Many and varied are the joys of childhood, and prominent among them must be the collecting of bubblegum cards, with or without a corresponding consumption of the gum itself, perhaps best thought of as a kind of chewy, indigestible pink bycatch. When the world and raincoaster were young, it was acceptable to pass the noxious substance off to one’s younger sister, stick it under one’s desk, or indeed, even to toss it out entirely, knowing that the Star Wars Sticker Pack with bonus cards was the true treasure. But in a world of increasingly green outlook, this is obviously no longer acceptable. Given that the thirst for card-collecting has presumably not diminished (I would have gotten a memo, right?) what are we to do with the loathesome, cast-off wads of pink cement?
The sensual act of chewing, the voluptuous warmth of rebelling saliva, the artificial and secretly aseptic fragrance which spreads from the mouth as a promise and missed kiss. The synthetic fleshliness of the pink color, the obsessive square shape of the product unwrapped and ready to be shred to pieces by the power of the tongue, all compete in crashing on the senses. Applying all this to the power and energy of the Sculpture and its history causes a short circuit having the capacity of turning the ludic into stately and vice versa. The strict minimalism of parallelepiped is subverted by the uniform coating with many bars of chewing-gum completely cover it, rendering chewable to desire, soft and provoking to forbidden touch, what was abstract and distant.
Why, yes, that’s just what I was going to say.
Enjoy the strange, sticky delights of Maurizio Savini‘s bubblegum sculptures and, given that the works are apparently selling for decent prices, perhaps use them to inspire the young ‘uns? Never too early to get a head start on art school tuition savings!