We meet Matteo Cervone in a Barcelona preparing for a scorching autumn season, between the nomadic biennial Manifesta 15 and the SWAB fair.Originally from Milan, Cervone is currently exhibiting his series Man in the Mirror as part of the collective exhibition #DISCONNECTED at the Hub/Art gallery, located at Carrer del Dr. Trueta 183, open until October 31st. In this conversation, Cervone talks to us about his artistic journey, how it developed, and what his future projects are. One thing is certain: after reading this interview, you’ll never look at traffic lights the same way again!
Greta Zuccali: We know your path hasn’t been conventional. With over thirty years of experience as a consultant and project manager in the corporate world, what pushed you to change direction and dedicate yourself to art?
Matteo Cervone: It was a gradual process. As early as 2000, I began studying visual communication and using photography to capture my visions. In 2011, I opened my first studio, though I still devoted minimal time to it compared to my official profession. In 2018, the company I worked for made drastic staff cuts, and that’s when I decided to take the leap, something I had been preparing for over the years. Time allows us to explore new things. For me, the “new” was the art world, where I could immerse myself in emotion to find new richness. This world is almost antithetical to the corporate one, where efficiency and effectiveness matter, and emotion often has to be controlled.
What sparked your interest in traffic lights as a photographic subject?
In the company, I dealt with issues related to personnel, organizational behavior, and boss/collaborator relationships. For years, I was a trainer in the field of organizational change. So the relational theme, the emotional elements, has always been part of my professional focus. When I started using photography, I continued to depict people. It’s no coincidence that for almost a decade, I focused mainly on portrait and figure studies, both in “controlled” situations, like in the studio, and outdoors. I must admit that I found it difficult to bring out emotion because the human subject is so expressive and full of messages that it was hard for me to distill just one psychological or social message. I found it easier to investigate common objects, seeking the element that evoked an unexpected emotion, rather than the primary communication for which the object was created.
Could you explain how a project is born? Do you choose where to photograph based on ideas you already have in mind, or do you let chance guide you?
It’s important to distinguish between the origin of the image and the origin of the project since the processes are different. Images usually stem from careful observation of what I find on the street. As I travel or walk, if I see a subject that strikes me, I start taking visual notes, shooting with my phone. I study the framing, background, natural lighting, the sun’s movement, the area, and traffic. I get an idea of which photographic equipment to bring and the supports I’ll need (ladders, etc.). These are the first steps to capturing an image that tells a story. The creation of a project, however, happens when I want to address a specific theme: I select and sequence existing images, search for missing ones, and retrieve material from my archives, which contain thousands of images. Often, if I don’t like the lighting or angle, I return to the original locations to reshoot. Finally, there’s a moment when all the images are reviewed for cinematic coherence (colors, contrasts, cropping, etc.).
Are titles an integral part of your work?
The title represents the meaning the work holds for me, but I don’t consider it binding. In fact, I often see exhibition visitors observing the works from afar without reading the titles. I believe the subject should evoke meanings that are not necessarily uniform, and that’s the power of the work itself. However, regarding title creation, I must say I am closely tied to the music of the 1920s, ‘30s, and ‘40s, so it’s no coincidence that my works often reference songs or films from that period. As I think about the image or retouch it, I keep humming, so I’m not sure if it’s the image that recalls the song or vice versa. For example, the piece with the melted traffic light I titled Some Like It Hot. What I’ve realized is that I like to have a reference that is understandable both in Italian and English.
Why can the theme of relationships with others be evoked through inanimate objects like traffic lights?
In primary school, there was a rhyme: “Red, you can’t cross. Yellow, it’s a break. Green, hurry up or you’ll lose your chance to pass.” So, traffic lights, in my personal history, originated as a tool for interacting with others. At university, in a Political Philosophy course, they were presented as an example of a social contract: the ability to limit ourselves (respect for the red light) is linked to the guarantee of our rights (certainty of passing with the green light). Social relationships (and interactions) change when a traffic light is off at an intersection (chaos ensues). And like people, traffic lights are numerous. They all appear similar, seen together, but like individuals, they are all different when taken individually and observed in their specific context.
Approaching your work also means discovering the world behind these road signs. Can you share any curiosities about traffic lights?
What struck me most when I started was imagining the research would be finished after just a few shots: here’s the green, here’s the red… Done. But I noticed that in Italy, every municipality – and there are more than ten thousand – buys traffic lights from different companies. So, the lanterns, arrows, bikes, and figures may seem the same but actually have very marked differences. The funniest research is on what I call the “Frankensteins.” These are traffic lights resulting from repairs (combining two broken ones into a working one), and there you find really unusual things: upside-down figures, modified with electrical tape, hand-painted, or with the wrong bulbs… You really see it all! When I started abroad… A whole new world opened up!
In the current exhibition in Barcelona titled #DISCONNECTED, the paradoxical theme of a hyper-connected society experiencing more solitude than ever before is explored. How does your series Man in the Mirror fit into this show?
There was a fortunate connection because the idea for the Man in the Mirror triptych came over a year ago: I was in the car, near the intersection, and, glancing under the traffic light, I noticed the inverted images projected on the visors. It was lucky because this phenomenon is visible only for a few hours a day and only with shiny visors! In Milan, due to hydrocarbons, the visors become quite opaque, losing this effect. When the #DISCONNECTED theme was presented, the project element clicked. Social media, but really the entire online world, are today’s “Snow White mirrors,” where we seek reassurance that we are perfect—youthful, alluring, and flawless.
What are your plans for the coming months?
In November, I will present a new visual project at Paratissima, which concludes with the Man in the Mirror triptych. Apart from the triptych, all the traffic lights are red. The project is called Un-Perfect and tells the story of emotions that make us feel inadequate. In the past, in small towns, everyone knew who had “holes in their pockets,” who spent too much time at the bar, who was too “charming” with the ladies. These character imperfections are actually part of the whole person. With this project, the little traffic light figures show their imperfections and invite us, if possible, to make peace with our own. Because this pursuit of perfection weighs us down in daily life. Un-Perfect, on display at Paratissima, will also feature an interactive installation with the audience, on which I’m currently working. This is my most immediate project. In December, there will be another important moment: the presentation of my works in the CAM Modern Art Catalog (ex Bolaffi) by Cairo Editore.
Info:
#DISCONNECTED/Group Exhibition
Hub/Art
Carrer del Dr. Trueta, 183, at Interface Iberica, 08005, Barcelona
21/09/2024 – 31/09/2024
Visits by appointment: hello@hub-art.org
https://hub-art.org/disconnected
matteocervone.it
Art consultant and curator focused on modern and contemporary art. Trained in law and Master in Art Market Management, she has founded the Hub/Art exhibition space in Milan in 2017. She currently lives between Milan and Paris where she collaborates with galleries and spaces dedicated to contemporary art.
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