Le Ossa della Luce

The work you are about to leaf through is neither a catalogue of architectural visions nor an exercise in stylistic world-building. These one hundred and three plates are, instead, the record of an archaeological excavation I have conducted within my own subconscious: the crystallization of a dream experience whose roots reach back into the shadowed territories of my childhood, to a time when I was three years old.

What you see is what I define as Oneiric Brutalism: a stylistic language in which the rigor of concrete and the angularity of structures do not serve to build shelters for human beings, but to give a visible skeleton to the invisible. Mine is a metaphysical architecture: it inhabits the “after” and the “beyond.” These staircases I have drawn that lead nowhere, these pillars that support the void and the volumes suspended in nothingness, are not design errors, but representations of my existential condition. They are my “non-places,” liberated from the tyranny of utility. In a world where everything must serve a purpose, my structures assert the right to exist out of pure spiritual necessity.

My inspiration does not arise from a pursuit of aesthetic brilliance, but from a cathartic urgency. I did not seek to invent; I sought to translate. These images are my graphic transcription of liquid nightmares, of hypnagogic visions which, if left free in the darkness of my mind, would become unbearable. Fixing them onto cotton paper, incising them with the force of acrylic and shaping them with the delicacy of watercolour, is, for me, an act of exorcism. To put something “in black and white” means to give my anguish a boundary, transforming the terror of the nightmare into the solemnity of a monument.

The atmospheres surrounding these 103 stations are characterized by skies that I have deliberately stripped of their nature. They are dark rifts, at times tinged with a blood-red hue that recalls to me the living flesh of an open wound. I am not depicting an alien world, but the rendering of my own soul laid bare: the structures are my bones, the voids are the silences of my thoughts, the skies are the blood of my emotion.

Within this setting, my post-atomic vision merges with transcendence. It is the design of a possible future that I hope — and that we hope — never to have to live through, yet which I already inhabit within the most secret spaces of my inner world. It bears witness to what remains when everything superfluous has been stripped away: a naked, motionless, immortal structure, waiting for you in the absolute silence of the page.

This collection is therefore my invitation to lose yourself within an architecture that offers no shelter to the body, but compels the soul to look upward, toward those infinite stairways which, even though we know they lead nowhere, point toward a truth that is both profound and terrifying.