Until April 30, at Palazzo d’Accursio, the works of the Bolognese artist—who was a protagonist of the 53rd Venice Biennale with the Neo-Cave Art Manifesto—meet the music of Vasco Rossi’s collaborator: “I draw inspiration from the art of primitive man, as a symbol of returning to the origins, to start anew with a future not solely built on domination.”
His works are exhibited in the Art Collection of the Quirinale, at the avant-garde Museion in Bolzano, at MamBo in Bologna, and at the Glass Palace in New York. After his Neo-Cave art—his reinterpretation of the symbolism of primitive painting, in which objects teeter between an archaic past and a hyper-technological future—has traveled the world, Andrea Benetti returns to Bologna with the exhibition “Colors and Sounds of the Origins,” hosted at Palazzo d’Accursio (Sala d’Ercole) from April 10 to 30. In an unusual fusion of sound and image, the exhibition will be accompanied by a performance by multi-instrumentalist Frank Nemola, a long-time collaborator of Vasco Rossi. The live performance, lasting about twenty minutes, will serve as both a soundscape and an integral part of the exhibition throughout its duration.

How did the idea and inspiration for Neo-Cave Art arise, along with the definition of what is essentially a new pictorial genre?
“I may have understood its origin while discussing it with Professor Gianfranco Bartalotta, who invited me to give a lecture on Neo-Cave Art at Roma Tre University. Through his questions, I realized the passion for art and caves that my grandfather had instilled in me since childhood, taking me to visit artistic wonders and caves across Europe. Later, I delved into the study of cave painting and was captivated by it. So, when I began contemplating a new vision of the world—necessary to prevent humanity’s self-inflicted demise—I saw a parallel in a symbolic reset. The evocative power of primitive man’s art returned to my mind, symbolizing a return to origins as a means of starting afresh, stepping into a future that is not solely defined by consumerism and oppression.”

Primitivism has repeatedly resurfaced throughout the history of art and thought—as both an escape and a return to an original purity, to a lost Eden—whereas you intentionally blend it with references to the mechanical present and contemporary objects. How does your personal vision of primitivism take shape?
“My vision is symbolic: it is man resetting himself and returning to his origins, to rebuild a renewed world centered around human dignity and respect for the environment. In my art, the vision of primitive man merges with that of contemporary man as a playful dynamic. Thus, we see the primitive man catapulted into the 21st century, painting cave walls with the iconography of our times—airplanes, cars, golfers, and sailboats replace bison and reindeer. It is, in essence, a reclaiming of the origins of expressiveness, now infused with contemporary forms and objects.”
When did your collaboration with Nemola begin? Is his contribution an accompaniment or a complement to the works on display? Does it reveal a deeper meaning, a rhythm? After all, music and dance evoke archaic, ancestral sensations; they, too, are a kind of pre-language…
“What binds me to Frank is, first and foremost, a twenty-year artistic and personal friendship, in which we both feel the strong need to complete, contaminate, and build together with other artistic forms that complement our own. Art, as a project to be created together. I met Frank when I was professionally involved in music, and I was fortunate enough to collaborate with him, someone who navigates music like a fish in water. Today, I feel like we are continuing that collaboration: I play colors, and he paints with sound.”

What memory do you have of your encounter with Pope Benedict XVI?
“To be precise, I did not meet the Pope personally. One of my works was donated to the Pontiff by a delegation from A.N.F.E., the association representing Italians around the world, on the occasion of its 60th anniversary. I was present, but I must admit, quite unpresentable—I was wearing a black hoodie, as it was raining. I chose to observe the act of donation from a distance. I must say, the experience was deeply moving; in the Vatican, one breathes history, almost as if it were still alive in the past. My casual attire would have been decidedly inappropriate for the solemnity of the place. I preferred to remain, let’s say, incognito.”