Silvia Levenson

Galleria Maria Cilena arte contemporanea, Milan
Through June 22

The visitors’ first impression to the exhibition …, piccolo tesoro is that they have come across the reconstruction of a nursery school playground: there are multicolored stickers on the windows of the gallery, and inside, we see small chairs placed in a circle, playground equipment, and baby outfits.

Almost immediately, however, the installation Plaza de Mayo, which contradicts the serenity of the scene, grabs our attention: on the ground, besides a bag made of glass (a material that she uses in all her works) Levenson has placed a blown-up black-and-white photo of herself as a child with her sister. The image was broken up into tiles and recomposed, denoting a fragmentary memory, while numerous glass knives, hanging over like the Sword of Damocles, illustrate the precarious nature of the safety of childhood.

Keen observation of the other works, also reveals the strong contradictions between appearance and reality. In Fuga di Massa, the little chairs in a circle seem to bet set up for a group game, but the children have abandoned them, leaving in their tracks only glass slippers of various colors, some of which have a nail sticking out, like a kind of betrayal.

In Moi et Toi, two swings are hanging, facing each other, from the same supporting structure, thus making it impossible to use them without crashing into one another. On the seats, the words "moi" and "toi" point to a strict set of rules for playing on the swings, most likely arrived at after a long negotiation, while the coexistence in each swing of fragile materials (glass or plastic) and those that can withstand impact (metal) means that during the inevitable crash one of the participants will fall, though it is impossible to say which one.

The piece Sube y baja, which means see-saw, cannot be used in its present state either: in order for it to work it needs two children who interact in this balancing game, but the presence of only one pair of shoes suggests that the child who would like to use it is waiting, in vain, for a playmate.

The only installation without a disturbing undertone is è nato un piccolo tesoro, which shows the a newborn’s layette, in all its various colors, fashioned in glass and hung on a wall. The work seems to suggest that the only real moment of peace and serenity is when, as a newborn, one is at the center of the universe, and there are no frustrating or dangerous confrontations with “the other.”




Paola Colombo
translation by Jacqueline Smith