Speed: a qualitative adjective or a proper noun?
Without delving into or wishing to expand upon Leonardo da Vinci’s treatise on painting, Andrea Benetti bases his work on the study of the internal construction of his compositions, where speed dictates the arrangement of plastic, pictorial, and graphic elements. Like that of the human body or a “machine,” this speed is discreet, sometimes even imperceptible… yet it remains ever-present, imparting to the artwork those lines of force that are an integral part of his artistic life.
The artist positions himself before his work, studying its dynamic lines. As spectators, we may be tempted to uncover the mystery of his approach, seeking a method of interpretation, attempting to decipher its aesthetic value by applying a privileged formula. Yet, not being mathematicians nor philosophers, we “interpret freely.”
Speed seems to be the defining key of our century, as well as of the one just past, where the rapidity of execution was essential to success. Seeking similarities, correspondences, or comparative methods with the avant-gardes could serve as an “excuse” to decipher the history and genesis of his artistic expression. However, such references are so evident that the very way in which he expresses them quickly renders such comparisons unnecessary. Cézanne, rather than the Futurists, might be a more intriguing artist for comparison—particularly for his painting method, which emerged after the great innovations of Impressionism. With this “young” painter, we can begin a discussion on the “speed” of execution: with a brush barely dipped in paint, he could instantly and spontaneously capture a landscape or a figure with the same significance, using the same method, and maintaining the same aesthetic quality—through light and color.
This is merely an introduction to the chronological order that often presents itself to us, reflecting a journey and a layering of chromatic ideas. It stems from the acknowledgment that every artist has been, and continues to be, a student.
For this very reason, I would define Andrea Benetti’s expressive attitude as pluralistic.
The venerable treatises of Cennino Cennini, Leonardo da Vinci, Dürer, or the writings of Delacroix guide us in our research and in our way of “seeing” art—not in an attempt to control the past, but rather to rediscover and reevaluate its message, allowing us to reinterpret the present. The painter or artist who claims such a title does so because they have discovered their ability to “swiftly” grasp a figure or a landscape.
We must pay tribute to Andrea Benetti’s instinct and intuition, to his emphasis on and interpretation of speed. His perspective reaches far back—to treatises, to the caves of primitive humans—before accelerating toward contemporaneity, through the speed of his gaze upon painting, form, and the essence of modernity.
A chromatic self-critique, a playful exuberance, a way of softening the brutality of war exalted by the Futurists—who, a century later, remain relevant, highlighting in today’s political climate the dimensions of economic and productive crisis, just as they did then. We now live in an era defined by the multiplied speed of communication, marked by events ranging from the moon landing to the discovery of nanoscale computing, capable of performing calculations at the speed of light… Yet, no technological advancement will ever replace the human hand, nor its imprint on the canvas, the form, or the chosen color—giving shape to a dream, the dream of the artist who lives in his time at the speed of his imagination.