Maurizio Cattelan
I’m fascinated by how time changes the perception of things
“Even though my works are never inspired by the present, they always end up telling its story—they all end up there”
There’s always something imperceptible at play in Maurizio Cattelan’s works. A slow, underground movement that goes unnoticed, only to strike with the force of an unforgettable image. “Seasons”, the large-scale exhibition organized by GAMeC as part of the “Thinking Like a Mountain” project unfolding across the city of Bergamo, is no exception. One artist, four venues and five works serving as an invitation to reflect on the passage of time. From the marble sculpture “November 2023”, displayed in the Gothic solemnity of Palazzo della Ragione, to the light yet unsettling provocation of “One” at the Rotonda dei Mille, each work embodies a phase of his life, turning his autobiography into a series of monuments. Because with Cattelan, the sacred and the profane always share the same frame. And so, between the sculpted face of a lost friend and a child playing with the memory of Garibaldi, “Seasons” reveals itself for what it truly is: a tender and ruthless requiem on the end—and the beginning—of all things.
The work on display at the GAMeC strongly recalls your controversial “Him”—a kneeling Hitler with the body of a child, hands clasped in prayer, and eyes filled with emotion. Only this time, the eyes are hidden behind a paper bag…?
Maurizio Cattelan:
Yes. For an exhibition in China, I had originally planned to show “Him”, but they asked me to cover the face for censorship reasons. So I decided to place a paper bag over the head. That gesture gave birth to a new work, which I titled “No”. It’s a standalone piece, different from the previous one.
Then there’s “November 2023”, a sculpture in Carrara marble exhibited at Palazzo della Ragione. This work is especially powerful. Whose face did you choose to sculpt, and what kind of connection does it have with the figure of the homeless man?
Maurizio Cattelan:
This work speaks of loneliness, of those who are invisible. The homeless man’s face is that of Lucio, the artisan and friend who has worked on almost all my pieces. He passed away in November two years ago, and now his two sons have picked up the torch. Lucio was someone who enjoyed spending time at exhibitions—now, with this work, he’ll be forced to stay in one for quite a while. “November 2023” is my way of paying tribute to him.
In “One”, which on display at the Rotonda dei Mille just steps from the center of Bergamo, we see a child sitting astride the statue of Garibaldi. Is it a provocation? An ode? How did this reflection on the figure of the hero and its meaning today come about?
Maurizio Cattelan:
I leave it open to interpretation. Giuseppe Garibaldi, now seen as a national hero, was once also a feared figure—someone who inspired a sense of dread. I was intrigued by how time shifts the perception of things.
And what about that child in the red T-shirt sitting atop the “Hero of the Two Worlds”—what does he represent?
Maurizio Cattelan:
As I said, interpretation is open. On one hand, the child seems to lean on Garibaldi’s shoulders in search of protection and a new sense of unity. On the other, with his finger-gun gesture, he also seems to be mocking him. Which of the two is the real meaning?
You’ve often said that your works don’t speak directly about the present…
Maurizio Cattelan:
Exactly. Even though none of my works are explicitly inspired by the present, they always end up telling its story. They all end up there. It’s inevitable.
Photos: Ludovica Arcero
Text: Germano D’Acquisto
