Triptych – left, central, right parts
Canvas 80×100 cm, linen, oil, 2026
Calabria Sentiente
Three times of day. Three states of soul. One land.
The left panel — L’Alba che Ricorda (The Dawn That Remembers). Morning. Calabria still sleeps, yet already breathes with the first light. Antique ruins hover in the morning haze; a horn of plenty bends over the waking earth; a red chili pepper rests at the foot of a column — a talisman, a promise, a drop of blood from which the day will grow. And above the sea, barely traced by light, floats the sanctuary of Tropea — not yet built, but already alive in the thoughts of those who believe this land can turn a dream into stone.
The central panel — Il Respiro della Terra (The Breath of the Earth). Noon. Water becomes light. Two figures — a man and a woman — emerge from the depths, as though the land has decided to take on a face. Above them floats the sign of infinity, woven from gold, and the red pepper, like a water lily, rests upon the surface of the water — passion unfurling its petals at the very heart of the landscape. This is the heart of the triptych, where time stands still and everything breathes in unison.
The right panel — La Guardiana del Tirreno (The Guardian of the Tyrrhenian Sea). Evening. Sunset. The cliff assumes a female form — not a monster, but a protectress. At her waist hangs the red pepper, transforming myth into talisman. The last light of the day spills across the water, dissolving into the horizon, while in the distance, faintly visible, arches a bridge — a symbol of a future not yet built, but already promised.
The triptych Calabria Sentiente is not a landscape. It is a portrait of a land that feels, remembers, and guards. From dawn to dusk, from memory to hope, from ruins to bridge, from a sanctuary floating in dreams to the stone that will one day embody that dream. Each panel carries the same symbol — the red pepper — yet each time it means something different: birth, passion, protection. And through all three canvases runs a single thread of light — quiet, insistent, binding past to future.