The project is an investigation of the landscape, understood not only as a representation of reality, but also as a symbolic space in which memories, perceptions, personal and collective experiences are stratified. In this context, the landscape becomes a conceptual space, not a neutral or objective representation, but rather a subjective interpretation influenced by the concept of time. It is a nexus where memory, history and identity converge.
Nicola Nannini's paintings intertwine with the unpublished text by the writer Simona Vinci - winner of the Premio Campiello in 2016 – resulting in a multifaceted narrative where the lines between reality and imagination become indistinct.
Nicola Nannini's works exist simultaneously in memory, the present, and a future vision that is still forming. His suspended scenarios, surreal atmospheres, contemporary figures and those that seem to have emerged from another time create passages that allow different epochs to mingle and interact. Each painting thus becomes a threshold where the past and the potential future touch and interact.
Simona Vinci's text celebrates the evocative power of landscapes and offers a new interpretative perspective by engaging in dialogue with the images through a writing that welcomes and revives suggestions, resonances and inner visions. The story does not limit itself to describing what is seen, but explores what is perceived, what is imagined, what remains beneath the surface. It is a choral narration, made up of multiple voices. It is the landscape and its forms, everyday objects, silent architecture and the people who inhabit or pass through the spaces that speak.
Each scene provides an opportunity to slow down, observe carefully, and let oneself be drawn into a web of signs and meanings. In an era dominated by speed and the constant flux of images that flow by without leaving a trace, the act of stopping to really see - any place, a street, a window, a face - means restoring depth to the experience, to what appears ephemeral, and acknowledging that each fragment, every detail and every passer-by has a story, a presence, and the potential for narration.
The exhibition thus becomes an invitation to the visitor to observe, recognise themself, project their own memories, and imagine other possible stories.
We know the colour of every single house on our journey, plasters have crumbled before our eyes and powders of blue, yellow and orange have settled on our skin and under our fingernails. We are made of colour, darkness, absence and stories. (Simona Vinci, Non è ancora buio)
In CUBO's exhibition space at Porta Europa, a section dedicated to daytime landscapes takes shape. This visual investigation focuses on the complex interplay of territory, time, and human presence. Nannini creates a narrative in which the landscape acts as a reflection of identity, capturing individual and collective tensions and stories. The protagonists are not only the inhabitants of the place, but also figures that appear to come from elsewhere — from different geographical spaces, cultures and times. Another element of Nannini's painting sometimes manifests itself, that of irony, generated by the contrast between a realistic pictorial language and the representation of improbable or surreal situations. Paradoxical events, evocative titles, and the contrast between the potential drama of the scene and the characters' indifference generate an alienating effect in seemingly banal contexts.
What would the night be without a place to observe it from? What would night be without something to catch the light and keep it steady? A road, a tree, a sign, the outline of a house, a white fence, an iron railing, a cat crossing the road, a hedge darker than darkness itself. (Simona Vinci Non è ancora buio)
In CUBO's exhibition space at the Unipol Tower, the section dedicated to nocturnal landscapes comes to life, presenting suspended scenarios on the border between light and darkness, revealing and concealing in equal measure. In these rarefied environments, the landscape becomes a place of waiting and contemplation, where perception intensifies and time stretches out, almost losing its consistency.
This is the realm of introspection, where dreams, the subconscious and the intangible presences of the immaterial emerge. The night, with its artificial lights and deep shadows, does not conceal; it slowly reveals, inviting the gaze to linger and lose itself in imagining the unseen.
