“Untitled” by Sandro Martini.

• Etching
• Dimensions: 56 x 80 cm
• Print run 103/200

His grandfather is always present in his memories: the Armenian from Aleppo, with the long blue-white beard, shaded with nicotine around the mouth, very rich and imperious in his large house in the Ardenza area of ​​Livorno.

In '77 he headed to the United States, first to New York, then the Pacific coast, where he began teaching two months a year. Then came the first installations, colossal kites that fly to the sky, large canvases that cover spaces, adorning and enlivening them. One of note was displayed in 1983 at the Milan stock exchange: for a month the traders shouted their prices under large canvases, stretching from one side of the room to the other.

Between a canvas and a collage, an installation and a pannel, Sandro writes. About himself, about what goes on in his head. It is hard to follow the twists and turns of his mind, a sort of escape. They are almost film scenes, which unfold, repeating themselves. They are monologues, stories, memories, theses and transparencies like life that flows. Picasso, Tápies, Fontana, Capote, Proust, Baudelaire all meet as he makes references and insightful comments, offering a culture with substance.

Martini writes wildly, without order. A true writer who follows only instinct, full of love but lonely, confident as a creator. He moves from Berkeley to Milan, from the Mexican revolution to the smells of painting: rancid oil. In any case, everyday life.