Exhibition Note
Calvino: Beyond The Visible
Ahmed Ben Nessib, Aymen Mbarki, Kamal Zakour, Othman Selmi, Seif Eddine Nechi, Sonia Ben Selem
Curated by Abir Gasmi and Anna Gabai
Organized by the Italian Cultural Institute of Tunis as part of the Calvino In Tunis Series, October 17 – November 30, 2023; Millefeuilles Bookstore, La Marsa.
How can one interpret a story or an idea through images?
At first, the task seems daunting and incongruous. Yet, that is precisely what we asked six artists to do: select a novel by Italo Calvino and translate it into images, even if they were unfamiliar with his work. They had to discover the author, read him, digest him, dream about him, make his stories their own, explore the hidden corners of his oeuvre, and finally, like alchemists, transform his words into drawings.
It is in the corners and crevices of language, in the spaces in between, where a hidden, underground narrative can be found—one that words cannot fully capture, but which images freeze, like a drop of water in the heart of winter. Calvino’s stories are full of these hidden spaces. His books are half-open doors leading to entire universes, and his sentences do what writing does best: they suggest, indicate, and conceal to reveal. His subtly, light, playful, and evocative prose transforms each reader into an imaginary illustrator.
But more than merely illustrating the text, the images in this exhibition suggest what the written word cannot say or manifest. They go beyond the visible. The result is an enchanting and kaleidoscopic exhibition where refined blacks and whites intertwine with vibrant colors, shadows dance with glimmers of light, and tiny creatures find the space we never knew they needed.
These illustrations make us feel at home by drawing on familiar motifs and stories while illuminating new dimensions of Calvino’s prose that we had not previously considered. They transcend their role as mere complements to the text, allowing us to discover a microcosm—that of each artist—whose imagination draws from the writer’s nuances yet maintains its unique substance. The works combine two creative realities that overlap and blend surprisingly, uniting opposites in the same space: classicism and experimentation, light and darkness, color and black and white…
Like the Ligurian author, these artists have embarked on a journey through worlds and eras, using their talents to allow us to experience an aesthetic encounter that transcends the every day without abandoning it. Instead, it enriches it, making it more lovable and comprehensible.
While walking through a Ligurian forest, for a brief moment, it seemed to me as though I saw Cosimo, the Baron in the Trees, dashing among the branches of oaks and chestnuts. Calvino had an extensive knowledge of plants and nature and a profound love for his Ligurian mountains, which rise steeply above the Mediterranean. He could have boarded a ship in Genoa and reached Tunis, moving from one city of alleyways and palaces to another, rich in narrow streets and grand buildings. I can picture him pausing along the avenues of Tunis to observe which trees grow there, taking a moment to cool himself beneath their canopy. During such a walk, he might have dreamed up a new invisible city—a welcoming city colored by pink and orange bougainvillea.
In preparing for the exhibition, I read the books the artists had chosen as their sources of inspiration. At times, when I came across particularly detailed passages, I wondered how these might influence the illustrations and whether those phrases would be perceived as too restrictive. Predictably, I was proven wrong. Each artist interpreted the works through their own unique perspective.
My curiosity to see the paintings grew weekly: What would I recognize? How would the landscape be transformed?
We can recognize Agilulfo, the Nonexistent Knight, in Ahmed Ben Nessib’s work. He walks pensively among bats and lampposts, sleepless and full of existential doubts like Nat King Cole swearing that it will be forever when he falls in love. It is a nocturnal scene set in the dark, deserted streets of a city, which bears traces of daytime activity like the camp in the novel. Yet, the protagonist finds a way to carve out a space for meditation.
The empty armor of the Nonexistent Knight as a metaphor for artificial intelligence—a double-edged sword of our creativity—is perfectly captured in the illustrations by Seif Eddine Nechi. Here, Agilulfo is not the sole protagonist; his squire, Gurdulù, also has a place. The artist thus manages to give form to the dichotomy at the heart of this novel: the personification of rules and discipline in contrast with instinct. The knight’s colorful plume stands out amidst the blue and white that characterize these digital illustrations and echoes the colored pencil drawing that portrays the four main characters as puppets reminiscent of Sicilian marionettes. Here, the rational Agilulfo, the impulsive Rambaldo, the passionate Bradamante, and the exuberant Gurdulù regain a classical physicality that would have been understood even at Charlemagne’s court.
Italian folk tales come to life thanks to the vibrant colors and whimsical creatures that inhabit Sonia Bensalem’s works. In one illustration, a young man sleeps alongside a dog and a cat. In the background, the phrase “fairy tales are true…” hints at what they are dreaming. In another beautiful panel, creatures of the sky and sea gather around a giant resting beneath a large tree: an octopus, many small birds, a few donkeys, queens, and cottages—so many loving details drawn with the same care as the characters in the third illustration, where they tidy another giant’s beard using rakes.
Thanks to Aymen Mbarki’s flowing lines, the characters from the complex novel If on a Winter’s Night, a Traveler become perfectly comprehensible. A play of volumes characterizes the illustrations: the delicate features of people engrossed in reading are framed by bolder lines that guide the eye across the three illustrations. In this work, aged paper creates a welcoming environment for the black ink, giving it even greater depth.
Othman Selmi brings us into the treetops to chase after Cosimo, the rebellious baron who will never descend again. Selmi gives the work a contemporary touch, choosing almost pastel-like colors and capturing all the love the protagonist feels—for freedom, his friends, Viola, and the forest. In the illustration where young Cosimo reads to the bandit Gian dei Brughi, all these themes come together: the young baron, with an open book, sits on the back of the bandit, crammed into a cell too small for him. A blossoming tattoo adorns the bandit’s giant arm, and small trees grow at his feet.
Then, Abir Gasmi and Kamal Zakkour created the three new invisible cities, suspended between shadows and sea breezes. Fiorita, Spaventata, and Pretenziosa are projections of the soul drawn in charcoal on paper. Many of us would love to live forever in Fiorita. Still, we know all too well that without knowing Spaventata and Pretenziosa, we would never appreciate the value of the city where “restless souls find peace.”
The search for the proper nails to support so much beauty led me to a small hardware store, where an attentive and precise apprentice helped me. We chose small, dark nails—discreet yet intense—and hammered them into the white walls, freshly repainted for the occasion. There was a dance of the paintings until one evening, after sunset, everything fell into place, and we left, satisfied. We hung books on the walls to share the stories we had loved with all those who came to visit.
Once everything is in place, there is that slightly dizzying moment when you look around and remember the empty room when everything was still packed against the walls. Yes, something could still be changed. No, everything will stay just as it is.
Calvino would have liked it.
The catalouge “Calvino a Tunisi,” edited by Chiara Comito, will be published by Mesogea at the end of November 2024.
_Abir Gasmi and Anna Gabai
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