All the colors of passion

Painting by Francesco Toraldo has the curious distinction of being modern and at the same time being able to contain within itself some of the milestones that have shaped the history of the twentieth century dell¹arte.

If the blue enamel of the heavens, the deep reds that are the background to the icons of jazz, the blades of yellow, the bright green strokes speak of a feeling for color decisively Fauve, the racing cyclists groups, with the bicycle wheels that overlap to merge into a vortex, refer directly to the Futurists, Balla, in particular.

If the faces of the characters transfiguration speaks of a deep understanding German dell¹espressionismo, strokes of spatula, the scratches, the scratches, the taste for the rough and rugged material reveal visceral l¹impulso l¹artista which relates to the canvas, an instinct that brings him to the entire informal school. In light of this, the story is even more amazing staff dell¹artista. Born in 1960 in Catanzaro, in 1974 he enrolled in art school in his city, but it is a rebellious spirit. After only one year of high school he decided to leave his studies and to elect their own unique master’s father Enzo, refusing from that moment forever l¹istruzione academic.

From his father he learns the taste for balanced shots, rhythmic and strong figuration. And above all discipline. Beside him the young Francis paints for hours. The teacher does not impose anything except constancy. He wants l¹allievo experience and find themselves in full freedom. They exchange a few words, l¹essenziale, and meanwhile listen to music, lots of music. Especially jazz. Mario Ciampi on his head, and then Charlie Parker, Louis Armstrong, Jerry Mulligan, Doc Cheatham, Stan Getz, Howard Johnson. While he learned the rudiments of his first passion, painting, Toraldo discovers un¹altra, music.

They are very special works, those dedicated to jazz, perhaps the most exciting. In the foreground, the middle of
c¹è composition of the musical instrument. The real protagonist of the canvas.
Beside him l¹esecutore that Toraldo choose to make it in fast and essential features of which, however, he can give, with surprising un¹abilità executive, the dell¹immediata character recognition. This center
focal of the canvas. From there, as in an emotional vortex, they leave spiral, towards the ends of the picture, of magmatic colored spots, glowing, bubbling, in which it captures all l¹urgenza of painterly gesture.
red hot lot, Blood, but also cobalt blue, sunshine yellow, black, scratched the white marks. One might say that here Toraldo succeeded nell¹intento to paint music. Paintings seductive, hypnotic, readable
as d¹amore statements. A passionate approach that conquers the public and collectors. The same passion which, moreover, are full all subjects Toraldo. Take sports, for example.
They are committed cyclists straight nell¹ultimo, massed near the finish line, or riding knights to their animals panting, or sumo wrestlers or recent water polo players, lead in the nervous yield
sign and the swarm of swirling backgrounds the way of their joyful scramble toward a goal that, at that time, is the most important in their lives.

But un¹altra of Toraldo characteristics is knowing how to calibrate the passion. In the paintings dedicated to tango, for example, as in those who see the protagonist bullfighting, the pathos seems like congeal,
refrain in the ceremony of the measured gestures, but not for questquesto off in simple tale. Another tone still feels in the nude, loose and abandoned, where the choice is to ease the sensuality, leaving it as an underground suggestion. Finally come the races, they deserve a separate discussion.

L¹occhio dell¹artista has moved away from the subject, took him by a different foreshortening. The busy men on the boat are tiny: small spots made with the brush tip. Suddenly, players are no longer their own, but the nature, l¹immensità sea. And at this point, only at this point, the gesture of Toraldo seems to calm down in un¹ammirata contemplation. The brushwork becomes more smooth and fluid, the backgrounds clearer, more serene equilibrium of the game, less tormented. And the enthusiasm of the painter dies down before the powerful majesty of the Mediterranean.
Milan, November 2005 alessandra redaellii