“I love sculpture which I look at frontally, privileging a bi-dimensional development, a growth of surfaces; sculpture which cuts out a portion of space rather than occupies it,” Ms Sasso wrote in a catalogue published in Alessandria in 1989. And, in the meanwhile, consistently, her sculpture has moved on. She well knows that whoever composes, articulates, cuts out and wedges, sets about forming a margin or defining an edge. Her drawings, and above all the collages which she has composed, show this. They are always richer, denser, thicker and above all more opaque; that is, ever more detached from their support. So that the edge, here in these drawings and collages, but also in her sculptures, becomes rich in signs and indications, so that in the space beside the colours and materials, or in the emptiness below or in front, they are not yet directly shown but rather made known or soberly indicated in such a way that other accumulated spaces and successive further turmoils are felt.
If to sculpt is a question of limits; if it is to act to restrain gesture and movement in which too much immediate knowledge, curiosity and tensions press; if it is to guarantee concentration and space for reflection, then restraint and concentration are now on exhibition, in front and around, to indicate and direct, to push and confront. In such a way that, as Braque realised in his time, with sculpting, constructing and composing it is no longer about metaphor, but metamorphosis.
Let us look at one of Marina Sasso’s recent sculptures. The alternative and complementary process is immediately evident: the composed and connected surface puts in motion other surfaces on this side of the first which are transparent but developing towards whoever is immobile on the other bank, waiting.
The immobility of the pictorial icon with which Ms Sasso dialogues is reconquered by space, by the air which brushes it. So that a dis-articulation, a process of deconstruction, acts on the composition of forms and materials. Backgrounds remain still, but one notices them on the edge of a space of pulsations and breath, almost as if the sculptress’s invitation was not to contemplate and gaze but to play her works, to make the materials ring out like colours. The sculpture puts space in motion, occupying portions of it where, apparently, it does not enter; it makes itself manipulate, push and contract distances and separations. So its presence is thinned down and, on the contray, given its own space. Exactly what painting cannot give itself but sculpture is able to re-annex (remember Geometria d’ombra?).
To examine how the work pushes, if we want to repeat a famous saying. And, therefore, inverting the order of the elements: to sculpt, occupy and arrange so that what is beyond the forms, on the other side of the materials, next to colour, can animate itself, move and ring out. Fill itself up.