Anna Gramaccia – Simone Zaccagnini

Annarumma Gallery, Naples, Italy

February 23 – March 23, 2017


In those days of summer which reached forty degrees and higher, the white cats seemed to be particularly prolic. These scorched ghosts lurked among the streets and I couldn’t but help envision each one as a sort of pure white grim reaper, ready to pounce at any moment.

I remember the day we both decided to embark on this draining course of action.
“Do you want a holiday home? Yes or no?”
It was a rather rudimentary question, but the domino effects afterwards were not those I had envisioned. In a haze of sun-bleached perfection, it had all seemed like such a good idea. It was that New York energy again, that one
I left behind in the summer of ‘69, I can do anything and I will! Where had this bliss disappeared to? In the ether dissolved their spark, something they both embraced silently.

Slow it all down.
Hold your horses.
Steady on there, my friend.

Reality had a much slower tempo and it suited them down to a T.

You shall make three windows on each wall, light should be a priority. My memory superimposes squares of sensual blues together, set perfectly into the wall. Together we add poetry to stone, the surfaces now mirroring the ripples along your spine.
Polished concrete
Stainless steel
How does it feel?
Pay for it later
Put it on credit
Do you accept debit?

Its purpose would change, the form remaining close to that which was intended. Neither of them knew how to construct a stable home, a solid capsule to contain them in. It was to become a transformer of sorts, holiday home slash tomb, or perhaps this is the true form, a doubled sided sword, never admitted by those inhabiting the idea. This was how it was to be built. The length should be thirty cubits; it’s breadth ve cubits and its height three cubits. There was to be one dominant window facing the sea, the rest of the building would be encased in concrete. Any wood included in the construction would be cypress wood, a wood perfectly suited to the harsh climate that left them both sitting in grey, saggy denim.

Text by Scott Henry Elliott



Anna Gramaccia works on an idea of surface and the process of its transformation, using few basic materials, such as those related to the drawing, forcing certain formal limits to assume a three-dimensional and at the same time fragile consistency.
Marker drawings on paper, engraved, destroyed and de brated, raise a dense and smooth volume.

Continuous surfaces folded into structural frameworks, lling the background, they hung as blankets, to cover and de ne a “habitable” space.

For this exhibition at Annarumma gallery, Simone Zaccagnini presents a series of shaped, extruded and padded canvases.
His work takes place skipping and swigging the painting’s guideline, collapsing onto a plastic space, framing and compressing 90’s FuBu shirts, patches, saggy denims and industrial extra-heavy black glue.

The shape as a customized consequence of a deconstruction.
The lines as a quiet and endless need of a drawing, of new pulsating material and of a “wearable” identity. The whole series lines up on the foreground as a neighborhood crew.