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"The God's tears" collective work by Ariela Böhm Elvis Spadoni e Sukun Ensemble
curator Francesco Maria Acquabona

during Arte Fiera and Art City Bologna 2017
Holocaust Remembrance Day 2017

Museo Ebraico di Bologna

Opening Saturday January 28th 9.00 pm

Opening hours during ART CITY Bologna 2017: Friday January 27th 10.00 am > 4.00 pm | Saturday January 28th 6.00 pm > 0.00 | Sunday January 29th 10.00am > 6.00 pm | installation will be visitable until February 26th 2017

Via Valdonica 1/5 Bologna

tel. +39 051 29 11 280 fax +39 051 23 54 30 e-mail

Project "The God's tears"




"Let the earth put forth grass, herbs yielding seed, and fruit-trees bearing fruit after their kind" Genesis 1,11

2014, length min. 5:07.

Video do not contains any digital creation.


Premio Mnemosine 2014
"Il Tempo Ritrovato"

Sintesi poetica, perfetta tra tecnologia ed arte.
Senso profondo di orgogliosa appartenenza alla propria cultura, alla propria storia.
Il video" Terzo giorno" è espressione di grande sensibilità artistica, un'opera di raggiunta e completa maturità, sincronia di immagini e suoni. Il vento sottolinea il senso di solitudine del deserto. Le gocce d'acqua con ritmo lento scandiscono il tempo ed infine la musica in crescendo riscopre il miracolo della natura, dirompente solenne, maestosa nella sua stessa rinascita e nel farsi arte.

Daniela Vaccher



"RACHAMIM - Mothers' tears create compassion in the world "

2013, length min. 4:00.

Video do not contains any digital creation, only water




2010, sculptural video, not digital, length min. 4:53.



"Kabbalah, between chaos and meaning"

2010, sculptural/digital video, length min 5:15.



Why choose water as the subject for an exhibition?

About water, its structure, its states, its meaning, its irreplaceable role in making life possible, its distribution around the world, in our cells, its life-cycle, its lack, its role in territorial conflicts, and even its memory, more has been said written painted photographed and moulded than possibly any other subject.

It may well be that this exhibition isn’t so much the result of a project, rather it stems from the fascination this element has always born on me along my whole life.
Most likely the hours I spent staring at the never-ending motion of waves, ever different, ever consistent, or the ones spent floating in tepid waters swarming with life, or spent appeasing my thirst sipping litres of fresh water, or observing from high up above a river meandering across lands, the journey of a drop of rain, or ecstatic at the shape of a snowflake, most likely it was such experiences that inspired me these works.

Moreover water, brimming with livelihood, can take on infinite shapes and, with its motion, its solvent features, as a medium for dilution and suspension, changing size with temperature, it can modify its surroundings, mould and define coasts, shores, stones and caves, dig canyons, build stalactites and stalagmites, wear goods away and allow the creatures that inhabit it to forge new landscapes and destroy old ones.

The challenge I never gave up on is not so much the presumption to paint or forge something new, rather the research of the right material and technique, the ones best suited to represent the most mobile of all elements, the most vital, impossible to fix and trap into a still lasting work, this has been the unreachable goal, the contradiction in terms, because only water is like water… this is what prompted me to create the works you’ll find here, this is what I’ve achieved so far.

I don’t know when exactly my passion for water began, it is likely to have begun with me, and it has been with me for all my life.
I remember when I was a teenager, I would get carried away by the evolution theory, the one that infers a semi-aquatic life for the human species ancestors. Such a theory, I thought, not only explained many of our physical and behavioural features, it also provided the fascinating description of a life intimately joined with water, and it was to me not only desirable, but also very likely.

Each and every one of us is familiar with the pleasure we experience when immersed in a hot bath because, without bothering to bring in psychoanalysis or symbolism, we all know this is the environment of the beginning for every human being, it is the “where and how” we spent our first months of existence, it is the long-lasting hug that readied us for life.

If I am able to stir, in those watching these works, a minimal fraction of the pleasure, wonder, curiosity that water has been and is still raising in me, this project will have reached its reason-to-be.


Light coming from Shadows

The technique called “Shadows of light” was set up in cooperation with the artist-photographer Rino Regoli, and it allowed me to delve into a subject that is very dear to me: thought. I painted invisible growing neuronal structures such that the observer can only perceive their shape and presence through their effect: their shadow. The transparent material laid on the glass behaves like a lens and, by concentrating light beams going through it, it projects, on the white background, a bright image that is precisely its shadow. Such a paradoxical experience of watching not a structure, rather the results of its presence, seems to me to be bound to hinting at human thought, mysterious subject whose effects make up most of our world. Both the learning process of new notions and the emotional/sensorial experiences produce new neuronal connections within our brain.
Thinking, therefore, is building connections, or new structures, unknown-of new shapes.
In this work, the neuronal networks develop on a branched underlying layer representing the non-neuronal cells of the nervous system (the glia). Please note that such layer reminds of Rohrsach’s stains, a tool used to investigate the unconscious, so that, as is often the case with my work, the studying method becomes itself a visual metaphor of the subject under investigation. The Rohrsach’s stains take here the role of representing the unconscious, non- acted thought, something little decipherable, primeval, dim (indistinct) but structural: the “way we are” superimposed upon the “what we are thinking or experimenting” as described by the neuronal layer.
My intention is to represent, through this visual allusion, the unavoidable simultaneous presence, in our thinking processes, of one graphically “directional” component, that is, one that has a precise and finalised direction, and one component that has to do with our unconscious thinking, inevitable weft of our interior architecture.



For many years, my work has been orbiting around writing, and my desire is to pay homage to it.
Writing, or more precisely, the signs that comprise it, are the matter of culture and begin with history itself.
"All'alba della scrittura"("At the Dawn of Writing") is an homage to the invention that ferried us from prehistory to history; in particular, to the invention of the alphabet that, approximately 3,600 years ago, produced the symbol par excellence, a sound that is formed, a form that shapes thought, the thought free from its thinker.
The pages from the dawn of writing are the bricks with which I constructed my "Tower of Babel."
Although the aforementioned was conceived before September 11th, today it can be considered as an allusion provoked by the attack on New York.
In "Là dove scorre il pensiero" ("There Where Thought Flows") as well, the archaic inscriptions return to symbolize human thought.
This time, the pages are entangled in a "spiderweb" of metal cables that represent a neuronal structure.
My passion for paradox, for upheaval, for extreme elasticity, allows the elements that host thought (the neurons) to become the canvas on which thought is entangled, leaving the task of deciphering a few of the fragments to logic, method and intuition.
The physical context in which thought is conceived, or rather, it's container, becomes in turn a support structure, a skeleton, contained in a work that pays homage to scientific research.
If, on the one hand, in my research, writing is lifted up as an icon of language, on the other, the meaning of the written text becomes a metaphor of the culture that expressed it and of the context to which the work itself refers.
In "Che la memoria di ciò che è stato si fonda con la materia che ospita il nostro pensiero" ("That the Memory of That Which Was Fuses With the Matter That Hosts Our Thought"), a work on the Shoah that uses the queue as a horrifying method of extermination and annihilation of human nature, the biblical text in Hebrew forms the texture of human figures, their body, their identity.
The more recent works, including "Riflessioni sulla convivenza" ("Reflections on Co-Habitation") or "Nei sistemi complessi la reversibilità è un lusso" ("In Complex Systems, Reversibility is a Luxury"), focused on love relationships, carry words of love imprinted onto their surface, which come from the "Cantico dei Cantici" ("Song of Songs") or a poem by Paul Eluard.
It is not simple to identify whether the idea or the image first appears in the genesis of my work.
A vision initially emerges on the threshold of my conscience, a general and somewhat confused image.
I attribute a first interpretation to this image, placing it in relation to emotions, ideas and words that accompany or are evoked by it. It is precisely this work of deciphering the meaning that produces, flowingly, a precise and coherent formal definition that leads to the creation of the work.
The works "Riflessioni sulla convivenza" ("Reflections on Co-Habitation") arise from an intricate, embracing image: the vines of ivy represent cohabitation.
It can be seen and experienced as a cage or as a structure on which to construct. The empty spaces, precious elements in any relationship, are just as essential as the filled ones, allow for the permeability of the whole and thus authorize the belonging to the living world.
Among the threats that over time have created a solid canvas, at times barely elastic and even suffocating, the "words" of love must find a way to emerge.
That which brings us to the light along an ever-so-slow path, of almost vegetal growth, is the deliberation with which, during the passing of time, the spent words are substituted with other, newly formed ones, intact and precious.
Which direction will the subsequent visions take? An image of levity, relative to the thought phenomenon, emerges from the cultural medium of imagination that had deep roots in my interior edifice because, as the poetess Anne Michaels writes:

If cut open, memory would resemble
A cross-section of the earth's core, a table of geographical time.
Faces press
the transparent membrane
Between conscious and genetic

From "Lake of Two Rivers," Quello che la luce insegna, Anne Michaels, Ed. Giunti.


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