A simple verbal discourse quenches the drilling of critical writing. Stumbling into the (basement) studio on Via Piero della Francesca in Milan, and then beyond, was a due consequence. Of curiosity, of necessity, of the mini(maxi) common passion. Following the footsteps left by the brushes, a panorama opened up (here circumscribed to five) composed of individual but friendly topographies; where qualities blandly intertwine, and mistakes too. Each brings his own way, more or less green or mature, more or less imaginative or symbolic or classical or romantic or baroque or pop or whatever. Immured in the drowse of dawns poised for the near future.

Mario Dellavedova . In the form of a pseudo-introduction.

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