Paolo Massei: “I speak with iron and play with fire.”

A chat about art with Paolo Massei, the sculptor who works in Bevagna. I met him in his studio to observe his works and materials: “I’ve also exhibited onions and bread, and I also work with ceramic, stone, aluminum, marble, and bronze, of course.”

Paolo Massei was born in Bevagna in 1954. He has long hair tied in a ponytail, a characteristic of those who thrive on freedom, style, and creativity. He began his working experience at the age of 8 in an iron workshop where his father had sent him to learn the trade. It was the workshop that would forever become his space, his passion, and his energy. Some in the village still call him blacksmith, barely concealing a feeling of resentment or to mitigate a sense of frustration arising from comparison.
He has collaborated with artists such as Ettore Colla, the Swiss Paul Wiedmer, the American Solomon Le Witt, known as Sol, Agapito Miniucchi, Bruno Ceccobelli, and T. Haynes.
Among his most notable solo exhibitions are: Me and My Friend Fire, Ontario, Canada, Paolo Massei Steinon Gallery, Antwerp; Thus I Am, Gaspar Gallery, Piran, Slovenia; In Time with Time, Villa Fidelia, Spello; Signs, Traces, and Dreams, National Museum of Jasi, Romania. He has had numerous public works: Vunya, Ostia; Vallucciole Iron and Fire, Stia; The Sirens of the Lake, Tuoro sul Trasimeno; Sign in the Air, Wellington, New Zealand; To the Dead of Nassrya, Bettona; and the more recent The Unbearable Lightness of Iron, Mugnano (PG); Omphalos, Bevagna; Archè The Principle of Reality, Rome. He was the creator and curator of the Castelbuono Sculpture Park (Bevagna).

I met him at his studio, on Vicolo Porta Molini in Bevagna, to observe his works and materials, paying attention to the details and the way they were created. A genuine dialogue immediately arose, and so I let the conversation flow naturally, exchanging ideas about vocation, freedom, abstraction, symbolism, ideas, concepts, and torments. He likes to define himself as a “humble servant of matter,” and one of his favorite slogans is: “What others discard becomes the material from which to create.”

How did you discover your calling for sculpture?
In the workshop, I already had a certain predisposition. The calling, the desire, and the profound inclination toward sculpture were probably hidden, or rather, hadn’t yet been explored. But there were two events in the 1960s that for me, then a teenager with a thousand hopes, represented a turning point. At 13, I visited an exhibition in Foligno and met Ettore Colla, a leading painter and sculptor of Italian abstract art. I was deeply impressed by his way of finding scrap pieces and assembling them abstractly to create a work of art. Then, the opportunity to experience the art of David Smith, Alexander Calder, and Beverly Pepper, protagonists of the open-air exhibition/installation in Spoleto years before, gave me the certainty that I was about to embark on my own artistic journey.

What materials do you use?
I speak to iron and play with fire, although all materials are suited to my work. I’ve also exhibited onions and bread, not disdaining ceramic, stone, aluminum, marble, and, of course, bronze. Every manual movement, every tool I use, is like an extension of my arms, my hands, broken many times. For me, forging iron goes beyond manual labor with a sense of dedication; above all, it evokes transformation and passion.

How does your creative process unfold?
My work begins with the search for a valid idea, and to find it I have to read, research, inform myself, stay up-to-date, and visit exhibitions. Once I find a broad, creative idea and a concept that can be defined and abstract, I begin experimenting and seeing if it works. Finally, the realization. I am a sculptor, and to fill the void (my soul) I must fill a part of the space by creating a form.

How did your creative process evolve?
In the early stages, I was a protagonist of abstract art, thanks also to the influence of Ettore Colla, later moving on to symbolism and then returning to abstract art in its various forms, with a preference for geometry.

At this point, we paused to discuss freedom when Paolo Massei emphasized: “For me, art has the task of capturing and highlighting only those poetic forms, even if dramatic, that communicate, stir emotion, and lead to indefinite, happy freedom.” It emerged that the relationship between sculpture and freedom is profound and complex. Sculpture is an expression of creative freedom, as the sculptor has the ability to shape and mold the material according to his vision and inspiration. Furthermore, sculpture can be used to represent freedom in a more abstract sense, as a philosophical concept. I would say that in Massei’s case, sculpture and freedom are complementary and linked by a relationship of mutual influence. Sculpture is freedom, and it manifests itself through his work. In Paolo Massei, there is freedom of action and expression, the freedom to experiment and innovate, the freedom to create works that invite reflection, the freedom to refuse a commission if it doesn’t adhere to his canons.
I see in him a lot of the Wanderer of German Romanticism. Here, those who follow a path aren’t simply heading toward something physically identifiable, toward a real, tangible place (in his case, sculpture); on the contrary, they are spiritual protagonists, beings searching for themselves, or rather, for the indefinable, rejecting social conventions.

In your exhibitions, you often talk about grieving. What exactly do you mean?
Art is suffering, research is suffering, and grieving is part of all those questions that lead the artist to that inner torment that will lead him, through an accumulation of ideas, to study and create his own work in solitude. Torment is my inseparable friend; without it, I would not have gotten where I am. Grieving never ends; it continually feeds itself. From the moment I find inspiration, through imagination or vision, to the moment I finish my work, grieving is a constant that inexplicably also transfers to the idea and concept of the next work I will create.

This passage reminded me of Dante and the “afflicted” souls in the Divine Comedy, those damned in Hell, and those penitent in Purgatory. In his case, it is not guilty sadness that condemns itself, but rather a just pain that purifies and redeems. In Purgatory, in fact, sadness and torment have a positive, purifying function linked to the hope of salvation, and in Paolo Massei too, torment, even if unwanted and unsought, is a just pain, useful for his journey as an artist.

How do you overcome creative block and negative feedback?
They are two important aspects of my work and, I’d even say, necessary. Creative block is a temporary and frustrating lack of ideas, inspiration, and energy that affects all artists. Personally, I don’t sit in a corner waiting for inspiration; I don’t stop; I keep creating and, through suffering and experimentation, I try to overcome it. I accept negative feedback; it’s a stimulus to explain my thinking. It can lead to a discussion that can ultimately change the viewer’s mind, or even change my own mind. But to be effective, it must be constructive, specific, and focused on the work and not the person; otherwise, it’s simply ignorance.

In conclusion, what is art for you?
Art is soul, spirituality, and life, and it’s important to understand the material, to be in tune with it, so as to be able to push it and penetrate beyond its natural constructive potential. Art isn’t just made, it’s experienced, and experiencing art means research. Research must not only be directed at the work, but above all at the self, at the construction of oneself. Furthermore, the success of an artist’s work isn’t the message it conveys—in reality, in my case, there isn’t one—but rather the ability to make the viewer experience a series of emotions, disturbances, and excitements. The viewer must experience the emotion of the form, elaborate the work, and construct it in their mind. Therefore, if the recipient is ignited by the emotion of imagination and the message born from their observation is appropriated, the work has been successful.