Unexpectedly ancestors

I’d wrong Luigi Lineri if I spoke about him with scientific critics’ language. And it would be useless too. Because I couldn’t communicate anything about the intuition which is at the origin of his story. It seems that chaos moves everything: not confusion but explosion of life. With fragments in every direction.
Dialectal poetry, for instance. Two tender tiny touching books: “Peso de cel” (Weight of Sky) and “Canto par i silensi e i pestoni” (Singing for silences and sufferings). To read silently.
Or the pictures. Witnesses at a whole life research. If you are lucky and have a picture of his, you’re a privileged.
And what about the sculptures? It’s the same. But this time there’s an expressive material, ceramic, with a technique you can’t find anywhere else. I mean there are certainly other artistic ceramics in the world, but they’re not the same. Not even similar.
But the stones! A thirty years research. According to his theory, they’re undoubtedly primitive sculpture. Symbols of a lost life. Of a history we can’t understand anymore. In the whirl of our everyday absurdity. Luigi Lineri is art with no trumpet ringing or fanfare noise. While others blow in their trombones, he hides his “ssiolotin” (flageolet) to protect it from noise.
In his house in Zevio, a real permanent art exhibition, you can breathe freedom. Winged culture. Not even skimmed by lotting nightmares, compromises or other similar miseries. You can dream. And believe it.
For any other man I’d attach a photograph but not for him.
It’s not a case that Lineri lives in Zevio. That’s the place where ancient men left the stone witness in order to have him picking it up and handing it down to posterity. Moreover in Zevio he has all he needs.
It should have been an interview but I changed my mind immediately. Cause it would have been useless too. We have his work of art to see, to touch. To love.