Fabio Lombardi

What type of printing do you prefer?

I prefer fabrics for the lightness and dynamism they bring to my works, the play of light on silk blown by the wind, the impalpability of organza, which lends itself to transformation and transcendence.
I’m also fascinated by the preciousness of aluminum and the rendering of textures and grains of certain fine papers.

What comes first, the idea or the fascination with the material? In other words, does the artistic-photographic project come first, or is it inspired by specific techniques or processes that strike you?

Usually the idea comes first, which then develops into the design of the work in which the techniques, materials and narrative are outlined.

My research has a fundamental matrix that is constantly fueled by external and internal impulses such as nature, philosophy, and sexuality. All of this then takes shape and emerges after a careful study of materials and techniques, so that the final result is as faithful as possible to the original idea.

Do you have any Masters you look up to and feel close to?

In reality, I feel influenced by artistic movements rather than by individual artists. When I talk about my works, I always say that they are the illegitimate offspring of Baroque art and Viennese Actionism, and sisters of Symbolism.

If I had to choose a title for an exhibition that could represent your works, it would be: “From the Viscera to Above the Self.”
Finely crafted papers, drapes convoluted into celestial shapes, silvery images of bodies twisted in corybantic poses are depicted with the elegance of Gustave Doré, or at times they are closed and curled up, portrayed in pencil, and they present themselves calmly, sharing the space with photographs
of offal and guts, blood and organs: theatrical video clips recall Hermann Nitsch’s performances ‘Theatre of Orgies and Mysteries’ (1962-1998).
In your works, however, violence is decoded a posteriori; it is not the first component to reach our eyes, but is preceded by an exquisite Michelangelo-esque aesthetic formalism straight out of an art history textbook;
The bodies, alone or in groups, are always immersed in a desolate silence. We see the screams and moans, but we don’t hear them, as if the content of your images were destined to be perceived only by the most refined of senses (sight).
We therefore have before us not brutal and carnal violence, but the Sublime that it generates.
An idea of ​​violence, an idea of ​​the body, an idea of ​​a blood clot: from monsters to Gods.

You recently exhibited in the group show Amore Mio, Artisti Millennial 2025, at the Mo.Ca in Brescia. Could you describe the works you brought to the exhibition and how they interact with each other?

In my works, decadence, eroticism, and violence come to life through careful formal and technical study. My goal is to delve into these themes while simultaneously glorifying and aestheticizing them. For me, the highest form of seduction is disturbance, so I draw the viewer in with mannerisms, elegance, and the art of the sublime, allowing dark and uncomfortable themes to take root and insinuate themselves into the viewer’s mind.
Thus, rotting bodies, orgiastic scenes, death, and decay become an aesthetic matrix.
Given your beautiful description of my works, and the parallels you’ve evoked, I must deduce that my technique works!

The selection of works for the “Amore Mio” exhibition stems from the concept that death, as defined and conceived by humans, does not exist in nature; only transformation exists. Consequently, decay is not simply a phase of consumption but a process, the final ritual that nature celebrates to sublimate matter.
Basing the exhibition on the dictates of the alchemical “Great Work,” the three primary hues (Nigredo, Albedo, and Rubedo) manifest themselves in the materials, emerging from metal, shaping organza, and crumbling paper.
As in nature, the alchemical work has transformation as its ultimate goal.
Thus, in the exhibited works, we find metals that unravel until they rise and transform into fabrics, digital works that simulate the pictorial quality of a painting, paper that frays to simulate moldy formations.
Thus, multimedia and materiality become the theater of sublimation.

Future projects?

In July, I’ll be participating in a group exhibition called “Vanitas,” which will take place in a historic villa on Lake Como.
My focus remains on the development and evolution of my research, which is why I have many works in progress, new ones in the pipeline, and every day is spent studying and constantly experimenting.