15 gennaio 2013
by Mina Mazzini

It is dizzying. Since it is undoubtedly true that one does not paint, write
music, sculpt, or sing with specifi c tools but with the brain, I think could
have easily fallen in love with Renzo Bergamo’s fl aming mind. Actually,
I fall in love with it all the time. Just like I fell in love and continue to
fall in love with Puccini. Or Gadda. Just like I can lose my mind for a
divine musician every time he picks up his instrument. Just like I let go,
though to be honest I fi nd it diffi cult, in front of the explosive force of
great talent. In front of the absolute, expressed by one of our own. By
a human being.
It is dizzying. I saw all of his works together, all of them at once, in a
single day. I barely survived. It was a strange story that led to that – a
story that has to do with Cremona, Venezuela, Milan, Lugano, and a
friendship that had begun many years before.
I met Caterina Arancio Bergamo after what felt like a lifetime – or perhaps
two: hers and mine. She knew everything about me, I didn’t know
anything about her. Now that she is the keeper of all that genius, I enjoy
having the chance to let the emotions that the vision of Renzo’s paintings
trigger, in my brain and in my heart, overwhelm me. I call him by his fi rst
name even though I never met him. Renzo is an explosive device, a bomb
that takes your breath away and forces you to refl ect, think, understand.
And while it is impossible to get inside the head of a true artist, as it is
with many others, every attempt to do so is an elevating exercise. It is
dizzying, stunning, almost bewildering. Something I don’t feel often, but
that I strive to hold on to when I do.