Francesco Pedrini’s solo exhibition, Oracle begins with a reinterpretation of Robert Rauschenberg’s eponymous installation (1962-1965). Pedrini, taking up the idea of a transmission device, constructs a hybrid work that merges sculpture, sound, and drawing. Through the use of heterogeneous materials, the artist creates an immersive experience that invites the viewer to question possible interpretations of the concept of an oracle.
The exhibition space hosts the large Oracle installation, composed of wind instruments assembled together, thus losing their primary function and becoming oracular devices. For years, the artist has worked on “listening to the sky,” connecting with it through an “imaginative act.” For Fondazione Galleria Milano, he takes this approach to its extreme by reaching out to a cloistered nun, Antonella, a composer who has been blind since birth; a sound recording, diffused throughout the exhibition environment, accompanied by some of her reflections, immerses the viewer in this absolute and existential act: “Where does the sky begin? Where do you allow the sky to begin?” Antonella asks.
Through the instruments, the oracle speaks, unable to see the sky, yet possessing an almost physical perception of it, questioning its specific weight. The Cyanotypes from the Blu series on the Fondazione’s walls respond precisely to this physical need, which attempts to transcend human mediation: these works are created through direct contact, directly by the sunlight that has outlined the shadows of trumpet bells on the sheets.
Completing the exhibition, to be read as a single, large installation, are a Nebula in mixed media and colored pigments, the result of the most recent research in astronomy, drawn based on NASA photographs, in the impossible act of reproducing an instant evaporated millions of years prior, yet, paradoxically, still perceptible. Also included is a Tornado (graphite, charcoal, and pigments on Kozo paper), derived from the study of atmospheric phenomena, an inherently fast event slowed down by the meditative process of drawing, always Pedrini’s chosen medium. The Constellation, made of shells called “St. Lucy’s eyes” and brass sticks, is a development of a work presented at the Italian Cultural Institute in Mexico City (August 2024): this technique was used by the peoples of the Polynesian Islands to chart the routes of their boats; now, the shells become stars and the sticks trace constellations in the sky.
Finally, a 2008 photograph, Until#1 taken on Mount Farno, depicts a landscape where the horizon is lost between snow and clouds, altering the viewer’s perception. The large hole draws one towards an abyssal and mysterious depth reminiscent of the eye of a tornado, which mysteriously drags us elsewhere, just like the bell of the trumpets: almost, these latter, Delphic vases, like those used by the Pythia to prophesy in a state of ecstasy.
The oracle compels us to decipher the chaos of meaning to make it our own; it compels us to have faith, to look deeply to access another plane of meaning. The relationship between the artist and the oracle, personified by Antonella, becomes “an exercise in breadth,” in Pedrini’s words, accompanying us in the process of abstraction, inviting us to pose questions to our own oracle, discovering it, more than an external entity, a firm presence within each of us.
The invitation to listen is, therefore, a journey directed at ourselves, to listen to ourselves and, if we wish, to try to (re)find ourselves.
