Thick, swift lines intertwining that look like getting lost, they slip away from her hand, they meet in a point somewhere else, and then, being lean, they knot together in wide spaces that are painted in by light colours, which fade out as they were washed away by time. The incised mark fits on the material, as it is burnished with oxides coming from past winters, tells the story behind the sharp look of the ceramicist Laura Scopa.
Laura draws her journey among the world’s things on slabs that unfold like photographic films and fold up like paper stored in boxes. Casting a quick look right up in the sky, which goes beyond the roofs of every city, thoughts getting lost as the landscape shifts over and over outside the train window, and having a solitary green walk surrounded by the hills: every one of us can live a moment like that. The hand of the artist captures and exposes this moment with a poetics that makes her see through material.