Arianna and the Rope...
The story of a Biography
Arianna Cox was born in Parma in 1975. She studied the art of drawing and painting with her uncle ( on her mother's side ) Bruno Bertolini, professional painter during the '40s. She's been living the Art since she was a child, becoming receptive and charmed by every form of it.
“I had my first encounter with Art when I was a toddler. My uncle was a painter so it was impossible to avoid it for long. When I was five, the atelier was my beautiful playground: the smell of turpentine, the colours badly pressed; the canvas yet to be ended, the copper plates, the frame pieces and the paper pictures with drawings appearing already perfect to me I could imagine the movings under the traits of the paintbrushes: it could be raining all the afternoon long but I knew I would be wandering through unusual landscapes, imperfect complexions, emotions falsely hidden behind little movings and shades, so true I could hear the noise. It is quite unbelievable my first love was writing: when I came to learn the importance of little things, of how magnificent was the everyday life in its simplicity, I told everything in poetry, and tales...and songs in a musical “The Moon and the Wind” which mixes up my passion for Drama with the love of telling stories nobody notices or doesn't want to”.
The passion for painting, the great soul teacher, burns under the embers of these experimentations and stands - waiting for a long time - to be heard.
The death of her uncle at the beginning of the new Millenium, sends back to her childhood remembrances: that sacrificial sparkle takes her to a reinterpretation in the only dimension which best reveals herself.
“I've never believed Art could be bound to our conscious potentialities. In its concept of ethereal essence, of the Everything which conveys the Nothing, it mingles without explanation to our emotions, powerful and uncatchable in their own nature, giving life to something exclusive that doesn't need to be understood, but has to be absolutely lived”.
Another magic taught by my father: taking and developing pictures: those grey tones no digital syntesis can reproduce, so close to the Truth that little by little they emerge so limpid from the liquids, mingled as in a potion, is - to me – a mysterious example of how Science and Art, perfect strangers, can extenuate in creating a magnificent symbiosis. Art is a great teacher and I, as the sorcerer's apprentice, will keep on trying, failing and making out.