Un assoluto al posto di Dio: Alessandro Fogo

Alessandro Fogo introduces a new body of work in which he continues his exploration of the sacred, the mythological, and the symbolic. The exhibition presents a collection of references from different times and contexts, not only to layer meaning, but to bring what belongs to an abstract and allegorical realm closer to what is intimate, personal, and everyday. Common to the artist’s practice, the continuous shift in scale, like a cinematic zoom in and out, creates a perceptual disruption. What ultimately emerges from this interplay of symbols is not an escape into a dream or fantasy, but a reframing of reality itself, revealing it in a new and unfamiliar way.

In earlier works, the sense of spatial and temporal suspension in Fogo’s paintings stemmed largely from a detachment from reality, achieved through surreal atmospheres and intensely saturated colors. In his more recent pieces, however, the settings feel more grounded. Compressed spaces, muted light, and a rarefied stillness remain believable, even as they subtly unsettle the viewer. By antithesis, this results in the process of estrangement, as subjects appear familiar, yet within certain contexts we no longer recognize them. In Ipotesi per una scultura (2026), echoes of Balthus are evident in the reclining figure, while masks in the background recall Brancusi’s muses. These references coexist within a quiet, domestic scene.

At the core of the exhibition is the idea of the divine Absolute, a concept widely examined in philosophy, but one that today appears to take on new and shifting meanings. The sacred, perhaps unconsciously, has been replaced by personal absolutes that guide humankind in the face of existential uncertainty. Moving away from a purely nihilistic view, the artist treats this emptiness as an open question. Fogo sees it as a void that can be filled with his own pantheon, a constellation of personal and iconographic references, suggesting the possibility of new mythologies and new ways of representing them.

This approach is evident in La Cacciata (2026), where the figures of Adam and Eve, recalling Masaccio, are reduced to small dark silhouettes, stripped of their original drama and placed within a larger, almost theatrical setting. Suspended on a steel structure at the center of the gallery, the installation Icona (2017) instead merges personal history with layered symbolism. A small Orthodox icon, which the artist had altered and painted over during his student years in Belgium, points to a continuity of concerns that persist and evolve within his practice. Elevated in space, it testifies both to a beginning and an ongoing transformation in the present, its meaning unfolding in relation to the works surrounding it.

Formally, Fogo’s subjects embody a striking duality. On one hand, they feel elusive and incomplete, resisting clear interpretation. The ephemeral image of God in Straniero in terra straniera (2026), for example, flickers behind a red and blue holographic presence, like a digital or mental projection. On the other hand, they also appear calm, composed, and almost monumental, hinting at an intensity held beneath their surface. In Colombe (2026), the composition is meticulously controlled, yet the cage at its center is too small to contain the birds’ restless energy. Likewise, in the portrait Apatia (2026), the subject’s psychological tension seeps through a mask-like face that only appears expressionless. Even in Naufragio (2026), the sense of drama is held in suspension, as everything seems on the verge of collapse, yet the collapse never comes – the motionless boat in the distance reinforces this sense of stillness.

Like the protagonist of Robert A. Heinlein’s science fiction novel Straniero in terra straniera (1961), a reference the artist explicitly invokes, the exhibition raises the question: is it possible to imagine a new kind of absolute? By dissolving the boundary between subject and object, in line with Heinlein’s idea of grok*, Fogo presents the relationship between the individual and reality not as something fixed, but as a fragile and unstable construct shaped by perception.

A related perspective, which certainly inspired the artist, can be found in the work of the Italian writer Vitaliano Trevisan, to whom one of the few faithful portraits in the exhibition is dedicated. Fogo draws from Trevisan’s Works (2016), displaying an excerpt at the entrance to his studio. The text reflects critically on the modern obsession with self-realization, ultimately suggesting that what truly matters is not the self, but the act of making – of creating something beyond oneself. It reads:

“And it made me think, all that anxiety about self-realization through work. Actually, it makes me think more generally. To realize oneself. To realize myself! And then, once I’ve realized myself, what should I do—hang myself on a wall? Put myself on display on a shelf, or worse on a pedestal, or worse still, rent myself out by the hour to settle into some stupid living room in the company of other ‘realized’ people and spout my stupid opinions on anything? Or else—and this would be the best case—throw a hammer at myself and ask why I am not speaking? By the way: has anyone ever killed themselves with a hammer? But I am not in danger. If ‘to realize oneself’ means ‘to make oneself real,’ I must say that, quite instinctively, I have always tried to do exactly the opposite; and if it means ‘to become real to oneself,’ even worse, because I’ve always had the impression of being too real already, and if anything I’d rather be less so. To realize something outside oneself is a completely different matter. There’s no need to think too much about it, only the work matters.”
(From Works by Vitaliano Trevisan – Einaudi)

*grok: a central concept in Robert A. Heinlein’s Straniero in terra straniera, a word from a fictional Martian language, meaning to understand something so completely and intuitively that the boundary between subject and object disappears and you become one with it.

— Text by Federico Montagna