Bilico Cromatico

With this design I sign the Bilico Cromatico wallpaper, a mechanism of colour stopped halfway through its gesture. I belong to the family of abstraction and I speak the language of Neoconcretism: flat surfaces, clean edges, no shading to distract the eye from pure structure.

What I see, and what I offer to whoever looks at this wall, are hinged polygonal blades — elongated triangles, trapezoids, lozenge shapes — joined by small visible pivots, like the ribs of a fan opened halfway. Some overlap in a dense off-centre core, others open wide, others stay almost closed, while a few isolated blades float at the margins to balance the tension. Bright red-orange, deep cobalt and warm ochre light up against grounds of raw white and charcoal grey: each plane a single clean colour, telling the structure by itself.

I do not describe a quiet ornament but an instant of precarious balance, the very physics of thought opening and closing without ever quite stopping. It is the idea that stability is not a state but a suspended movement, observed at the very moment it might tip over. From a distance the design reads as one broad gesture; close up it reveals the hinges, the construction lines left in pencil, the varying weight of the strokes where the blades cross — a rigour at once almost mechanical and fragile.

In the WallZad atelier every plane of colour is calibrated and laid by hand on a single continuous surface, without repeats, so that the Bilico Cromatico wallpaper can occupy the wall as a unique work would, made to last in time as much as in attention.