Girolamo Ciulla embodies to me one of the masters who taught me the most intimate meaning of artistic creation, an understanding paradoxically impossible to convey in words.
Born in Sicily in 1952, Ciulla's artistic journey led him from Caltanissetta to Bologna and then Pietrasanta, where I had the fortune of meeting him.
In a nation that long adhered to conceptual art, often discordant, Ciulla carried an intensely figurative message, exploring archaic depictions often entwined with mythology. For a long time, he became the bard of our tradition, delving into its genetically relevant essence, often intertwining with architecture, echoing his homeland and ancient roots.
If there's an artist who embodied the strength of the archetype, it's Girolamo Ciulla, with his captivating anthropomorphic deities and whimsical yet stern animals.
Undoubtedly, Ciulla belonged to another era in his profession—a stoic man of few words, preferring his works to speak, conveying strength through strokes, grand designs, and especially the roughly hewn stone, his trademark travertine.
Recollections flood my mind: his grand exhibitions, the exquisite installation at Milan's EXPO, the significant showcases in Sicily. I recall his emotion and enthusiasm when discussing them—Ciulla's art was his life. He felt equally disappointed when one couldn't grasp his creative message and elated when meeting a soul resonating with his artistic sensibility.
Ciulla mastered advocating for the simplicity of art, our history's inherent strength, the heritage we carry consciously or subconsciously. I've seen eminent art collectors and critics genuinely moved before the Sicilian master's works, renowned artists paying tribute to Girolamo Ciulla. While we're drawn to the depths of conceptual intrigue, we must also bow to the atavistic beauty of our origins.
Among those penning extensive accounts of his work are Beatrice Buscaroli, Marilena Pasquali, Pietro Marani, and Vittorio Sgarbi, long associated with the maestro.
Girolamo Ciulla leaves us with a message of profound poetry and truth—a reminder that art is simple, yet it takes a lifetime to find that simplicity, a life like his, wholly dedicated to art. In these sorrowful days, I prefer to remember him seated silently in his studio, surrounded by marble, bronze, and colors, contemplating his own creations.
