Barbara Fragogna. A Collective Solo Show

“No metamorphosis without autophagy­­­” –Henri Michaux  
“Most people states with no doubt or hesitation that Fragogna is a “visual” artist, a painter linked to the figure and the shape, an introspective artist, organic and organized, visceral and material, one of those artists that take you to the neck and force you to look at, to see beyond, to deepen the sensory and sensual level of her work. And most people would be right. Because this is the Fragogna we know: the paintings of lush and glowing baroque bodies that open into a dialogue between symbol and color. Mouths that are struggling an untraslatable communication, intestines twisted as vital nooses. The drawings that unroll into filaments without end as if to declare the futility of the point, the conclusion, the peremptory statement. The ephemeral sculptures, intestinal flora and interiors exposed as rational gardens, competent of the inconsistency of time and memory, ruins in aesthetics decaying.  
This aspect, this architectural portion of Fragogna that I would presume to classify here metaphorically as “the stage of the Gogna/Pillory” communicates to us the existential malaise that grips the sensitivity of the artist from a very young age for grace or disgrace of her literary references: from Greek tragedies to the German Romanticism, from the italian scapigliatura to French Enlightenment through the stinking alleys of Victorian decadence and then has matured over the years of her educational philosophy and sophistry.
 
But there is another face of the multiple Fragogna that would give reason to the more or less certain people that would call her  “an artist of concept/ a conceptual artist,” a theorist, a Kosuthian. A less known face, a side remained until now in the shadow, a portion of the dark that in this libercolo we would finally bring to light.”
From Nest Of Dust, B.F. 2013 

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