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Gravity is a dual concept. In physics, it is a force of attraction, yet it is weak enough to not change the property of matter. It controls bodies in space, and binds them to the Earth, where it bestows them weight. Gravity is the condition we live in as human beings, regardless of our ethnicity, gender and cultural background; it also relates to our own bodies and the relationship with others. As such it is a common denominator, as physical as symbolic, sometimes both at the same time. In fact, without gravity, our bodies would be overpowered by other forces of nature, which would make drift inevitable and life as we know it impossible. In a way, gravity is also a form of physical resistance among peers and a frontier with alien energies and lives. - curatorial essay by Sara Dolfi Agostini.

​Here, it is the point of departure for an exploration of the body and its meanings, in a society where striving towards the infinite possibilities of humankind leaves a profound gap with actual experience and the uncertain reaction to the many limits and setbacks we face. In this time of polarized disorder and public health emergency, where governments oscillate between dramatic restrictions and strategies designed to shore up capitalism, an exhibition titled Gravity is a call to face the urgency of this moment, condemn the hubris of anthropocentrism that brought us to this point, and peek behind the veil of false idols. Yet upon closer look, Gravity also carries a more intimate, personal take.


 

In fact, it offers a reflection on the frustration of feeling powerless in front of sickness, loss and basic limitations on freedom which suddenly concern everyone with fewer exceptions. The exhibit also scrutinizes the persistent gap between empathy and first-hand experience, which is where humanity sometimes fails to emerge and where every process of healing should begin.

Everybody Breaks consists of two identical sculptures placed in the niches of Victoria Gate. Cali made two 3D clones of his head invading each other’s space and caught in the act of explosion. The surface of the heads is impregnated with a deep ultramarine hue, which evokes multiple references – from the International Klein Blue to the virtual KANE CALI infinitum – but does not negate its earthy, unpretentious element, with an exaggerated silver flake typical of car paint rather than art. Cali’s final touch – a shimmering, reflective surface – is further at odds with the inner body of the sculptures, made from a cardboard used as recycle packaging material, which is an extension of the labor intensive, handcut layers of the sculptures. Here Cali points at his own vulnerability and the consuming, often conflicting relationship between the artist and his own practice.