Through wide shut eyes, about to enter a day-wake dream brought to me by modern medicine, I encountered a real surreal metaphysical master. One like Giorgio de Chirico (1888 – 1978) who first presented colorful metaphysical images with sharp contrasts of light and shadow, often depicting desolated Italian squares containing objects and figures in a dreamlike scene of that ‘which cannot be seen’. Or like the subsequent surrealists juxtaposing objects out of normal context in distant subconscious relation;
denying submission to the bourgeois order, as their founder André Breton (1896 – 1966) once said: “It was in the black mirror of anarchism that surrealism first recognized itself”. Maybe even like the composer Edgar Varèse (1883 – 1965) in symphonic music and certainly like the world-famous eccentric, “There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad”, Salvador Dali (1904 – 1989) and also somewhat like its most seemingly bourgeois counterpart, the “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” painter René Magritte (1898 – 1967). Today, surreal metaphysical master Vincenzo Conciatori, a true artistic son of De Chirico and Dali, continues tradition while simultaneously reaching great heights in the use of modern acrylic paint. Although one sometimes gets the impression that the master has decided to more or less retire, unconsciously he may just be dreaming-up his next great work of art.