The work of Gino De Dominicis and attempting to stop the irreversibility of time. Hanging on a white wall of Bologna Art Fair in black and white picture of a ball, a rubber ball. The image is clear: There is a floor and the floor, motionless, a ball of black rubber, 30 cm diameter, 300 mm.
Lopera photographed, given that this is a famous art installation, is
Gino de Dominicis , painter, sculptor, architect, born in Ancona, a city of sea and wind, anarchist and republican.
Who recalls the wax: 1972, the Venice Biennale. Three installations: Young Down. Stone. Rubber ball. He was the pandemonium. The hall was closed. The artist reported and prosecuted.
Art is eternal, he said, and this power derives from his immobility. Yes, add this: what has impermalente motion is by its nature, that is intended to be overwhelmed dallentropia, the art belongs to a dimension, immortal, outside time and space, is immortal. Time and space govern the value dellentropia, index dellespansione of the University.
And the photo of the rubber ball was there, hanging on the wall, framed and hung on a nail to overcome gravity, governed by a coefficient, 9.8, never equal to himself, tending to infinity. A disaster.
Nail and rubber balls, arm in arm in an attempt to stop lirreversibilità time. We walk past, that photo, drunk with a thousand other things seen and on which the discussion was and then she reappears after so many years, 39, to break the previous balance Larchwood, barely reached through their time, and 39 is a number three, if not divisible by 3.
Yet, despite all the rubber ball is still there, once again revived, once again, black, flat on the floor, still, still, yet more than ever alive and dynamic, more than ever in flight just before fall from above 2 meters, a moment later bounced: his being a second view is extraordinary.
And to think, is well known that Gino de Dominicis did not like the photo, he called tyranny and not a replacement case, they say, had developed a real strategy of resistance against it.
Now the rubber ball keeps bouncing in our heads relentlessly slams against our grammars expressive, breaks the prepositions, disconnects the double bonds, creating new pieces to decipher, to relocate, perhaps, inside of our imaginary green box.
How much gratitude, how much love for this man who knew God antigravity sit for hours and hours on a rock looking out to sea and thinking of Gilgamesh, the fabulous ladies of the Mesopotamian city of Uruk, throwing stones to try to square the circle.
