Arachne dared to challenge Athena, weaving the loves and faults of the gods into her tapestry with shuttle and thread, shedding light with sharp irony on the cunning and deceit used to achieve divine ends. Offended by the girl’s skill and audacity, the goddess reduced her to a tiny spider, condemning her to spin thread from her mouth for the rest of her days.
Metamorphoses and correspondences between human and animal attributes also manifest in the subjects of Dial Dialogue Dial, albeit less predictably and linearly. In our narrative tapestry contrasts lead the way, zigzagging between dream and wakefulness, between fairy tale and myth, between the magical and the symbolic.
A female figure with the head of a bat towers beside a classical structure. Likely a goddess, she watches over a temple, her hand resting upon it – perhaps to guard and care for it, a divine warning, or maybe a symbol of wisdom returning to watch over humankind. Yet a sense of suspension and drama, reminiscent of the settings and stories of ancient Greek theatrical performances, permeates the scene – the subject of a long-stitch embroidery – shrouding it in metaphysical unease.
A black raven, by contrast, has wedged its beak into a house and found itself trapped in a state of impasse. It is as if, by poetic justice, its arrogance has been punished with the absence of any escape route; fixed in place, a torch in its mouth, disarmed. A creature of the night, bearer of ominous omens but also sacred in some myths, it has here been transformed into a papier-mâché toy lighthouse, condemned to rotate endlessly on itself – perhaps in the hope of teaching us something, like in the best of Aesop’s fables.
Elsewhere, the image of a fruit basket, in front of which an old telephone receiver dangles, evokes a scene straight out of a Hitchcock film – capturing that precise moment when a detail foreshadows an unexpected event. The drama and suspense of waiting – of a missed call or an interrupted conversation – are suddenly shattered by the focus shifting to tiny presences fluttering around the food in the foreground. Small cherub-like insects burst into the scene, rewriting the still life that seemed lifted from a Flemish painting.
It is easy to lose the thread of these stories among contrasts, reversals, and unexpected twists. At times caricatures with an apparent moral undertone, at times revisited myths, the works present themselves as bold iconographic assemblages – where spaces teetering between interior and exterior blend through surprising turns of events, where the cinematic tension of domestic scenes dissolves into symbolic and spatial subversions; where theatrical gravitas alternates with irreverent irony.
A domestic dimension ties together the works of Melanie, Sara, and Maria through settings reminiscent of theatrical stage designs – made even more vivid by the integration of what could be actual props, such as the raven-lamp spinning on a windshield wiper motor or the objet trouvé telephone. But also through techniques and materials that intimately affect us – like the raw canvas lovingly embroidered – contributing to the construction of the physical and psychological architectures of the exhibition.
A missed dialogue – the fallen telephone of Melanie, Sara’s raven spinning in an endless loop, incapable of forming a connection – these are the protagonists of Dial Dialogue Dial. Seemingly part of a silent discourse, they help define an intimate space in which to recall, weave, and rewrite stories. Like Arachne, they too are transformed, reminding us how storytelling is dear to weavers – she herself is part of a myth narrated and passed down through time.
Knowing the story of Maria Morino Savinio and listening to those of Sara Ravelli and Melanie Ebenhoch, we decided to intertwine their narratives into a single tale – to reveal those invisible threads that connect the works of the three artists, bridging generations and languages.
Arachne dared to challenge Athena, weaving the loves and faults of the gods into her tapestry with shuttle and thread, shedding light with sharp irony on the cunning and deceit used to achieve divine ends. Offended by the girl’s skill and audacity, the goddess reduced her to a tiny spider, condemning her to spin thread from her mouth for the rest of her days.
Metamorphoses and correspondences between human and animal attributes also manifest in the subjects of Dial Dialogue Dial, albeit less predictably and linearly. In our narrative tapestry contrasts lead the way, zigzagging between dream and wakefulness, between fairy tale and myth, between the magical and the symbolic.
A female figure with the head of a bat towers beside a classical structure. Likely a goddess, she watches over a temple, her hand resting upon it – perhaps to guard and care for it, a divine warning, or maybe a symbol of wisdom returning to watch over humankind. Yet a sense of suspension and drama, reminiscent of the settings and stories of ancient Greek theatrical performances, permeates the scene – the subject of a long-stitch embroidery – shrouding it in metaphysical unease.
A black raven, by contrast, has wedged its beak into a house and found itself trapped in a state of impasse. It is as if, by poetic justice, its arrogance has been punished with the absence of any escape route; fixed in place, a torch in its mouth, disarmed. A creature of the night, bearer of ominous omens but also sacred in some myths, it has here been transformed into a papier-mâché toy lighthouse, condemned to rotate endlessly on itself – perhaps in the hope of teaching us something, like in the best of Aesop’s fables.
Elsewhere, the image of a fruit basket, in front of which an old telephone receiver dangles, evokes a scene straight out of a Hitchcock film – capturing that precise moment when a detail foreshadows an unexpected event. The drama and suspense of waiting – of a missed call or an interrupted conversation – are suddenly shattered by the focus shifting to tiny presences fluttering around the food in the foreground. Small cherub-like insects burst into the scene, rewriting the still life that seemed lifted from a Flemish painting.
It is easy to lose the thread of these stories among contrasts, reversals, and unexpected twists. At times caricatures with an apparent moral undertone, at times revisited myths, the works present themselves as bold iconographic assemblages – where spaces teetering between interior and exterior blend through surprising turns of events, where the cinematic tension of domestic scenes dissolves into symbolic and spatial subversions; where theatrical gravitas alternates with irreverent irony.
A domestic dimension ties together the works of Melanie, Sara, and Maria through settings reminiscent of theatrical stage designs – made even more vivid by the integration of what could be actual props, such as the raven-lamp spinning on a windshield wiper motor or the objet trouvé telephone. But also through techniques and materials that intimately affect us – like the raw canvas lovingly embroidered – contributing to the construction of the physical and psychological architectures of the exhibition.
A missed dialogue – the fallen telephone of Melanie, Sara’s raven spinning in an endless loop, incapable of forming a connection – these are the protagonists of Dial Dialogue Dial. Seemingly part of a silent discourse, they help define an intimate space in which to recall, weave, and rewrite stories. Like Arachne, they too are transformed, reminding us how storytelling is dear to weavers – she herself is part of a myth narrated and passed down through time.
Knowing the story of Maria Morino Savinio and listening to those of Sara Ravelli and Melanie Ebenhoch, we decided to intertwine their narratives into a single tale – to reveal those invisible threads that connect the works of the three artists, bridging generations and languages.