Andrea Benetti, a Bolognese artist who has exhibited multiple times in galleries and museums overseas, commemorates September 11 at the American university in his own city.
A fascinating intertwining of sensitivity and borders, and a creative gesture meant to inspire a rebirth from the rubble—to make a clean slate of violence and start anew, placing the only possible antidote at stake: peace. Through the power of art, Johns Hopkins University on Via Belmeloro, together with the “Luciano Finelli” Association, Friends of Johns Hopkins University, has chosen to remember September 11 with a small yet significant exhibition titled “Memory”, set up in the atrium of the institute by Andrea Benetti and Lanfranco Di Rico, a sculptor originally from Bologna but essentially adopted by the city.
“I usually exhibit abroad,” Benetti explains, “and I collaborate with the ‘Museum of Italian Contemporary Art in America’ in Costa Rica, with which I am involved in a very demanding project. But Bologna has hosted an important American university for 52 years—a concrete symbol of multiculturalism—so it felt natural to propose exhibiting our works on the tragedy of the Twin Towers right there. And Director Kenneth Keller literally welcomed us with open arms.”
On the roads of faraway America, then, Benetti—who usually remains detached from the artistic environment of his own city—returns home. “I hadn’t thought about it that way,” he admits. “I only know that the attack on the Twin Towers was a blow to the soul of humanity, one that changed history. Like everyone, I was deeply affected. My art,” he continues, “is defined as Neo-Cave, meaning it explores primordial forms and materials. For me, this exploration signifies wiping away the appalling brutality and backwardness to which the world has descended. It means reassessing human history by returning to the most basic acts and emotions: love and peace. This is my message in remembering the victims of that tragic 2001.”
On display are several of Benetti’s works: torn nets from which emerge the names of the victims of those explosions, delicate breaths that invite hope, and small raised craters that seem to contrast innocence with the anguish of Ground Zero.
Lanfranco Di Rico’s approach is equally essential, conveying the same simple yet affectionate message. This sentiment is also reflected in the sculpture he created with Benetti, which houses a video by Nicola Roversi and Andrea Benetti, compiling footage broadcast by television networks worldwide on that unforgettable day.
The project Benetti is developing with the museum in Costa Rica, however, is quite different: “It will be,” he explains, “a true art book with a canvas cover, featuring a collection of my works on the theme of speed. It’s a colossal endeavor, incorporating various essays by critics and university professors from all over the world.”
Will you present it in Bologna?
“Perhaps,” he jokes, “at Johns Hopkins University.”