Metamorphosis

Mottled sausages, icy landscapes with worms that seem to have died trying to make it over hurdles, portals to impossible lands: welcome to the accidental world of ceramist and drawer Anne Brugni.

Anne Brugni’s workspace resembles a sort of paper autopsy gone wrong, with marbled organs, multicolored hides and strange texts scrawled in shaky brushed script scattered around. We are witnesses to a new sort of Frankenstein, who pieces all of these disparate parts together to create new creatures: joyful, perplexing, but always in the end, intriguing.

Metamorphosis is a period piece of a work in progress, a cross section of ideas that eliminates a good quantity of works already made, and ignores the future. It is not a “best of”. The book itself is made in the same manner of the works displayed within: using instinct, not too much revision (but revision nonetheless) and just enough material to give a glimpse of a narrative without becoming redundant or conclusive. The primary question that the work makes us pose is: What? What does this represent? What is this material? What is going on?

Therein lies the attraction, for the work is not for curious people, it makes people curious. It demands us to ask questions, to question it and ourselves at the same time. Sure the material is profane: simply paper & clay (if boiled down to the bare essentials). But the treatment, the textures and compositions give us clues to a mania, a research, an exploration that is flabbergasting.