“My activities are regulated by new rhythms that prevent me from planning with precision or envisioning predetermined durations. Since I am compelled to proceed more slowly, the time commitment required becomes unpredictable and must be recalibrated each time so that an idea may encounter its function, so that the pen may begin to flow, or in order to find a way out.

Through the works on display, I observe myself within the uncertainty produced by today’s global context, moving at a pace ill-suited to sustain it. Slowing down. Acceleration. Rethinking. Slowness. Waiting. Procrastination. Pausing, resuming — a non-linear form of practice. Twice the time.”

Italo Zuffi, November 2025

The expression I ghirigori dello spirito (2025) comes from a series of recent short writings by Zuffi, conceived under the influence of a concern regarding pollution, which progressively permeates our living environment. The original text is here accompanied by a constellation of variants, each differing by a single word: the adjective that attributes a psychological quality to the microscopic, alien presences that infiltrate our body. The writing opens, on one hand, a labyrinth of possibilities, a field of choices multiplying around the same structure; on the other hand, it transfigures the tiny actors that colonize us — microplastics — into potentially sentient beings. It is in this oscillation between language and matter, between invention and concrete threat, that this work takes shape, making visible the unsettling intimacy of the relationship between the human body and contamination.

This theme is also explored in Spuntino (2025), a work that reflects on the state of collective addiction: a kind of surrender of self-protection and the acceptance of contamination as an irreversible condition, ultimately seen as a collateral effect of our lifestyle and its indispensable comforts. The terracotta still lifes display an edible base surmounted by small objects that our bodies cannot assimilate. In this forced encounter, the gradual alteration of the concept of “natural” becomes apparent, progressively replaced by that of “habitual.”

Cibofreccia (2025) originates from the graphic translation of a series of signs photographed by the artist during car journeys. These signals indicate the presence of food, often accompanied by an arrow pointing to a location beyond the field of view, just off the road or around a bend. The invitation to stop and procure sustenance becomes a minimal gesture, yet one laden with implications: a promise of immediate gratification that exists between orientation, desire, and consumption, suspended within the space of a journey.

In Dutch Army ranks (Duo) (2025), the starting point is the distance separating two military personnel of different ranks — the symbolic and tangible measure that defines the act of standing alongside or approaching a superior. The work takes shape from the role of the Dutch army in the Srebrenica genocide of 1995 and the responsibilities embedded within hierarchical dynamics. Formally, the works are sculptural interpretations of that army’s insignia, paired in a stark comparison between non-equivalent positions. In the military context, chains of command are made visible precisely through the insignia worn on uniforms: immediately legible markers that determine who give and who carries out orders, rigidly structuring the hierarchy of roles.

Similarly, the sculptural group Clava-torce (2025) evokes a tone charged with tension through the compact arrangement of its elements, reminiscent of an inverted wedge formation. The club, a primordial object imbued with archetypal memory and strength, is placed in dialogue with a series of electric torches that appear to be grafted onto its body or to emerge from it. Like sprouts of light, these technological appendages evoke human ingenuity, marking the transition from an archaic survival tool to a hybrid form in which deep past and progress intersect.

The video Prada water supplies (2024–2025), shot from a low vantage point, collects footage filmed by the artist during a visit to Pino Pascali’s exhibition at the Fondazione Prada in Milano in August 2024, days marked by a constant alert for extreme temperatures. “Stay well hydrated” was the mantra repeated by the news kept repeating, almost an obligatory backdrop to the summer. The spaces of the foundation appear as a locus of artistic concentration, yet, sequence by sequence, it becomes clear that the camera’s purpose is not to document the exhibition. Rather, it moves in search of the small water supplies hidden near the security staff: water and art reserves thus coexist in the same space, both bearing witness to the necessity of preservation.

Italo Zuffi was born in Imola in 1969. He lives and works in Milan.


Image: Italo Zuffi, Prada water supplies, 2025, video (still from video)