"Why do you paint?" Querying minds phrase this question and it's derivatives innumerable times. Is it a form of hedonism, the ancient, instinctive, ardent way to seek pleasure? An exaggerated exhibition of my (presumed) abilities, as a way of defying strong technic criticisms I've received in the past? Perhaps I paint to communicate, to shout out what is in me. Or, quite plausibly, I paint for all of these reasons. Yet, I'm cognizant that these are all superficial rationalizations, for I feel as though I slip into another "persona" when I paint.  Technically, a hand is a hand, a head is a head, but when I create, they transcend superficial meaning. So I dig deep, what is moving me from form to form? I surmise that it is the delicate, intricate yearning to stimulate contemplation of the human being, the origin of his interior essence, his passage of physical life while acknowledging that interior cosmic perception of being something indefinable... part of something else, something larger, something grand. My paintings revolve around human beings and their metaphysical nudity. A nude man is only a “man”, a subject in which we can easily discern deep meaning. Clothes determine a human genre camouflaged by the conventions developed throughout the centuries, while the nude man is from the "nude" origin, with a powerful cosmic sense. Let us now examine the eternal, classic, fascinating concept of “bello,” involving the plasticity of the human body? Plasticity manifests in humanity with physical sensations: felicity, sadness, ache, gaiety, apathy. This is evidenced by one of my recent oil paintings, entitled “Cupid on the Human Apathy.” Yes! Cupid, strong with his physical presence that embraces the concept of a powerful mythological figure, is able to upset that recurring sense of apathy that torments part of the new generation. The atmosphere has not been very heavy or dark in my works. Often, a light symbolizes hope, like in the oil painting “Still a Light”, where many lamps are broken (which represents the error of the human genre) Yet, still a light shines to remind us of living hope. With all of these sentiments stewing in my soul, I ponder the appropriate medium of expression. The nuances of simple yet marvelous, ancient oil imbibe life into my figures, along with “velatura” after “velatura” ( the ancient technique used first time by Leonardo da Vinci consisting of many layers of dilute oil colour interacting by themselves for the final effect) I proceed, like a film director, to produce a show on canvas. I was on the moon a moment ago, and now I must slowly return to Earth to deal with mundane yet necessary thoughts. I am a professional painter, and therefore must sell my work. However, the best payment is seeing normal people ( persons not involved directly in art-critics, curators, art sellers, and so on) going into my oil painting scene and, like a daydream, living in it's intense atmosphere. The pressing issue in modern art is the absence of a “common language,” a detachment or estrangement from the artist and ordinary people. Art, considering it's universal meanings, is for all who want to feel it, and the fine art painter, through his visual work, is comissioned to decrease the distance. What is my dream, you ask? To leave a trace. Even if no one remembers your name, your trace,your message on the human highway, will remain. This is a goal all men share. If,one day, in a dusty attic of some old house, a curious, probing child looking for something to play with finds an a cracked canvas bearing my signature and looks at it, feeling what I felt, I will have been paid tenfold for my efforts.
Nino Scimeca