Qu. So, Antonio, how did you you start painting airports?

A. For a certain time my training as a painter went in many directions. Then at a certain point I felt the need to paint by circumscribing the subject as much as possible. I wanted to fix the moment, excluding people and instead painting spaces in a style that was as fluid as possible. I found the right subject in airports, and this because of a curious series of events. I was waiting at Malpensa to catch a plane for Alghero a few years ago. The airport had only opened a few days before. Everything went wrong and the flight was delayed by seven or eight hours. I found myself having to spend long hours in those spaces and successively, when travelling through various airports around the world, I have found myself observing these places, in which people spend a lot of time and even find it natural to live in.

Qu. Looking at your works from close to, or simply observing some parts of them for a long time, one discovers some curious details. For example, that the initial impression of precision and sharpness is contradicted by some indistinct or imprecise zones.

A. Well, what I like is painting, all of painting. For a certain period, I produced bad painting. And although you might not say so looking at my pictures, I also like material painting... and indeed I’m not that precise; for example, I paint everything in one go. Although it is true that then I retouch a lot; I’m a painter full of ‘pentimenti’. And I also feel attracted by objects that “fry”, such as the announcement boards or monitors that look ready to explode. At times I would like to paint and accentuate this effect of “frying” a little, but then I fall back into my old ways of clarity.

Qu. And your choice of colours?

A. I like industrial greens and blues. They recall some films with greenish atmospheres where even the lighting seems worn out. I like to take into account the pure retinal perception.

Qu. You spoke of a desire to circumscribe the subject. You reminded me of one of those imaginary writers of Borges, Ramon Bonavena, who wrote a 900 page book describing a corner of his desk. Here’s the provocative question I want to pose you: isn’t there a risk of circumscribing too much?

A. No, on the contrary painting is freedom. In our daily lives, almost everything is decided for us by others. Everything has been decided. The uselessness and freedom of painting keeps us afloat.

2 April 2008