Realist is the specialization with its obstinacy in observing only the things contained within a defined field. The realist imposes the weight of situations. The fiscal receipt is realist. The ingenuity with technological method is realist. The day of a worker is realist when freedom of action is steered by a hegemonic economy. Delacroix writes about painting: “The realist will thus correct in a painting the inflexible perspective that, through its precision, distorts the view of objects.” I am not a realist.

Arianna Giorgi

Everyone outside looking at a concrete wall. Outside, on this wall, they’ve even hung stickers. The concrete wall is dullness, indifference, impotence; the stickers are the mockery of those who built it and those who protect it. Some see the stickers, some see the concrete wall. In either case, nothing happens. I, who see the concrete wall, thought of building myself a concrete room (without windows). Inside and outside a concrete room. Outside to disturb, shake, provoke storms or celebrations; inside to break it with imagination. Perhaps unknowingly, unwillingly, they have built us a new bomb. But the shards we will not display in a museum—we will transform them. Around and inside this bomb I hear someone snapping their fingers: they’re nervous because they’re excited, they’re tense with anticipation of something, they’re joyful and snap their fingers to a music, on the ground there are concrete eggs.

Luisa Protti