Baj. Baj chez Baj

‘A large rectangular hall, distinguished by its ancient decorations and strongly marked by the war damage that has remained imprinted on the masonry and stucco work, poses a daunting challenge for curators and architects who have to set up an exhibition with the grace of one who enters a temple on tiptoe. Dialogue, in this case, is preferable to a short circuit. Better to aim for lightness rather than interference.

The works of enrico baj, famous for their exuberance of matter and colour, tassels and trimmings, have heightened the challenge. The monumental size of some of the works, the triumphs of tapestries and mirrors, the monsters at large of the apocalypse, the marching generals or the hydraulic dames adorned with siphons and taps – although perfect for a ‘gala party’ set, as Italo Calvino would have defined it – could have created a discord, which was resolved, however, by the invisible presence of monochrome and natural supports, lightened in turn by reflecting surfaces that allowed the wood to float in space.

Thanks to the project of the architect umberto zanetti and the velvety atmosphere provided by Viabizzuno’s lighting solutions, it was possible to pay homage to baj and, above all, to realise one of his dreams. When, in 1953, picasso exhibited guernica at the cariatidi, a masterpiece denouncing all war and all violence exercised by power, enrico baj imagined that he himself could create a painting equally militant and absolute in its themes, which could be placed in the palazzo in the same way as the catalan genius’ canvas. This happened with i funerali dell’anarchico pinelli (the funeral of the anarchist pinelli), which, however, by sad history, was never staged, with rare exceptions in fifty years of Italian mysteries buried by omertà.

On the occasion of the baj chez baj exhibition, it was possible to exhibit, for the first time, the work in its original composition, with the cobblestones, the detached and relief figures, as well as the famous window raised four metres high, which cites the great pablo’s electric lamp with all the torturers’ hands waving in the air. A Viabizzuno shaping spotlight illuminated, like a stele in the dark, that mute scream suspended in the exact heart of the room.

Around the funerali, the exhibition’s journey has been designed as an embrace. A succession of recurring subjects and iconographies (the ultrabodies, the meccanoes, the furniture, devils, torturers, anarchists, women on the run, snakes, eyes, aliens or pataphysical creatures) in order to restore the coherence of a research that has always remained true to itself while modifying and moulding itself to the spirit of the times that the artist has gone through.

A long, poignant script, divided into ten sections and sixty works, thus summarised – passing through pinelli’s painful climax – a fundamental chapter in the history of art and, at the same time, in the political and social history of our country. ’