From the soft and pastelled nuances inserted into his soft wax-aquatint, here he goes back to the pastel, in
all his simplicity; that light and at the same time impressive pastel, which reminds us so well of the powder,
whose fine dust children used to breath, and of the very fine coloured dusts of the d’antan face powders.
In order to say it as according to Jean Clair “the grace of the pastel is to be at the same time drawing as
well as spot, inscription and covering, shape and colour”.
[…] In the last artistic productions by Zambrelli, the sky, or better, those clean skies, which used to protect us
during our childhood, when lying on our back on the grass, we used to gaze at the shapes of the clouds in
order to recreate – fancying – strange animal shapes, materialize on the pastels’ “invitation au voyage” (the
frothy rainclouds which remind us of the “wonderful clouds”, scanned by the foreigner of Baudelaire in
“Spleen of Paris”), till the moon rises over the dim light of the evening in “Last Night” and “Suburban moon”..
Not to mention the peaceful and wide expanse cirruses in “Rose” that dominate the snowy summits.
“Leaves of grass” by Zambrelli even in its title, reminds of the homonymous poem by W. Whitman (“Leaves
of Grass”) and shows us green threads of a meadow, that you can guess, swarming with a lot of small
hidden lives.
From the sky to the speculation on the cerulean of the flower pot of Plumbago, on a Mediterranean veranda
(maybe in Sardinia) characterized by clear lights in a sort of quiet immersed noon at summer time.
Similarly as in a correspondence to Magritte’s style, the stones of the exposed gravelly river beds seem to
defy the law of gravity and they seem as light as the clouds are in “Complementary 1” and “Complementary 2”. So, exactly in the same way, pregnant and heavy clouds seem to be suspended stones.
Barbara Majorino
Watching towards the sky drives us towards the big questions of the human being, the Universe, God, time.
The sensitive spirit of Marco Zambrelli, since always immersed in such reflections, has been deeply struck
by the English landscapes painted by John Constable in the XIX century, in whose works the miracle of our life is celebrated in a lyrical way.
Marco starts thinking intensively of the continuous fusion between the earth and the sky, the finite and the infinite, and from this, his studies on clouds, on their movements, on their effects of light and colour which he has in common with the romantic artist: balance, harmony, light, skill of catching the moment are the
ingredients of these unique and extraordinary evocative works.
Lara Scandroglio
desperate and final glow of the latest sunset
which rusts over the plain
while immersing itself deeply into it … […]
Jorge Luis Borges
