“Mauro Cuppone’s ‘signs’ are the only certainties in necessary uselessness.” (Mr. and Mrs. Smith, “Light tautologies: when the English clock strikes 7 English strokes”) / If art exists, it is the (vain) effort to make known that there is nothing to know; the most titanic of undertakings: the necessary exercise of tautology, the Promethean gift of uselessness, the only theft from the Divine that the avant-gardes of the human species are truly capable of, that is, the artists chained to their resort rocks. Whether the Truth is the Land of the Fathers or the Promised Land, roots or future, it is not a surface on which to rest one’s feet – either because of the incommensurability of the surface or the immobility of the feet – nothing that Zeus should worry about; a dark forest of luminous signs that refer to themselves, a monopoly in which every throw of the dice always refers us, democratically, to the Way / Between animal entrails and slot machines, between Kabbalah and Big Bangs, divin-action tragically returns always and only to coincidence (oh!) with oneself: ultimately with immobility / And if Parmenides’ Being and Freud’s Witz were the same thing? The certainty of being ridiculous.

true art sees beyond / 2023 / paint on aluminium plate / 90 x 120 x 2 cm

true art makes no mistakes / 2023 / paint on aluminium plate / 90 x 120 x 2 cm

true art reads the present / 2023 / paint on aluminium plate / 90 x 120 x 2 cm

true art is always right / 2023 / paint on aluminium plate / 90 x 120 x 2 cm