I launched this collaborative project in early 2020 in response to the ‘stay-at-home’ orders across the country.
Visual-Conversation is a format for soundless dialog, an expression of both self and solidarity. This way of communicating relies on inferences and cues provided by the other.
Our eyes travel over the surface of photographic based images and light up new places in our minds.
A call and response between paired artists, often unknown to each other, inviting introspective pathways into their own works as fueled by the most recent image posted.
We are listening visually before we “speak” in pictorial response.
I invite you to visit the web site to view all the artist collaborations:
How do we define identity? Personality? Attraction? We classify people we meet on a small set of fairly universal parameters: age, gender, ethnicity, religious affiliation, origin, etc. Yet true connections come from a deeper almost subliminal level, often obscured by value judgements based on the above mentioned parameters.
This installation inverted the process of discovery of 'strangers' by removing all external references and indicators and only showing larger than life close-up images of eyes of a wide diversity of people.
Each group of eyes is multi-faceted and backlit, confronting participants with multiple giant staring eyes in every direction, day and night.
Art installation at 2013 Burning Man: 4 pieces, 16 pairs of eyes,retro-lit, solar powered, with individual notepads for participants comments and reactions.
Nicolò Sertorio - concept & photography
Diana Martinez - drawings & notebooks
Jean-francois Gauthier & Joe Mayo - engineering & electrical
Selected participants comments:
Can you see yourself in me? Yes. I see myself in your eyes. I see the innocence that is on the verge of being lost. I see the questions, moving. ... Or having my future be one in which it took every ounce of energy and self preservation I could muster to break free from the hurt of religion, child rape and to grow as my own person, no longer shattered, but whole.
What do you believe in? I believe in making it a little better than I found it.
What do we share in common? A hundred thousand words are flowers in the sky. A single mind and body, moonlight on the water. Once the cunning ends and information stops, at that moment there is no place for thought.
Where do you think I come from? We are all the universe experiencing itself. We are within the universe. The universe is within us.
Do I match your expectations? It is hard to have expectations for people. Better to have goals for the type of people you want to be surrounded by. Then you manifest your own destiny.
Would knowing my job change your impression of me? I wanted to be a mortician when I was 15 years old & had a death & dying class in highschool. My brother killed himself a few months after the class & was embalmed on the table I saw on the tour of the funeral home. I am now a psychologist instead. And I bow to your dear heart! Thank you for your work and light in the world.
What do you see in my eyes? Love of a mother who is afraid to have failed.
Why did you choose me? I was looking for someone with an interesting question.
Am I a stranger, or am I a friend? A friend who has had his ups and downs. A friend with very intriguing eyes. A friend none-the-less.
Do I matter to you? En tus ojos estan mis alas, está la orilla donde me ahogo.
Would we be friends? I see your fury, I see your frustration, I see your vision, I see camaraderie, I see blood, I see tears.
Do I look fearful, or do I inspire fear? Neither. You look like you are looking for something that is too close to see.
Do you search for yourself in others? Yes. And I search (and find) all of them in me. That way I release the negative feelings by seeing that anything I react to in them is also in me. Since my right forearm is a part of me and I never get upset with it, then when I realize you are in me as a different perspective, I can’t get upset with you.
Does age really matter? Age only matters if the time and years have not been enjoyed, dreams have not been sought, adventures have not been had, connections not made, and knowledge not sought.
What do you see in me? I see vulnerability, I see change, I see resolution, I see separation, I see truth, I see unraveling what it means to be human.
What do you feel I am thinking? The sudden realization that you don’t even know you... And that no one will ever know everything you thought and felt and did and said. And that even if you could remember, and write it all down, you don’t have the time. And no one would care anyway.
Phoenix Lewis (2, male, white, no religion, from USA)
Mindy Rodman (56, female, artist, caucasian, no religion, from USA)
Robert Adler (male, 66, photographer, caucasian, jewish, from USA)
Smudge (22, female, massage therapist, latin american, 'ecclectisisisist', from USA)
Molly Deloria (female, 23, student, white, atheist, from USA)
Mikaela Meredith (female, 26, mortician, agnostic, from USA)
Ruby Tuesday (female, 30, server - nursing student - educator, white, agnostic/spiritual, from USA)
Seonok Lee (female, 46, scientist, asian, agnostic, from South Korea)
Brady Forrest (male, 39, techie, caucasian, atheist, from USA)
Joe Mayo (male, 37, engineer, caucasian, jewishj, from USA)
Jean-Francois Gauthier (male, 44, executive gigolo, french canadian, anti-religion, from Canada)
J Michael Tucker (male, 45, photographer, white guy, spiritual beyond, from USA)
Christina Robinson (female, 51, dating relationship advisor, brazilian mutt, catholic, from Brazil)
Paul White (male, 59, artist, caucasian, no religion, from USA)
Holly Greenberg (female, 42, psychotherapist, american mutt, listening, from USA)
Ouja (male, 51, engineer, caucasian, quaker, from USA)
Installation close to the (burning) man
Installation from a distance
Installation at night
Installation at night
Three eyes is a collaborative group of artists, who combine their own artistic mediums into a modality that has its own synergistic presence.
Nicolo Sertorio uses his photographic eye revealing the emotional beauty of abstracted natural landscapes.
Elaine Toland uses her painter's eye creating an orchestration of abstracted paint to re-interpret the feelings and memories evoked by Nicolo's image.
Seonok Lee uses her poetic eye, creating a poem, using Korean calligraphy, inspired by the combined image.
The collaborative creative process by these three artists results in an image that matures into its own life force.
Pieces are one-off stretched canvas mixed media 60" wide by 30" high.
Translation of poem:
Dream
Submerged in smoke
Like flames
Spewing fiery blood red and blue blossoms.
It is nothing but my passion,
A shadow of my own dreams.
Illusion
In the agony of suffocating flames
A sudden throb of my heart
It is nothing but my own illusion
With ever deeper passion
I want to live
I want to lead
A fiery life.
Translation of poem:
In the midst of blue waters
Suddenly, threads of red glimmer
Provoke nostalgia
In one’s heart.
Sold
Translation of poem:
Alas,
Sun is setting
in the western sky,
above the lonely river,
leaning into the hue of pink
Ah,
when the Sun goes down
when the Sun goes down
there comes the night
weeping alone
in the shade of an apricot tree
today, a fine day in April
when cheerful sound of people bustling about
floods the street
why does the unbearable stream of tears
run alone
in the depth of my heart in silence
Sold
Sold
Sold
Translation of (partial) poem:
My love for you
Ever enduring
The sunset before the storm
White clouds floating in blue
In the midst of a fiery red sky
...
Translation of poem:
Ah, the day is waning, in the western sky, over the lonely river, the even pinkish glow is fading…ah,
when the sun sets, when the sun sets, night will return without fail.
I weep alone beneath an apricot tree, but today is the eighth of April,
and the sound of a crowd flooding the boulevard betokens festivities to come,
so why am I the only one unable to stifle the tears welling up in my heart?
Ah, it’s dancing, it’s dancing, the blood red flame, it’s dancing.
Peering down from the hushed castle gate,
the odor of water, the odor of sand,
when the torch, biting the night, biting the sky,
as if still hungering, bites and tears at its own flesh,
a solitary youth weighted with a darkened heart hurls his blue dream of yesterday into the river,
yet will the heartless waves suspend its shadow in the flow?
SOLD
Translation of poem:
If I catch the carpet of cloud
the sheet of blood red cloud
the mountain of pitch-black cloud in the dark
I will fly far away across the vast sky
+1-650-430.3268, Nicolo@NicoloSertorio.com