Cuneo di Ottobre

I drew Cuneo di Ottobre wallpaper as an act, not as an image: a sharpened wedge, its point reduced to the thinnest of triangles, drives edgewise into a great disc and splits it along the line of impact, so that the two halves shift apart and never align again, leaving a narrow, clean fracture between them. It is the language of constructivism that guides every choice: hard planes with no gradation, thrust lines radiating from the point of impact, fine construction lines and small drawing-board marks — registration crosses, notches like numbers — scattered beside the break, suggesting engineering precision rather than decoration.

The saturated red of the wedge, the black and steel grey of the two halves of the disc, the bone ground: four flat areas of colour, no mediation, because the force had to stay legible from a distance as well as close up, where a thread of bare ground resurfaces along the fault and a fine texture along the edge of the wedge. It is a composition that tells no scene but an applied force, the exact moment when order gives way and reorganises into a new balance — a thought as universal as a square, an office or a hotel lobby, wherever one wants a wall that speaks of controlled energy. In laying out this wallpaper, Cuneo di Ottobre, the WallZad atelier treated every edge as a cut to be respected, not softened: Italian care in the service of a geometry that does not compromise.