Giova, by introducing reflection on two works created specifically for the liturgy, clear the field of the reductionist risk of certain imposed functionality. Religious Positivism, we could define it, which asserts art to the production of objects functional to liturgical action, subtracting its specific, freedom from any contingency. Paradox of a religiosity that while claiming for itself the vocation to grace does not guarantee it to art, which, however, is free by statute. Giuliani's art, even before yielding to the lures of the ecclesiastical commission, had become familiar to the themes of the sacred - The Temple (1990-1991), Sacred Heart (1991), L'eremo (1993), Ostia (1994) -1995), Ambone (1994-1996), Apocalypse (1998), Baptismal font (1998), Porta (2000) - connatural to the artist's inspiration and to the subject matter. From this inspiration move our works, the first of which comes from a troubled path to which sufferings have acquired the ultimate form. Era Altare (1998) already at the eighth Biennale of sacred art of San Gabriele (Teramo), different from the current one. Then the solidity of the character emerged, though light and wise at the same time because of its many paths.
The geometries of the eight secant lines made a mass of not many quintals dynamic and light. The lid, rotated with respect to the axis of the large box, contributed to create two volumes, one real and the other potential, which intersected: the first, the second filled. The rotation opened further perspective: altar and sepulcher; in fact the upper stone did not close, instead it proposed itself for a becoming, a new construction to which it was supported. There was nothing inside the big cube: the dead man had risen and the sheet on the front meant it. In the void the imprints of the sacrifice: the picks had marked the suffering; the inside of the walls still preserved, in the signs traced by the chisel, the echo of the wounds of the body received. Perhaps alludes to the perennial incompleteness of our emptiness. Of course that recess was stained with provisionality and suffering, stay there to tell us the inside always be a bit 'torn. The sheet, moved, broke the perfect geometries of the building on the outside, both in the cuts rotated to its passage, and along the wall to which the movement made the facade dramatic, almost the sheet had transferred the folds of the bruised body into the stone that came up. Silence and secrecy responded to the farewell: they had always been there, custodians of life and death, of memory and of the future.
The secrecy of the quarry, further subtraction and the patience of the years as a sock have overturned it, a kind of conversion of the altar that I allowed to see, the Giuliani, just finished: the original empty tomb is back upside down, although the bandages are placed inside to contest Magdalena because the Lord did not steal it. Straightened, brushstrokes of light on the outside let spy the tendons of a body, plots intertwine to say how complex the events of the sky run like those of the earth. Maze of the path is sensed, a network whose fears and uncertainties do not free those who cross it from capture. And yet lightness moves from those threads that pull the skin, thin and painful. And silence, composed in the lively cut of the corners, pride of someone who knows how to hold up the story and lets you caress to taste the sumptuous and sensual life that moves from there. If travertine and lightness pertain to the poetic, of Giuliani, of swollen symbolic suggestions, the paradox applied to the box (see the deaf box of Beuys) had already been experimented in the Tub (1994-1996), empty coffin, surprised in its ambiguity by median caesura that the cross on the vertical plane: dividing it making it inadequate to the function for which perhaps it had been built. Empty, it is available to another - house, lavacro, drinker - while the subtlety, which is forced travertine, makes the destination ambiguous: it is difficult to renounce death among humans.
There the box had been treated together with the theme of water, dear to the artist - Barca (1990), La vela (1991), Fonte (1992), L'onda (1992) - confirms Battistero (1994), the other work of which I have been asked to write. Ample, the basin, welcoming, to contain the dreams of young mothers who approach it. The curve that draws it is sweet because the poem offers cathartic possibilities like water and the tenderness of the content translates into the softness of the rounded lines at the edge of the container; movement that can be caressed, as delicate as the skin of the child who is led to the wash. Mentova tragedy, however, the different materials, the mutilation of some parts, and especially the nuanced traits of a cross, on the back wall, raised, swollen and welcoming, painful and sensual breath, presage and light for the future of those who next to it, like the artist, he is invited not to give in to temptation, not to ask the stone to become bread: the hardness of the day and the tribolo that accompanies it constitute the plot of everyday life. As we would like the good God from this stone to bring forth children again, many, no matter whether they are from Abraham or not (cf Lk 3: 8).