I think it was Moravia who said that he would rather be a painter than a man of letters and that shapes and colours are preferable to struggling with words. Personally, I am neither a painter nor a man of letters, and I am not sure that I agree.

But it is on shapes and colours I would like to dwell. Using words to describe them, as one would expect, and to say that the latest direction taken by TH. is a natural abstractism. My initial thought is that I would like to contrast it with different explanations and plausible concepts, but I guess that I am not in the mood for that. Really, I think it is better to look at this selection of paintings like as if looking at the formation of crystals or at a microscope enlargement. These can certainly have scientific, rational or conceptual explanations but they are primarily and rightfully beautiful in a childlike way.

We choose what to wear without necessarily thinking who designed the garment in question, or how it was made, but instead looking for some aesthetic requisites. I believe that we should look at contemporary art using the same parameters, that is, without learning first who the artist is and what the artwork represents. If the garment ultimately has the purpose of making us look wealthy or feeling younger, slimmer, more stylish and original, we take an interest in it only if we like it. What do I care if the designer’s aim was to pay homage to another designer? If I do not like the result it is only after having observed the product with my eyes that I would want to know about its background. Without filling up the mere object with words.

The abstractism of these works does not depict reality in a recognisable manner, but creates a separate reality that integrates itself with the surrounding one. Just like in the real world juxtapositions of shapes and colours can create either beauty, lyricism or dissonance. The world made up of shapes and colours. This is what one has to take in, without looking much further. The use of pastels creates a sticky softness that reminds me every time of fur, to stay in the realm of nature, of the spots that my cat has on his coat, or of the reflexes on his shiny fur. It makes me think about how superfluous it is to add meanings to a thing that is in itself sufficient and should hence be left as it is and just admired or maybe touched. And my poor cat is just black and white without any dash of bright colours like the ones used in these artworks. Up until now I have however never held this against him. The bright and metallic colours are a bit remindful of graffiti art but immediately set themselves apart from it because of the material, a degradable pastel, and the surface, classic canvas.

The depicted subjects change according to the eye of the observer and evoke the colours of the plumage of the most wonderful birds of paradise. They show off only for survival and are thus aesthetes without a purpose, except for the vile and noble aim of reproduction. The courtship ritual of these birds perfectly exemplifies the battle of shapes and colours, which become abstract for worldly and necessary purposes.

In the same way the Thaumoctopus Mimicus, the mimic octopus, is able to quickly change form, colour and behaviour and can thus avoid becoming a prey. It changes while keeping its identity intact, unknowing that it is a spectacle for those who observe it with the purpose of catching a glimpse of its strange and natural beauty. We love to gaze at fishes that look like rocks, octopuses in the shape of sponges, birds in the form of flowers and insects that can be mistaken for branches simply because we like to know if we can identify the actual object (or animal) of observation and recognise it for what it is.

It is possible to discern the realism of what is represented, always keeping in mind that nature is invariably more abstract than art. What I would like people to see in TH.’s works is merely this. The forms and colours he chooses change from time to time, from canvas to canvas, yet, despite being ever changing, they maintain clearly visible common features. It would be great to think that he does this following his instincts, out of necessity, because he can do it and it comes natural to him. In each painting we can observe the movement of his thought; the process that leads him to erase the shapes that remain trapped under other shapes and that reveal echoes and paths of his mind.

I know TH. personally and I know, in depth, about his artistic journey. Looking at his professional experiences and his collaborations, basically looking at the combination of his CV and his personal interests, it is easy to imagine the genesis of his latest works. But I do not want to dwell on the description of the artist in association with certain experiences while omitting others in order to underline how his career as a graphic designer might have played a particular role in his development. Or whether his studying in a city and with whom or his provenance from a specific area might have played another one.

I refer all of these questions to a short biographic note, whose purpose it is to satisfy a free and natural curiosity, but which should not damage or tarnish with details what is already expressed on the canvasses.

It seems clear that when Moravia stated his preference for painters over men of letters he did not take the professional journey of the artist into account. The latter is not the easiest of topics, given the heterogeneity of paths that lead artists to define themselves as such and which include trends, avantgardes, art schools, mannerisms and contestations. This is however true for both painters and men of letters.

The processes that move a street artist are not the same ones that inspire an academic. Yet, there is the same split between the individual’s artistic and real life. In respect to these paintings, the time spent in the studio is measured by the dust of the pastels that settles on the floor and that TH. gathers. Dust, scraps, dirt are both pleasing to the eye and significant to collect. They are the direct link between the paintings and the man who paints, residuals that do not make it into the painting, that part from it against their wishes and which stay there, confused and static, shapeless except for the shape of the actual work, of the real action.

„Remember that a painting – before being a battle horse, a nude woman, or an anecdote of some sort – is essentially a flat surface covered with colours, put together in a certain order“
Maurice Denis, 1890

Claudia A. Sarti Translated by Alice Riegler