To say that Roberto Ferri (Taranto, 1978) is an artist from another time would be too simplistic an interpretation of a body of work that requires a deep reading and allows for the enjoyment of contemplation that does not tire the viewer. Self-taught, at 21 he moved to Rome to deepen his interest and passion for works from the 16th century onwards, which define the strokes of his paintings ---in which we can easily identify centuries of figurative tradition--- to later graduate with honors from the Academy of Fine Arts of the eternal city.
He has been considered the Caravaggio of our days, for his excellent use of chiaroscuro with an almost emotional character, and other great painters also come to mind when contemplating his works, such as Géricault, David, Delacroix, Bouguereau, or the symbolists and their references to mythology. Although he also names Dalí as part of his influences.
But Ferri's work fully belongs to our time despite those who believe that figuration is no longer in vogue or consider it artistic past. Simply, and as has been repeated throughout art history, he uses a previous model and revisits and updates it for today's and tomorrow's viewer. For this reason, parallels are also established in his canvases with contemporary works, such as Bill Viola's videography, Chris Cunningham's Flex, or director Tarsem Singh's richest period and that music video for R.E.M. Losing my religion, pieces whose contemporaneity no one would dare deny.
He has been considered the Caravaggio of our days, for his excellent use of chiaroscuro with an almost emotional characterThe European Museum of Modern Art in Barcelona (Meam) offers us this exhibition Introspectivewith a tour of about forty of the Italian's most significant works. Spectacular large-format pieces, others of medium size, and some excellent preparatory drawings that give absolute proof of Ferri's artistic quality and his ability to represent the body in all its splendor.
And the flesh. Because it is that naked body, both feminine and masculine, the true protagonist of his work. A beautiful anatomy, of skin and muscle, and bone too. Of folds and nooks that, just as happens when we see a Bernini sculpture, makes us want to sink our fingers into it. And also wounded. Flesh flayed at some point or, even, amputated, pierced by a metallic element or some powerful symbol of torment, which reminds us of the use of hair shirts in certain Christian religious practices, and evokes the spirituality of the martyrdom of the saints.
It may be because of that spirituality of the flesh that the Italian church has always known how to appreciate, that in 2010 he received the commission to paint 14 canvases on the Via Crucis for the Noto Cathedral in Sicily. The works were exhibited in the controversial Italian pavilion of the 2011 Venice Biennale and criticized for presenting an athletic and sensual image of Christ so characteristic of his production. But neither the controversy nor the criticism stopped the new and important commission made by the Church, this time no less than the Vatican, to paint two portraits of Pope Francis, which have the approval of the supreme pontiff.
Ferri's paintings distill the beauty that Baudelaire's poems always speak of, not only constituted by the canonically beautiful, good, and noble, but also by the irrational, grotesque, and excessive. Icons of physicality, beauty, torment, with a blatant excess of anachronism, in the Italian's works the raw, provocative, and erotically charged discourse ---as pointed out by the Meam--- also reminds us of another current Italian artist such as film director Paolo Sorrentino and his visual universe, with all due respect.
Ferri's paintings distill the beauty that Baudelaire's poems always speak of, not only constituted by the canonically beautiful, good, and noble, but also by the irrational, grotesque, and excessiveAll in all, the painter is still a small artisan, because in his workshop on the outskirts of Rome continues to use traditional pigments, as well as ancient techniquesfor the creation of colors, as was done during the Baroque period, a fact that prolongs production for years. His paintings are part of important public and private collections in major European capitals, and also in New York or Miami, and his works for the cathedral of Montepulciano in the province of Siena, or for the Convent of the Sisters of San José, in Genoa, stand out.
But beyond what is visible to the naked eye and the impressive technique he boasts, the symbolic and spiritual charge of his paintings becomes evident. In each and every one of them, there is something more: unsettling passion, beauty, and sensitivity.