Matrix, pen on paper, 21 x 29 cm., 2007

Absulut, mixed media on table, 60 x 80 cm., 2007

Red and black polarity - front, mixed media, 160 x 60 cm., 2005

Abstract no. 15, pen and coloured ink on spanish paper, 135 x 90 cm., 2007

Spineshank, mixed media on paper, 12 x 12 cm, 2007

Cardinal Albornoz, pen and pencil on paper, 21 x 29 cm., 2007

Abstract no.12, pen on spanish paper, 55 x 80 cm., 2007

M. Drawing, pencil on spanish paper, 50 x 60 cm. ca, 2007

Windsor, pen on paper, 21 x 29 cm., 2007

Budapest, pen on paper, 21 x 29 cm., 2007

Steering, oil on canvas, 200 x 100 cm., 2006

from left to right:
Velasca Tower, oil on canvas, 170 x 113 cm., 2006
Colosseum Vertical, oil on canvas, 170 x 113 cm, 2007.
La Caixa, oil on canvas, 170 x 113 cm., 2007.

Colosseo (interior), mixed media on canvas, 170 x 113 cm., 2007

Tutti i ricordi, pen on paper, 2007.

For a lot of months I've not been able to put some images on. I apologize.

raylight prediction no. 2
mixed media on canvas, 100 x 100 cm., 2006

untitled
pen on paper, 24 x 35 cm ca, 2006

Sunset of all
mixed media on canvas, 50 x 70 cm., 2006

chicken deluxe
2000, pen on paper.

Refrigerator
2006, pen on paper.

night goat
negative of a drawing. 2006

Air sketches, from 'RF-104G series'
2006. mixed media on paper.

Italian starship
2003, mixed media on canvas
(destroyed)

Leopardi sq., Pergola
(detail)

Leopardi sq., Pergola
pen on canvas, 120 x 80 cm., 2004

the enemy
2005, acrylic and tar on canvas, 200 x 100 cm.

sketch and slices
2005, pen and crayon on paper

from rf-104g series
2005 pen and crayons on paper (sold)

little tale of my belly
2005, crayon on paper (sold)

what the thunder said
2004, ink and pastel on paper (sold)

Homage to Antonio Saura
2005, acrylic on canvas

female expressions
2005. pen and pastels on paper (sold)

Work in progress... (or regress?)

I decided to start a new plane series.. a big series, 2 mt x 1 mt... I really don't know how to do with this one... it would be a good one... or a failure. Maybe the meaning is this... a balance between expression and failure.... doh. Exams can wait.... ;) but Im on a plane... i can't complain ....

samba 104
2005, pen and pastels on paper, 25 x 35 cm. ca (sold)

unknown painting
2004, acrylic on canvas, 40 x 80 cm.

take the money and run
2002, pen on paper

aging landing
2003, winpaint

toward a new nazism
win paint, 2005

this one is dedicated to Bill Gates and his new 'Palladium Tecnology'. If u don't know what it exactly is... then you'll do it in a hurry, in the next 5-6 months.
My god, what a jerk.

Red shapes
windrawing, 2003

without a rilevant title
winpaint, 2002

portrait of an artist as a young derelict (JMB quotation)
ink on plastic, 12 x 12 cm., 2002

brighten the corners, ink and pen on paper, 43 x 40 cm., 2004

telekurt
drawings scannered, 45 x 30 cm. ca, 2002

left: new exodus, pen on spanish paper
right: down in a hole, pen and ink on spanish paper

87 x 57 cm each, 2005

7646
windrawing, 2003

drawning forest
mixed media on paper, 2002

natural romanticism
windrawing, 2001

Open the fire
windrawing, 2001

lullabye, windrawing, 2001

crucifixion radiography, negative of a drawing photo, 2004

the battle of red and black, ink and pen on papers, 2002

the storyteller
pen on plastic, 12 x 12 cm., 2001

Fantastic aerial recognition
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 80 cm, 2004

Piazza Fontana, 12nd december 1969, 13 dead
rielaborated scannered drawings on paper, 2001

(image enlarging recommended)

time triptych, 123 x 80 cm. each, 2004

Time is expressed, in painting, by scansions of painted space and blank spaces. Imagination rebuilts and recompletes a new figure; disappearing beneath the three canvases, this new imagine creates a visive illusion standing for the flow of time passing by.

awaken electric sheep
negative of a drawing photograph, 22 x 34 cm., 2005

The ballad of the ancient Kaposi, windrawing, 2005

raylight prediction, pen on spanish paper, 53 x 87 cm, 2004

motherfuckerboard, winpaint, 2005.

PS: 'winpaint' means 'digitally draw' on Pc

a brief journey, pen and water on plastic, 12 x 40 cm., 2003

H-bomb party, mexed media on canvas, 140 x 120 cm., 2004 (sold)
I'm so sorry for the shitty foto... that's the unique I have of this work!

it's the time, ink and water on paper, 22 x 35 cm., 2005

non-sense topography (no 2)
ink and alcool-pastel on paper, 20 x 30 cm., 2005

non-sense topography
pen and alcool-pastel on paper, 20 x 30 cm., 2005

General Electric J79 aka The Colosseum
ink and pastel on paper, 23 x 35 cm., 2005

The colosseum vertically is similar to a jet propulsor
the lie of the marble contains always a danger.

Red/black polarity
acrylic oil and tar on canvases, 160 x 60 cm., 2004

the door, winpaint, 2001

Disco-inferno, ink on paper, 22 x 37 cm., 2005

viaggio in canoa, ink on paper, 20 x 30 cm., 2005

free ignorance in free slavery
mixed media on paper, 22 x 35 cm., 2005

now I know you! (from 'RF-104G series), pen and oil on paper, 37 x 22 cm., 2005

Narcissus (from 'RF-104G series'), ink on paper, 20 x 35 cm., 2005

promenade (from 'RF-104G series'), ink on paper, 20 x 35 cm., 2005

human blob (after haring), windrawing, 2002

3projections, windrawing, 2001

who wins, who loses, acrylic on canvas, 50 x 70 cm., 2002

one of theese days, mixed media on plastic, 12 x 12 cm., 2001

Costant the mirror, 120 x 80 cm., 2003

that's what I call 'negative painting' (referred to the previous one, the 'positive')

Supertotem, mixed media, collage of pictures, 2003

New drawings (in search of JMB), ink on paper, 2005

Distruction for use, windrawing, 2000

harddrawing, winpaint, 2005

Capacity-proof, mixed media on plastic, 12 x 12 cm., 2002

The truth

On April and November 2004 american army used white phosfor on Fallujah.

Almost 50.000 dead.

(planned 38.000 buildings to be re-constructed because they were fully destroyed)

Half of Saddam's dictatorship victims counted in ten days of bombing on the city.

I'M ASHAMED TO BE AN HUMAN BEING
and POLITICALLY ALLIED TO THIS ARMY

BUSH IS THE GREAT CRIMINAL OF THIS DECADE

Sketch no. 5 (Fallujah's fever), pen on paper, 20 x 30 cm., 2005

New world, mixed media on canvas, 80 x 90 cm., 2003

attilio regolo (questioni spinose)
mixed media on paper, 12 x 12 cm., 2001

scratchy and itchy
pastels and pen on paper, 12 x 12 cm., 2001

Born annoying
pen and oil on canvas, 40 x 40 cm., 2003

Was it so difficult?
Damned computer... here I come

Im so happy this fucking site is open again.

Low-ways
pen on paper, 18 x 27 cm, 2005

A sky above, acrylic and tar on canvas, 50 x 25 cm., 2004

The crown, oil on canvas, 80 x 90 cm., 2004.

Keep an eye on the white on background. It's more important even than the depicted part of this painting.

Hockney's dive-in-pool has a new fragrance

The broken universe (big wheel), acrylic on canvas, 120 x 100 cm., 2002.

Let's find the idiot inside of us!

A perfect idiot, acrylic on plastic, 12 x 12 cm., 2002

Curzio Malaparte stated that there's a dead child inside of us, paraphrasing Giovanni Pascoli's poetry of 'child'; a child sleeping in every human being.
Nowadays... I can ufficially say that that dead child was not dead. He was sleeping, in a pharmalogical coma. He has some cerebral problems, but he's able to articulate some language, and claiming some very trendy sentences.

'The society keeps evolving and evolving in the best way it can; tecnology has the power and the will to erase starvation and stupidity from all over the world'

'the truth lies in the imagine. Nothing else.'

'the western society is a benediction for all mankind. It's working in a way that other civilitations and culture could hardly imagine. But they will thanks us for all this enourmous effort'

'history now: it is supermarket'.

Maybe the only truth he said.

Samotracia mon amour

Samotracia, pen and oil on canvas, 100 x 100 cm, 2003

It seems to be a sea, on the right. Don't know if it's the sky. The town that sees itself on the waterline. Or a stone of inconclusion into the air, a white spine.
I want to turn to the greek culture back. Everybody should.

Another work in the wall

the wall in my house that guests samotracia, (left); sketch no 4 (de kooning said), (centre); the bird (right).

'1989' rear view

I'm hungry of space, of canvas. They're too expensive.

left: not a good morning, Jes
right: self-portrait with cracks
pen on paper, 2003

Untitled painting. Searching for a title

untitled, oil and acrylic on canvas, 200 x 100 cm

Behind my couch, now it stands, an odd presence.

sketch, pen on paper, 20 x 30 cm ca, 2004

I think that pen is a great friend. It gives you the idea (an illusion) of control over the work.
Also the illusion are fundamental for this things.

PS: What does this image represent?
Answer: Boh.

Is it possible making art with computer?

Stratification (Enlightment), drawing modeled on winpaint, 2002

Computer is a tool. And a fool, in a stupid sense.
It won Garry Kasparov, famous chess player. Gasparov won just one match, creating a scheme that Deep Blue hadn't in its archive. 200 milion processes per second, but without that process related to that move. Computer is an intellectual form only for those who think that the mass is quality. And so for A.I. The monstrous capacity of calcule has to be reducted to a simple form: 1 + 1 = something. This is not intellect. It's just a new version of abaco (don't know the exact english word).

I used my computer for this image. It helped me to reduplicate, lightly, a form yet depicted on a scannerized sheet of paper. Is this art? Or more a product of computing?

Computer surely helped me to construct this image above. It would never have been the same without its action.

But, for sure, - and this is not obvious - this would never have existed if I wouldn't think of it.

The unbearable lightness of the work

Work in progress, 72 pieces 12 x 12 cm each, 2001 (detail)

I started with these. CD copying covers are always boring. So I decided to put some colors in, some impressions not eventually linked with the music content. I liked to say "well, It's just all prepared; they seem to be pieces on their own". Now theese drawings are in 'visual zibaldone'.

They're almost 200 drawings.

Eh.... the time goes by....

Oh, the french resolution!

The french revolution, pen on paper, 2001.

Both America and Europe were involved in the storm of french revolution. The importance of the change that assume on its back the tremendous weight of violence.
If it's the dose that makes the poison, now we can say that all was worthy enough for having a robespierre.

This picture cuts in a half the issue: claiming the negative part of the history: the violence, the arbitrary of certain moments. It's argomentably. But in an artistic process we can afford to make some strange distinctions.

Sleeping impressions

A sky of paper, windows paint, 2001.

After Giotto, after Mantegna: a private question

The weeping woman, drawing on winpaint, 2001.

Re-assume the Madonna issue; the complaint on dead Christ
On cinemascope, with different cameras, different eyes
of the mind and prudence;
people involved not so much, crossing at the wood
but a question
of a son and a mother.


Maybe the work I'm most related with. A reality set by two different points of view, with different focal tensions. Upper, so drammatic in an impossible dialogue between motherly grief and a distorted ilarity of a son lost for ever. Lower, the quite occasional presence of not so reliavable characters - except a couple distinguished in their trenchcoats; getting away with pity fronting a scene, the crucifixion, felt only in the faces of the standings; direct spectators, as we would say with a little sparkle of latin, "in absentia".. Ambivalence played in the paraphrasis of the new, but aware of the ancient. So we have reality, the landscape, a cinematographic eye: but also the predella*.

*predella: italian. In artistic terminology it's the lower part of medioeval and renaissance altar pales, in which biblic scenes or latter tradition are been often portrayed as such a comment for the main upper scene of the piece. The same relationship between large screen image of the speaking journalist and the strip of 'last hour news' at the feet of CNNnews.

Michele Omiccioli, 24 settembre 2005

Look back in holland

when the light fade out, oil and acrylic on canvas, 120 x 100 cm ca, 2004

I usually watch around when I recollect my ideas on a work. This time I dreamed about Holland, the land of XVII masters, Rembrandt above all. As Italian I could have look at Caravaggio, and maybe it is so, with all this black that pervades the imagine. But Rembrandt, his figures standing half in the shadow, half under a pale light of the moon had a very deep impact, above all others influences.

Today I spoke , via email, with a gracious girl, Gaynor Evelyn Sweeney. She kindly invited me to keep relations with other artist in Liverpool, where she lives and works. In her website I could see her in action. I saw her in Berlin, in a black and white photograph, playing a game of every childhood (dont know how it's called in english, sorry man, Im italian...) under the suspicious eye of Athena, threathening in its marble.

Speaking with the words of my blog, this is fucking resistance. No doubt.

The virtual painting no. 2: carnival

One of my lightest pieces I've ever made.

By the way: The Duncan Phillips Collection in Italy!

A lungimirant man who owned a great Renoir, the petit dejeneur ou rivage.

The virtual paintings no.1: Archeofuneral

Archeofuneral, computer elaboration on Windows paint, 2000

Ain't so easy to do it. Believe.

Paysage

Paysage, ink on paper, 85 x 57 cm, 2005.

It's the first of five.

Three pieces, three stories

Ode to Sebastian Matta, oil and tar on canvas, 2004














Little big carousel, oil on canvas, 2002

the dark side of the guggh

Kaleidoscope

Kaleidoscope, oil on paper, 12 x 12 cm, 2001


This black sheet of pixels means nothing.
None is listening on the other side.

This blog is becoming just a monologue
that I dont accept

I'll keep on displaying images, drawings, sketches, paintings
all about my life and this will continue to be my happiness here

But no sign of life outside

(Just planned before, no surprising - )

The stream of thought

Man/thought, ink and pen on paper, 12 x 12 cm, 2001

A man thinking is always a mystery.
Thinking. Or thinging?
Not only regarding the things he's thinking about.
Just for the doubt that he's hiding from something, or someone.

Thinking is a form of disguise

Sketches from my sweetheart the drug

What is this?
A canyon covered with mud of wolf?

A talisman of the earth?

An army of grasshoppers that take the ground at its orders?


Sketch 2003, pen on paper, 50 x 30 cm ca, 2003

Hommage to Seb Matta

Eh..., yap, you lucky people who welcomed Sebastian Matta during those fabolous years of Abstract Expressionism...! An unforgettable sign of mystery and pure talent in New York, from Chile.
America and Italy saw him as a child to protect; in the former years the first; in the latest the least. Tuscany was his elected homeland in his last lifetime. I was honoured of it, though I'm from Marche, and not from Tuscany!!

A poet of material. A talent bigger than Picasso.
Picasso reconstructed a mathematical world. Like Cartesius did, somehow.
Matta was beyond.
Matta created the Atomic age painting.

Col(d)osseum

Colosseum, 120 x 80 cm, oil on canvas, 2004.

A strange vision of one of my favourite monuments in Italy.
There's not only sun and pizzas

The Newborn

finished it yesterday.

Which influences? I thought.
Black lines = Old dear Franz Kline
Naturalisticly-uncorrect background = Sebastian Matta? Perhaps.
Sense of undetermined mystery = Gino De Dominicis?

Damn, who the hell is aware of the existance of Gino De Dominicis?

Well, ex-existance.

Old kids on the Block. 1989

1989. Oil and acrylic on wood. 165 x 63 cm, 2003.


This works reminds me a lot of Basquiat's.
I was litterarly overwhelmed by his attitude (now I'm illuminated most by his life rather than his artistic skills). In my PC archive I matched this picture of mine with Profit I, one of the most important works of 1982 by Jean-Michel. A desperate human profile seems to desappear in a black tar screen, followed by numbers and uncanny symbologies. Profit first. Profit is first of all.

Why 1989?
In 1989 in Berlin the mythical wall fell apart. The end of the soviet block, the comunism.
On the left: a parallel grid stands for the Before: the planned economy, the planned lives.
On the right: the Freedom. But the uncertainty of the new future, too.

Territorial pissings: It's time to change

The broken landscape
28 x 28 cm, mixed media on paper, 2003


I grew in a town of 60,000 inhab. called Fano, near Urbin, the great city of Renaissance. Urbin has 7,000 inhab, though everybody allover the world would speak of it (i'd prefer speak "of her" but that's just another issue) as a city.

Fano haven't the perfection of the historical utopia that made Urbin rise from the undistinguished reticulate of small villages in Marche, the region which I live in. That's just why this picture is called Broken Landscape. Also the utopia of Urbin became a lie. Everyday I feel my landscape turn in a torn sheet.

Michele

Red meat, Red medicine (worse than disease)

When the colour

When the colour
Was made
Hammer
And sickle
Facies
On metal
Was recovered
Into history astantory

Little foolish shadow
Got rid in a meadow
Sedating the rivers
Of impatience
burying
Into ourselves
Disappearing beyond the leaves;

The hours of the rain
Have been fallen down;
Redder
It grows during the day
Without any cease.

Michele Omiccioli (translation of “quando il colore”, 2005, Florence)

a little poem for everybody out there ... (and sorry for my weird bad english!)

A dwelling man
Crafts his own shadow, polimorph
In a blank geometrical grid
White black narrow
Pearled with pain
It sticks life amidst the middle
Of a naked spidernet …


Michele. (From “Zibaldone Visivo Series”)

The ways out of the town (Le vie di uscita dal paese)

Get away from the town. The town chokes,
it disappears some time; it dies
into spyras of cyclistical tournaments in summer;
a soulphureal plumb that kisses the red-scraped roofs.
Get away!
But how to suffer?
it's the warmth of a place that I never knew of.

Michele Omiccioli.

(In italian, freely translated;)
Occorre uscire dal paese. Il paesino soffoca, altre volte

si atrofizza, muore
nelle spire dei tornanti percorsi dai ciclisti,
una cappa sulfurea che bacia i tetti scagliati di rosso
dove andare? quanto soffrire?
è il calore del paese che più non ritrovo.

I COLORI DEL DISSENSO. Salute a tutti!

Hello nobody! ... ehm ... goodevening and welcome in this blog.

Presentation always get ill. However. I wanna say to you first: I'm italian, and I really have a bad english. You'll see!!! ;)

I love american art colture, in special way for XX century art.

FRANZ KLINE --- JEAN-MICHEL-BASQUIAT -- BOB RAUSCHENBERG - ADOLPH GOTTLIEB -- PHILIP GUSTON --- WILL DE KOONING --- ARSHILE GORKY --- etc etc....

This is my life. And my hommage for your art, that make italian art of Fifties freed from ancient and OLDities of my country.


I hope I will meet you all, almost via mail.


Enjoy!!!