Plastic Forms and Vivid Colours in the Creativity of Luigi Sergi

Massimo Guastella

I have known Luigi Sergi since November 2012. Like with other artists originally from Salento who emigrated to northern Italy at a young age, I had been following his work for some time. However, it was on that date that we had the opportunity to collaborate on an exhibition project for CRACCsrl, a spin-off of the University of Salento, curating the “Sculpture Symposium” at the MAP (Mediterranean Museum of Contemporary Art), set up in the Church of San Michele Arcangelo of the Scuole Pie in Brindisi. The aim of the exhibition was to offer a broad view of the various methods and materials used to interpret the concept of the “statue” in recent decades, with particular focus on artists from the Terra d’Otranto region, as well as a few distinguished examples from other backgrounds. From that point on, our relationship—or rather, our correspondence—grew steadily closer and more enduring. A few brief biographical notes about him: Luigi (born in 1952) trained at the Art Institute and then at the Academy of Fine Arts in Lecce, where he completed his sculpture studies in 1975. He began his artistic activity in the early 1970s, holding his first solo exhibition in Presicce between December 1969 and January 1970 at the Hotel La Stella del Sud. From 1976, he continued his career in Rome, where he relocated. During his two-year stay in the capital, his artistic language was enriched and deeply influenced by the city’s vibrant cultural scene and his encounters with two prominent figures: his fellow countryman and friend Rocco Coronese, his former teacher at the Lecce Academy, and Corrado Cagli, with whom he developed a close relationship. In 1980, he moved to Novara, where he obtained a professorship in Art subjects, making it his adopted city without ever losing touch with his roots. Speaking of his homeland, he says: “What I carry with me is above all the light, the colour, the blues, the earth, the greens—all those pigments that eventually settled into my works.” His works, described by Marco Rosci as “lunar landscapes,” are “translations into fragmented, dynamic surfaces of light-colour—condensed and expanded, harsh and sweet at once—of topographies you can’t quite define or ‘feel’—with that typical ambiguity between surrealism and illusionistic hyperrealism—whether they belong to the macrocosm or the inner microcosm of dreams.” That early Roman period marked the beginning of a personal journey and deep reflection on the psychology of form. Giovanni Cordero identified four key principles in Sergi’s work, starting with: “A focus on analysing the psychic phenomena of visual perception and the interdependent relationship between image and background, where simple, sober, unadorned forms—combinations of basic surfaces—engage in dialogue with space.” His works have always centred on material and its representation, reflecting a clear inclination toward experimentation with plastic and pictorial forms. From the outset, Sergi has shown little interest in market trends or popular styles. As he puts it: “I believe fashions fade; art, on the other hand, should endure through time.” For this reason, his works challenge the dichotomy between painting and sculpture, developing what he defines as “sculpto-painting” or “pictosculpture”—a kind of “macro-text,” as his practice spans

painting and sculpture in pursuit of harmony between disciplines, each with its own internal, technical-pragmatic statute. His goal is to find a balance between expressive mediums that meet, cross-pollinate, and transform one another. Throughout his career, Sergi has consistently avoided figurative art, opting instead for aniconic and non-representational outcomes. His experimentation draws inspiration from Mediterranean classicism and, by tapping into what Rosci calls “the contemporary laws of abstract formal rationality,” aligns with “the great abstract-constructivist tradition born from the pure, puritanical rigour of Mondrian’s Northern European legacy.” He has employed humble, everyday materials—such as simple ping-pong balls—endowing his works with strong conceptual value. Among his most playful and lighthearted creations is the series “I pacchi – opere d’arte” (roughly, “Parcels – Artworks”), started around 1983 and continued through 1998–1999. This series demonstrates a certain technical virtuosity in mimicking crumpled paper, with painterly effects and chiaroscuro, creating a visual game between surface and depth. One of the most intriguing features of his symbolically rich work—something that, according to Massimiliano Cesari, makes it enigmatic and in need of interpretation—are the “proliferating spheres,” which have become the artist’s favourite form: “the solid that best represents the perfection of the cosmos, a shape with no anchorage in everyday reality, as it eludes any tactile grounding of its surface.” A particularly significant example of his artistic exploration is the piece Vicendevolmente si amano l’un l’altro (Mutually They Love Each Other, 2003–2004), a sculpture displayed at MAP in 2011 and later donated to the University of Salento’s Contemporary Art Collection (CdAC). This work, combining plastic and pictorial elements—hallmarks of Sergi’s style—features two abstractly shaped, pop-coloured structures. It can be seen as a kind of trompe-l’oeil, with its deceptive perspective offering a meditation on love, while also serving as a synthesis of his ongoing research into spheres and simulated crumpled paper—emblems of his exploration of form and illusion. I saw this same research echoed in his painted, brightly coloured sculptures installed at the cemetery of Gagliano del Capo. It was there that we met in person for the first time, during the exhibition Volo delle Anime (Flight of Souls) in September 2023 (opened the previous July). The series of works—representing his most recent output—explores various formal and chromatic approaches combined with everyday objects, including the concept of beauty in the face of death. In that particular setting, his creative spirit seemed more contemplative than melancholic, and even serene in the face of human transience. I noted in his “installative paintings” the deliberate delicacy of butterfly-like forms in flight—an aesthetic solution placed along the path, evoking personal, hidden stories faded by time. The culmination of this long artistic and reflective journey is the workshop Dentro l’Arte (Inside Art), which explores the relationship between artist, studio, and audience—the latter actively engaged by the very nature of the space itself. From his adopted city of Novara, Sergi has followed through with the coherent conclusion of this path: the Casa dell’Arte (House of Art) in his hometown of Presicce (LE), which opened to the public in July 2024. For Luigi Sergi, it marks a new beginning—where memory becomes reality.