WORK

ENG Distance is a dimension that permeates our experiences, a complex concept that spans both space and time. It is a physical measure, but it also takes on a metaphorical dimension, allowing us to reflect on our existence and the connections we have with the people and things around us. In the spatial context, distance is evident in the thousands of miles that separate distant places. When we cross geographical barriers, we experience encounters with what is different from us, thus enriching our perspective of the world. But distance is not only a matter of space; it is also manifested in time. Human history is littered with past eras, vanished civilizations and people who lived before us and did things before us. Desiring to connect with the past allows us to literally discover new worlds, crossing the thresholds of the physically possible. Distance in time and space creates challenges in communication, but it also drives us to find innovative ways to overcome these barriers. This desire to communicate with distant places and the past is intrinsic to human beings because it reflects our innate curiosity, our search for connection and meaning. Through communication, we can transcend space-time barriers and make connections beyond our individual existence. Hiro Hirotaka, through his works, deeply examines the theme of communication between places and times far removed from his everyday life, and to do so he uses art, a universal language whose letters are images. He uses the motif of the seven gods of fortune to communicate with invisible deities, he creates the theme of the canoe to communicate with people he has recently seen, he uses the theme of the telephone to communicate with the past, with people who are no longer there. Finally, the cactus subject is charged with establishing a connection with people overseas. Through a rather peculiar technique, using acrylic paint and oil pigment that he drips into the interstices that form the outline of the image, the artist creates images deeply divided by a fracture that horizontally cuts the work in half. Each part of the work contains its own unique representation of the cactus going to create a mirrored representation but one that is, in fact, reflective of nothing at all. The plants, which seem to mirror each other, have the same formal characteristics, the same structure, the same structural conformation. Yet, although they look very similar, the two cacti seem to be composed of contrasting elements, of colors that are almost complementary. In a word: they are two different entities and so they must remain. Although the two cacti, like two souls, touch each other along this black dividing line, the two plants remain anchored to what they really are, without undergoing changes and mutations in their encounter with each other. They realize that they are very similar, that they have the same physical conformation and yet, in their souls they are so different, almost as complementary as the colors that characterize them. And therein lies the beauty. Neither cactus overpowers the other, and both realize that they are extremely similar, that they belong to the same species. Yet, just as it happens with human beings, each of them has its own uniqueness inside, its own soul that is completely different from that of the other as unique beings. These cacti, are just like us: we meet each other, we desire to communicate with each other, we assimilate new elements, new cultures and enrich who we are with new discoveries and relationships. Yet, our soul will remain as it is in that it cannot be changed. It is something unique and unrepeatable of its kind, and that is the beauty of it.

Lisa Galletti