Nicoletta Santini

“Metamorphosis of pictures and colors”

Biography:

Writer and teacher of art has made her artistic studies at the Academy BBA.
During her activities has obtained prestigious prizes and distinguished awards.
She has set up personal exhibitions in Italy and abroad and her works are at the artistic Museum of the region Emilia- romagnaterritorio in Riccione.
Fond of visual poetry cooperated in the cultural page of some magazines.
She has coordinated painting competitions and has published with the Prospettiva Editrice, in the same collection ,also the novel by the title "The Adventures of Gatta Panino 2002- All the illustrations are of the author

Critical Comment: The first impression which transmits the poetic of Nicoletta Santini is pictorially enclosed inside every single word like an distiller, an alembic wisely able to "evaporate' thoughts and emotions, pouring drop by drop terms, voices and lemmas intended to condense their vapours, depositing a lasting and profound sign, delivering to the sensitivity interior a casket full of simple but elegant sophistication, of refined, thin purity. A journey inside the human soul which takes place between colours, perfumes, noises, the roars of the sea with its depth and the myth that leads through the veiled rooms of imagination, along the road of irrational, of instinctive, of illogic full of emotion and passion. So the time of life scrolls in the hands of Tersicore, flows "on the flight of golden sparks", dances and whirls in the dimension of the dream of which Nicoletta reminds us in an effectively and persuasive way all its meaning more genuine, her frank sense, her more intimate value: next to the conscience that thinks what dreams and yearns. And, in "a very common day " the challenge becomes to preserve the time that opens itself to the size of eternity, of infinite, of incommensurable, "to keep" the moment, retain it, perceive it between light fingers as a drop that "vaporizes far away". ( Comment by Cristina Raddavero) Dictamundi.net has already mentioned Nicoletta Santini commenting on the "window of the 'old sheep shop" her novel " The Mummiona" published by Prospettiva Editrice and illustrated by the author with vibrant and fantastic descriptive narration. Now the literary/artistic profile of Santini is growing with the presentation of this refined poetic compilation where she reassembles with synergistic and composite creative force a mixture of plasticity and poetry that is fed by metamorphosis of images and colors. In a creative process that recalls the techniques with levels of photocomposition, rather than the successive veiling of acrylic draft on canvas, the Santini develops her poetic thought freeing metaphors and suggestive mythological references that recall the bright Mediterranean preciousness survived in the ruins of classicism so dear to Salvatore Quasimodo of “Acque e terre” (waters and lands). In this thematic context, instead of the unreal suggestions of Marc Chagall, I can see the poetry and the colors of Giorgio de Chirico that run between the secular remains fixed in the sun and the loud gallop of horses on the seashore. Then, the vocabulary becomes research and meditation, follows the lines, strengthens it with metaphoric references set in the history of the memory as if they tried to cancel the flow of time to be freed into an artistic and surprising literary staging. (Comment by Pier Luigi Coda)
The Poems: NEL MIO ATELIER In un anno qualunque in un giorno qualunque in un ora qualunque traghetto emozioni in dissolvenze alterne dove l’onirico spande ed invento calici d’ombre e d’oro per bocche di canefore vocianti nel confine dove fiori d’aria crescono. In un secondo qualunque Per varcare con orme ballerine il tempo dei violini di Chagall. In my atelier A year any/ any one day/ an hour any/ I convey emotions in dissolving alternate/ where unreal pours/ and I invent and glasses of shadow and gold /for mouths of canephors shouting/ in the border where flowers of air grow/ In a second any/ to cross with footsteps ballerinas/ the time of violins of Chagall... DIPINTI RESPIRI DI NULLA Abbozzo crisalide nascente distilla levità sulla tela sbiancata ove il desiderio vaga incorniciato da polvere temporale. Eteree, svelate in serico connubio ora sparlano le trame con tinto marmoreo di gote bambine e limpidi passi di creatura muovono incontro in vetrata staticità. Parlano pispigliando in muti battiti d’essenza imprigionata in denso segreto adolescente di principessa solitaria assisa sul trono di una rupe. Passi e dipinti respiri di nulla ancora muovono ripetendosi all’infinito ma è solo il rinfrangere del momento appena nato Sospeso su flabelli di color Paintings sighs of nothing. Sketch of nascent chrysalis/ distils lightness on the canvas bleached/ where the desire wanders/ framed by temporal dust./ Ethereal, unveil in silken alliange/ now the plots speak ill/ with dyed marble cheeks of girls/ and limpid steps of creature/ move towards/ in stained static glass./ Speak whispering in silent beats/ of essence imprisoned/ in dense young secret/ of Princess solitary/ seated on the throne of a cliff./ Steps and paintings sighs of nothing/ still move repeated endlessly/ but it’s only the refracted/ of the moment just born PEGASO…ATTIMO BREVE Di verde bagliore è lo sguardo in grave e profonda bellezza dell’onirico destriero dal ventaglio dei colori apparso. Froge frementi zoccolati tuoni d’arcano giostra palpiti muti d’attesa in dispiegate ali elevate a pura trasparenza librate in selenico vertiginoso Pegaso…attimo breve nel volo d’indorate faville svapora l’incanto in apoteosi di magico turbine per tornare al suo Olimpo. Pegaso… short moment. Of green glare is the look/ serious and deep beauty/ of the unreal horse/from the range of colors appeared./ Trembling nostril/ Hoofed thunder of mistery/ Tournament throbs dumb waiting/ in deployed wings/ high to pure transparency/ librate in selenic dizzy/ Pegaso… short moment/ in the flight of golden sparks/ evaporate the incantation/ in apotheosis of magical turbines to return to its Olimpo. BALLERINA SULLA SPIAGGIA Dipingo una roccia e di flutti il mare una sola goccia che svapora lontano Ricolmo di tempo antico un cerchio tracciato alitandovi Tersicore dal cuore musicante che ricalca in divino volteggio le danzanti orme dei propri passi su quella goccia. Ballerina on the beach. I paint a rock and waves of the sea/ a single drop that fades away/ I fill with ancient time/ a circle track breathing Tersicore with the musicant heart/ who follows in divine vault/ the dancing footsteps of their steps/ on that drop. GABBIANO DAGLI OCCHI VIOLA Parla Gabbiano dagli occhi insonni viola del sottofondo cobalto il suo covo. Gemmato di libertà si libra in echi e pioggia trinata tra fumi di nubi merlettati. Racconta dell’aria marina al risveglio quando tutto persino il silenzio riposa. Del circumnavigare il mondo con gli occhi viola. battuti dalla rosa dei venti. Seagull with violet eyes. Speak Gabbiano with purple sleepless eyes/ with the cobalt background/ its den. Jewelled of freedom/ it hovers in echoes and lace rain/ between smokes of trimmed clouds. It tells about mariner air on awakening/ when all/ even the silence rests. To sail around the world/ with purple eyes./ fought by compass card. BALENA Incanto di flutti e conchiglie arenati nei sogni di Nettuno trionfale covo. Dal palmo d’alti fondali emerge Balena in sibilo fiorito d’alghe e di marosi schiocca la coda capricciosa in schiuma salmastra che vita trattiene musicando arcana un reale coro d’azzurre faville. Fra vispe lampare di stelle si immerge Balena sotto il pelo dell’acqua per fare d’argento la scia. Whale. Charm of waves and shells/ stranded in the dreams of Nettuno/ triumphal den. From the palm of high seabed/ emerge Whale/into a flowered hiss of seaweed and breaker/ it swell up the capricious tail/ in brackish foam that life holds/ Playing secret/ a real choir of blues sparks. /Between sprightly lamps of stars/ whale dives below the surface water/ to make silver the track. UN GUIZZO DI NIENTE L’altrove statica dimensione smuove all’improvviso un sussulto di foglie un guizzo di niente intrappolato nel pallore scivolato in goccia. …Un pispigliare fra le ombrate primule chiacchierone in reminiscenza di ieri sotto la voce cigolante di vecchie cancellate …ore smussate da polline alato e tra vasi sull’altana di terra e coccio gridano di vittoria le antere ballando con se stesse. A dart of nothing. Elsewhere static dimension/ moves suddenly a new burst of leaves/ a dart of nothing/ trapped/ in the paleness slipped in drop./ …a whispering between the shadow of prattling primroses /in reminiscence of yesterday/ under the creaking voice of old railing/ … now beveled by pollen winged/ and between vessels on the windowsill, by earth and clay/ proclaim victory the anthers dancing with themselves. L’ANGOLO OSCURO Canefore statue velate arrivano pispigliando bocche vocianti e spigoli di cielo libra ombre sui muri. l’angolo oscuro in cui la meteora scantonava decisa a disfarsi del suo groviglio di luci. …è buio The dark corner. Canephors statues veiled arrive whispering/ mouths shouting and edges of the sky/ hovers shadows on the walls./ Dark corner where Meteor sneak away decided to clear of its tangle of lights./ … it’s dark LA CASA DI ALLEGRE OMBRE Polvere e del tempo il soffio dalla casa di allegre ombre anfitrione sospeso in eco antico dalla stanza del buon risveglio dilagava celeste il contagio grande madre malata d’angeli quieti. Visioni evocanti memorie rare, preziose nell’inerte spazio che vaga tra la ragnatela delle ruga sulle guance umide e vivo ancora il gesto di annodare la crocchia bianca di stoppa.. The House of cheerful shadows. Powder and of the time the breath/ from the house of cheerful shadows/ anphitryon suspended in echo ancient/ from the room of the good awakening was spreading the heavenly contagion/ great sick mother of quiet angels./ Visions which evoke memories/ rare, valuable in the inert space that vagues between the cobweb of wrinkle/ on the wet cheeks/ and I’m still living the gesture/ to fasten the white knot/ of tow...

Critical Comment:

The first impression which transmits the poetic of Nicoletta Santini is pictorially enclosed inside every single word like an distiller, an alembic wisely able to "evaporate' thoughts and emotions, pouring drop by drop terms, voices and lemmas intended to condense their vapours, depositing a lasting and profound sign, delivering to the sensitivity interior a casket full of simple but elegant sophistication, of refined, thin purity.
A journey inside the human soul which takes place between colours, perfumes, noises, the roars of the sea with its depth and the myth that leads through the veiled rooms of imagination, along the road of irrational, of instinctive, of illogic full of emotion and passion.
So the time of life scrolls in the hands of Tersicore, flows "on the flight of golden sparks", dances and whirls in the dimension of the dream of which Nicoletta reminds us in an effectively and persuasive way all its meaning more genuine, her frank sense, her more intimate value: next to the conscience that thinks what dreams and yearns.
And, in "a very common day " the challenge becomes to preserve the time that opens itself to the size of eternity, of infinite, of incommensurable, "to keep" the moment, retain it, perceive it between light fingers as a drop that "vaporizes far away".
( Comment by Cristina Raddavero)

Dictamundi.net has already mentioned Nicoletta Santini commenting on the "window of the 'old sheep shop" her novel " The Mummiona" published by Prospettiva Editrice and illustrated by the author with vibrant and fantastic descriptive narration.
Now the literary/artistic profile of Santini is growing with the presentation of this refined poetic compilation where she reassembles with synergistic and composite creative force a mixture of plasticity and poetry that is fed by metamorphosis of images and colors.
In a creative process that recalls the techniques with levels of photocomposition, rather than the successive veiling of acrylic draft on canvas, the Santini develops her poetic thought freeing metaphors and suggestive mythological references that recall the bright Mediterranean preciousness survived in the ruins of classicism so dear to Salvatore Quasimodo of “Acque e terre” (waters and lands).
In this thematic context, instead of the unreal suggestions of Marc Chagall, I can see the poetry and the colors of Giorgio de Chirico that run between the secular remains fixed in the sun and the loud gallop of horses on the seashore.
Then, the vocabulary becomes research and meditation, follows the lines, strengthens it with metaphoric references set in the history of the memory as if they tried to cancel the flow of time to be freed into an artistic and surprising literary staging.
(Comment by Pier Luigi Coda)

The Poems:

NEL MIO ATELIER

In un anno qualunque
in un giorno qualunque
in un ora qualunque
traghetto emozioni in dissolvenze alterne
dove l’onirico spande
ed invento calici d’ombre e d’oro
per bocche di canefore vocianti
nel confine dove fiori d’aria crescono.

In un secondo qualunque

Per varcare con orme ballerine
il tempo dei violini di Chagall.

In my atelier
A year any/ any one day/ an hour any/ I convey emotions in dissolving alternate/ where unreal pours/ and I invent and glasses of shadow and gold /for mouths of canephors shouting/ in the border where flowers of air grow/ In a second any/ to cross with footsteps ballerinas/ the time of violins of Chagall...

DIPINTI RESPIRI DI NULLA

Abbozzo crisalide nascente
distilla levità sulla tela sbiancata
ove il desiderio vaga
incorniciato da polvere temporale.

Eteree, svelate
in serico connubio
ora sparlano le trame
con tinto marmoreo di gote bambine
e limpidi passi di creatura
muovono incontro
in vetrata staticità.

Parlano pispigliando in muti battiti
d’essenza imprigionata
in denso segreto adolescente
di principessa solitaria
assisa sul trono di una rupe.

Passi e dipinti respiri di nulla
ancora muovono
ripetendosi all’infinito
ma è solo il rinfrangere
del momento appena nato

Sospeso su flabelli di color

Paintings sighs of nothing.
Sketch of nascent chrysalis/ distils lightness on the canvas bleached/ where the desire wanders/ framed by temporal dust./ Ethereal, unveil in silken alliange/ now the plots speak ill/ with dyed marble cheeks of girls/ and limpid steps of creature/ move towards/ in stained static glass./ Speak whispering in silent beats/ of essence imprisoned/ in dense young secret/ of Princess solitary/ seated on the throne of a cliff./ Steps and paintings sighs of nothing/ still move repeated endlessly/ but it’s only the refracted/ of the moment just born

PEGASO…ATTIMO BREVE

Di verde bagliore è lo sguardo
in grave e profonda bellezza
dell’onirico destriero
dal ventaglio dei colori apparso.

Froge frementi
zoccolati tuoni d’arcano
giostra palpiti muti d’attesa
in dispiegate ali
elevate a pura trasparenza
librate in selenico vertiginoso

Pegaso…attimo breve

nel volo d’indorate faville
svapora l’incanto
in apoteosi di magico turbine

per tornare al suo Olimpo.

Pegaso… short moment.
Of green glare is the look/ serious and deep beauty/ of the unreal horse/from the range of colors appeared./ Trembling nostril/ Hoofed thunder of mistery/ Tournament throbs dumb waiting/ in deployed wings/ high to pure transparency/ librate in selenic dizzy/ Pegaso… short moment/ in the flight of golden sparks/ evaporate the incantation/ in apotheosis of magical turbines to return to its Olimpo.

BALLERINA SULLA SPIAGGIA

Dipingo una roccia e di flutti il mare
una sola goccia
che svapora lontano

Ricolmo di tempo antico
un cerchio tracciato
alitandovi Tersicore dal cuore musicante
che ricalca in divino volteggio
le danzanti orme dei propri passi

su quella goccia.

Ballerina on the beach.
I paint a rock and waves of the sea/ a single drop that fades away/ I fill with ancient time/ a circle track breathing Tersicore with the musicant heart/ who follows in divine vault/ the dancing footsteps of their steps/ on that drop.

GABBIANO DAGLI OCCHI VIOLA

Parla Gabbiano
dagli occhi insonni
viola
del sottofondo cobalto
il suo covo.

Gemmato di libertà
si libra in echi e pioggia trinata
tra fumi di nubi merlettati.

Racconta
dell’aria marina al risveglio
quando tutto
persino il silenzio riposa.
Del circumnavigare il mondo
con gli occhi viola.

battuti dalla rosa dei venti.

Seagull with violet eyes.
Speak Gabbiano with purple sleepless eyes/ with the cobalt background/ its den.
Jewelled of freedom/ it hovers in echoes and lace rain/ between smokes of trimmed clouds. It tells about mariner air on awakening/ when all/ even the silence rests. To sail around the world/ with purple eyes./ fought by compass card.

BALENA

Incanto di flutti e conchiglie
arenati nei sogni di Nettuno
trionfale covo.

Dal palmo d’alti fondali
emerge Balena
in sibilo fiorito d’alghe e di marosi
schiocca la coda capricciosa
in schiuma salmastra che vita trattiene

musicando arcana
un reale coro d’azzurre faville.

Fra vispe lampare di stelle
si immerge Balena sotto il pelo dell’acqua

per fare d’argento la scia.

Whale.
Charm of waves and shells/ stranded in the dreams of Nettuno/ triumphal den. From the palm of high seabed/ emerge Whale/into a flowered hiss of seaweed and breaker/ it swell up the capricious tail/ in brackish foam that life holds/ Playing secret/ a real choir of blues sparks. /Between sprightly lamps of stars/ whale dives below the surface water/ to make silver the track.

UN GUIZZO DI NIENTE

L’altrove statica dimensione
smuove all’improvviso un sussulto di foglie
un guizzo di niente
intrappolato
nel pallore scivolato in goccia.

…Un pispigliare fra le ombrate primule
chiacchierone
in reminiscenza di ieri
sotto la voce cigolante di vecchie cancellate
…ore smussate da polline alato
e tra vasi sull’altana
di terra e coccio
gridano di vittoria le antere
ballando con se stesse.

A dart of nothing.
Elsewhere static dimension/ moves suddenly a new burst of leaves/ a dart of nothing/ trapped/ in the paleness slipped in drop./ …a whispering between the shadow of prattling primroses /in reminiscence of yesterday/ under the creaking voice of old railing/ … now beveled by pollen winged/ and between vessels on the windowsill, by earth and clay/ proclaim victory the anthers dancing with themselves.

L’ANGOLO OSCURO

Canefore
statue velate
arrivano pispigliando
bocche vocianti
e spigoli di cielo libra
ombre sui muri.

l’angolo oscuro

in cui la meteora scantonava
decisa a disfarsi
del suo groviglio di luci.

…è buio

The dark corner.
Canephors statues veiled arrive whispering/ mouths shouting and edges of the sky/ hovers shadows on the walls./ Dark corner where Meteor sneak away decided to clear of its tangle of lights./ … it’s dark

LA CASA DI ALLEGRE OMBRE

Polvere e del tempo il soffio
dalla casa di allegre ombre
anfitrione sospeso in eco antico
dalla stanza del buon risveglio
dilagava celeste il contagio
grande madre malata d’angeli quieti.

Visioni evocanti memorie
rare, preziose
nell’inerte spazio che vaga
tra la ragnatela delle ruga
sulle guance umide
e vivo ancora il gesto
di annodare la crocchia bianca

di stoppa..

The House of cheerful shadows.
Powder and of the time the breath/ from the house of cheerful shadows/ anphitryon suspended in echo ancient/ from the room of the good awakening was spreading the heavenly contagion/ great sick mother of quiet angels./ Visions which evoke memories/ rare, valuable in the inert space that vagues between the cobweb of wrinkle/ on the wet cheeks/ and I’m still living the gesture/ to fasten the white knot/ of tow...