Our attitude towards our surroundings can often be inferred from the terms we use. When we talk about space, we probably refer to a metropolitan environment—an altered, convenient setting designed to make existence easier; conversely, when we talk about landscape, our reference is likely naturalistic, highlighting the challenges of that habitat, starting with the distances of open spaces. Attention to our projections onto the environment around us dates back almost a century, so choosing to paint nature instead of the city already says a lot about Marta Mancini, who makes a countercurrent choice, living, like most of us, in urban areas.

The natural landscape is divided by the horizon line and is one of the most widespread and intense symbolic elements. Here, the horizon serves to separate what is solid from what is airy. In these landscapes, elements are united by a sign-like treatment that links them, turning them into receptacles of a rather decisive pictorial attitude. Indeed, Marta Mancini seems to cultivate the illusion of being able to touch not only what lies on the horizon but also the clouds. Everything in front of her eyes undergoes a tactile transfiguration, choosing painting as a means of self-expression. Naturally, the effects of this treatment quickly become noticeable, so we perceive interferences between us and the landscape, multiplying it and creating layers on the canvas.

The strong subjective charge in Marta Mancini's work conveys a common destiny that unites the solid and the airy, a destiny that encompasses and absorbs even the accidents of painting, generated by intensely personal explorations. The color carries the marks of a chromatic soul, making it difficult to separate night from day in these profoundly unnatural landscapes, where nature is merely a pretext. It becomes evident that any landscape is only a metaphor for our condition, nothing more, and even less a place to live.

Paolo Aita