But how does one portray a kiss? The kiss is a physical fact; an experience as sensual as it is mental — the kiss should be lived in the first person. The kiss requires us to immerse ourselves and melt into it, with no safety net. A kiss is lived directly; we cannot consume other people’s kisses. And yet even the portrayal of the kiss has its own history and its own geography, perhaps even a mathematics of its own. And so, perhaps, its own aesthetics. And maybe an ethics of its own. It can, therefore, be portra-yed: that has been possible and it will be possible …Ferruccio Giromini

And yet even the portrayal of the kiss has its own history and its own geography, perhaps even a mathematics

of its own. And so, perhaps, its own aesthetics. And maybe an ethics of its own. It can, therefore, be portra-yed: that has been possible and it will be possible – permitting us to kiss, one might say, by proxy.

However it’s one thing to portray a kiss in motion, 24 frames per second, and quite another to isolate a single

frame, transforming it into a living stili. Not a stili life, perhaps, but a frozen moment of life – that, yes. Stili.

Quite immobile. The crowning moment, the culmination, the climax. In which every kiss becomes the ideai

kiss. The platonic idea of the kiss.

Different kisses, but each urging towards the archetype.

When all surfaces become soft, velvety, dewy, re-dolent of wild flowers. When our partner’s hair suddenly smells of sea and wind. When we are embarrassed

to realise that we have overcome all embarrassment. When lips put up a soft, collaborative resistance. When

your tongue tastes a soul. When teeth don’t bite threateningly but nibble playfully. When breath hints of truf-fles. When even fingers kiss a face, a neck, earlobes – caressingly. When we tighten our hold without hurting

one another. When our hearts beat madly. When you feel both strong and weak. When your head begins to

spin. When you dose your eyes and, even if you don’t dose them, in the meantime everything around you

disappears, as though nothing exists but this kiss, here and everywhere. When you kiss.

And then, when you portray a kiss you relive all of this. The lines come over all tender and begin to melt, each

of its own accord. The colours flake and blur. The forms half blink and then reinvent themselves. The ideas

get lost as they whirl around one another. It’s just that the lines, the colours and the forms… are kissing.

The exhibition Bacinema, an eloquent crasis of the artistic project elaborated by Tricromia Artgallery, brought together the most appreciated names of the world illustration: Lorenzo Mattotti, Franco Matticchio, Sergio Toppi, Josè Munoz, Mauro Cicarè, Manuele Fior, Guido Scarabottolo, Filippo Sassòli, Tanino Liberatore, Pino Borselli, Enrique Breccia, Stefano Casini, Ale+Ale, Jean Claude Gotting, Lele Vianello, Marina Savona, Jaques Loustal Riccardo Mannelli, e Giovanni Robustell,  who have singly interpreted two works inspired by film kisses like La Dolce Vita, A qualcuno piace caldo, Nostra Signora dei Turchi, Duello al Sole, Colazione da Tiffany, Il lungo sonno, Via col vento, The Big Sleep, il francese Pierrot le fou firmato da Godard, L’Eclisse di Michelangelo Antonioni, Casanova di Fellini, Anna Karenina con una indimenticabile Greta Garbo e il più lungo bacio della celluloide in Notorius.

For the curator of Bacinema, Tiziana Cino, the works of the artists, appear on this occasion as the contemporary interpretation of film posters that abandon the photographic reality to make accomplices soft lines that flirt with the colors.

THE KISS ON FILM

VINCENZO MOLLICA

A gallery with a gift for bringing art to life with crystalline passion, Tricromia have had a fine idea, dedicating an exhibition to the cinematic kiss and inviting artists from the world of comics to apply the sensitive strokes of their pencils to the recreation of scenes from films they have loved. The source of inspiration is the finale of Giuseppe Tornatore’s Cinema Paradiso, the result is a sentimental journey from the world of film to that of the comic strip. Discretion prevents us from asking whether or not these two art forms have actually kissed, but it is lovely to think of cinema and comics as two lovers, almost the same age, who pursue one another, come together, leave each other and then fall back in love, in a marvellous, century-long life together. The perfect soundtrack for this never-tiring love affair is a song by Ivano Fossati, a masterpiece entitled  Il bacio sulla bocca  (The kiss on the lips):

“Darling,

What do we care for the world?

We’ll be redeemed (take it from me)

By a kiss on the lips one of these days”

Like men and women in love, all of the artists involved in the exhibition have drawn the particular flash of cinematic lightning that has kissed their hearts. Only one drawing is missing from the roll cali: a poetic piece by Franco Matticchio, who for fear of Disney’s legai fire-power has, wisely, decided to avoid publishing the drawing. We can, however, describe it: On the wide screen of an old provincial cinema the Handsome Prince kisses Snow White. Taking in the film (the only spectators), the seven dwarfs are scattered around the theatre, each wreathed in melancholy for a kiss never given.