectural character and the eclectic spirit of a neighborhood rooted in history
by the presence of its long-time residents, yet simultaneously reaching toward a
future filled with uncertainty for some and promise for others….
Like Marvila, destined to lose some of its originality through inevitable change, the
exhibition faced an ironic parallel. Three of the large acrylic paintings were lost during
their shipment from Milan to Lisbon — a sudden blow that also mirrored the
neighborhood’s struggles with transformation and new realities.
From this unforeseen event, the exhibition gained new meaning, and the line
“These fragments I have shored against my ruins”, borrowed from T.S. Eliot’s poem
The Waste Land, resonated deeply with Depedrini. It embodied rebuilding and
moving forward in the face of chaos. With this in mind, Depedrini created two new
works: These Fragments I Have Shored Against My Ruins, which gave the
exhibition its title, and Eight Euros per Kilo, a biting commentary on the absurd
compensation offered by the shipping company for the lost works.
The fragments of paintings and drawings used as part of the creative process
evoke the peeling plaster of Marvila’s facades, its fading colors, and its paved
streets — often chipped and crumbling, preserving the marks of time in both
matter and memory.
Depedrini’s spontaneous painting style often reflects the vibrant, ever-moving
energy of the cities she explores.
“If I were superstitious,” Depedrini says, “I might say that this exhibition carried
the aura of premonition.” Much like Marvila, destined to lose some of its originality
through inevitable change, the exhibition mirrors this ironic parallel — yet
whether this transformation is for the better remains an open question that only
time can answer.
Cristiana Depedrini
Sandra Pires

I was involved in the project to create illustrations for the infographics of the web documentary, in order to give it an original and fresh style.

“Hunc igitur terrorem animi tenebrasque necessest
non radii solis neque lucida tela diei
discutiant, sed naturae species ratioque”   Lucretius (vv. 146-148)

 This selection of works is the first vestige of a pictorial research that finds in nature– and particularly in the forms of trees and plants – a fount of inquiry and inspiration. This was how I came to borrow the title, “De Rerum Natura,”as homage to the poem written by Lucretius in the first century B.C.

In “De Rerum Natura” the philosopher identifies the understanding of nature as an essential instrument in nearing humankind to the essence of things, and thus to authentic happiness. He criticizes the acquisition of material goods, proposing natural goods in their place and contests the submission to religious diktats, placing nature at the center of the universe.

Parting from these premises, my research is based in Lucretian thought, a founding basis and stimulus with which to observe the nature that surrounds me. I am particularly focused on the observation of trees and plants, which are not often perceived of as identifiable individuals but as blurred backgrounds.

As in the Dino Buzzati novel, The Secret of the Old Woods, trees are transformed into presences, assuming the appearance of creatures that are different from humans anatomically, but equally capable of feeling and evoking the same sentiments and passions that the human spirit can. The form of the plants and trees becomes a pretext for recounting stories of a world that has become unknown or simply forgotten, immersed as we are in today’s digitalized reality.

“I have tried to remove weight, sometimes from people, sometimes from heavenly bodies, sometimes from cities,” writes Calvino. “Above all I have tried to remove weight from the structure of stories and from language.” This idea of pursuing lightness inspired me deeply in the making of this series.

After making the paintings I hang them to “dry” in public spaces around the city to stimulate interaction with the public.

It was inspired by Pablo Neruda’s XV poem “Me Gusta Cuando Callas”. The verses of the poem had been previously painted on a wall of the factory.  I wanted to open up a dialogue with the artist who designed Neruda’s words and keep the verses alive by giving them a three-dimensional shape.