My work occupies the moment a system of authority, cultural, linguistic, religious, or algorithmic, stops behaving as it was designed to, and starts showing the mechanism underneath.

Fifteen years inside the production logic of commercial Motion Graphics and Art Direction across Berlin, Barcelona, and Shanghai gave me an insider’s fluency in how images are engineered to be believed. Since returning to Sicily to focus entirely on my independent practice, I have turned that fluency against itself, using processes from industrial production to craft unique pieces that heighten the ambiguity between what appears mass-produced and what is irreducibly handmade.

I paint the instruction instead of the image it would produce, so the machine’s neutrality becomes the thing on display. A gesture inherited from my own culture is 3D modelled, reversed, and fixed permanently in stone, turning a reductionist stereotype into an act of resistance. I repaint thirty small, instantly recognisable faces (the kind that once guaranteed every story would end well) crying, one after another, until the repetition becomes the argument.

I don’t resolve any of this. I hold the crack open, long enough to be looked at.