His works, his design objectshis housing projects They have on them a skin matured by time that seems to have moulded them independently. A layering that can be perceived and that makes them unique, difficult to replicate. Each work is born from a solicitation, from sensory attraction, played out through the use of colour, light, naked, material, direct, natural, recovered materials.
A Milanese for six generations, born and raised in the city of design, how do you experience Milan and the world of design?
I don't remember exactly how many generations we have been 'Milanese', maybe even more than six. My great-grandparents were launderers from the Naviglio. My family inherited the laundry building, a former mill, and that's where we still live, in what was the Milan of the fountains and rice fields, later joined by the 'city'. A location far removed and very different from what is commonly considered the Milan of Design today, with its Design Week 'zones'. From a very young age, I had the opportunity to use a family workshop where I experimented with the use of tools and materials, making objects for my games. This playful aspect has never abandoned me and often forms the basis for my projects. The studio where I work today, or rather my workshop, along the Naviglio Grande is part of an artisan area, a former glassworks from the early post-war period. A sought-after place, a large space that has been redesigned and reconverted from a functional and energy point of view. By harnessing solar energy, I can completely satisfy my energy needs.
Your relationship with time is also not typically 'Milanese', is it?
My works often require a methodical and repetitive application made up of repeated gestures and take on the metaphorical image of containers, of repositories in which I place a part of myself and my time. I adapt to the rhythm, to the right flow that the work requires, speed or even haste is not contemplated.
You call your works 'abstract landscapes', are they somehow always homages to your love of nature?
Yes, I transfer my love for nature and non-man-made natural environments into my work by drawing inspiration from observation combined with memories of images. This is often how my wall sculptures or settings are created. In addition, my thinking always aims to give new life to discarded materials, old pieces of wood, sheet metal, pieces of lamps, paper, remnants or leftovers that I sometimes find by chance.
You have designed homes and interiors for very wealthy clients, is it a real advantage to have a large budget?
It is a double-edged sword, which often puts me to the test. You have to be able to cope with the client's demands, which are obviously high, as is often the value of the property. Someone who entrusts you with a big budget knows what he wants and expects the necessary in-depth knowledge of his tastes and expectations and is not easily satisfied. I can afford to be daring, even provocative at times, while being careful not to take big risks. The customer expects from me proposals for furniture made in my workshop just for him, he offers me the opportunity to create in order to achieve a common goal together. Certainly one must give one's all and never save on oneself.
Bodywork console made from salvaged car body parts
and welded with electric tacker, self-supporting structure without
skeleton, original car colours, built entirely by hand.
