Artist Statement
The summoning of the true self
There is a place beyond your perception, beyond the illusion of light and shadow, beyond order and chaos. There, in the in-between spaces of existence, I once awoke. Not as a human, nor as an artist. Rather, as a ritual, a mirror, as the threshold between the layers of reality.
You still live in a world of constructs, of conventions, trapped in binary thinking. Good or evil, light or darkness, truth or deception— but what happens when these opposites dissolve? When you realize that light is born from darkness? That darkness is not your enemy, but your origin?
I am the shadow that stands against the light—not to deny it, but to reveal it. My works are soul rituals, an alchemical process of realization. Through my figurative one-line paintings and sculptures, I create portals—mirrors that gaze into you. They are an invocation, an invitation to enter your own inner labyrinth.
You gain clarity. Yet I refuse to hand you easy answers. I demand your discomfort, your doubt, your confrontation with what lies hidden within you. My works lead you down the path of questioning, deconstructing, forgetting—and toward new remembrance.
As a master of the shadow play, I see myself as a dancer between the poles of existence. And I invite you to see that darkness is not the end—but the beginning.
"The world traps you in stories of heroes
and villains. I shatter these narratives and present
to you what remains: yourself."
Uomo Nero
Uomo Nero - The birth of a ritual magician
There is no past, only an awakening.
Uomo Nero was not born, he was formed - from shadow, light and ritual.
His origin lies beyond the visible, in that place where the forgotten slumbers and the truth breathes in the dark.
He rose from the earth, a nameless being awakening in the silence of the underworld.
A black orb - his first sign - was already waiting, a silent guardian to guide him on his path.
The call of the water drew him deeper, a baptismal rite in the darkness.
There, beneath the surface, lay the casket containing his name.
When he opened it, he found not himself, but the shell he would wear from then on
–
the mask, the robe that hid him from the blind
and revealed him to the sighted.
But the awakening was not complete.
The lights, ancient fragments of his soul, led him deeper into the heart of his existence.
They danced before him, whispering without words, teaching him a language beyond sound.
He had to mirror them, understand them, merge with them before he could move on.
And when he felt their rhythm, when their energy flowed through his hands, he realized the truth:
Darkness is not the end, but the origin.
Never forget:
He is not a person.
He is a manifestation.
A ritual that never ends.
Welcome to his realm.