The art of summoning the sea

The Art of Summoning the Sea

The sea is my endless source of inspiration and mystery; it has shaped my being and creativity in ways only those who have experienced and loved it can understand. Every stroke I make is a tribute to its majesty, an attempt to capture the very essence of its depths. Take the waves, for example: it took me a lifetime to find the right lines to translate the elegance of their interplay into a mark, to express their sinuosity and the power of their movement in a single stroke. I have dedicated years to perfecting their forms, striving to capture that magical moment when a wave dissipates into the briny air.

The same goes for the creatures that inhabit it and embody its mystery: dolphins. They are not the fish of aquatic parks, leaping with their noses out of the water. Dolphins are my companions in the universe of drawing, they are lines of pure movement following the waves, accompanying boats in the open sea. They are the arched backs reflecting starlight, the fins parting the water and allowing plankton to surface, their strong breaths conveying security and serenity. It took me twenty years of study, sketches, crumpled and discarded sheets to encapsulate all this in a graphic stroke.

Using the same process of work and research, I also drew a fish that, when seen live, unsettles and scares me with its boldness and aggression, masterfully described by Ernest Hemingway in his novel “The Old Man and the Sea,” of which he was an avid fisherman. I am talking about the Marlin: to make it the guiding theme of my decorations for Saspa, the yacht I mentioned in a previous post, I had to work extensively on abstraction, transforming its ferocity into an element of beauty and strength, making it the focal point of my creations.

I employ the same approach when drawing knots or crafting them concretely: in their composition, I am constantly searching for an expressiveness that reflects my feelings, and this expression has been legally recognized, winning various cases against those who had copied me, rightly thinking that I hadn’t invented the knots. The judgment acknowledged that I had reintroduced them, giving them my own distinctive expression and that, for their intricate beauty, they had become my trademark.

Each knot is born as if it were a unique work of art, the result of years of research and experimentation. It is from knots that the last story I want to tell you about my relationship with drawing arises. Japanese clients have opened seven shops in Tokyo to market my collections, and when they asked me to expand my artistic repertoire by creating new paintings with different subjects, I didn’t even have time to touch the pencil to the drawing paper, and here I am returning to the roots of my “journey,” bringing back the sensations of crossing the Mediterranean from which I had been reborn, finding myself once again. I created a composition inspired by the routes formed by lines that traced a path through my depths. My journey into the world of drawing the sea is an endless odyssey, an exploration of the depths of the human soul through the waves and the silvery reflections of the surface.