Scheggia Verticale

I sign the Scheggia Verticale wallpaper thinking of the exact moment when the body finds the rock and the rock answers. A climber is wedged sideways in a wall of angular rocks: one arm pushed above the head into a crack, the knee planted against a jutting face, the torso twisted between two diagonal planes of stone that split the whole scene into triangles and shards with clean edges. It is the language of Second Futurism, given here in its authentic screen-print matter: every rock face and every part of the body is a flat, decisive colour, cut by an edge drawn with a ruler where the planes meet, the movement rendered not with blur but with repeated diagonal lines, like bursts of speed.

Close up you find the fields of halftone marking the faces in shadow and the weave of the jacket, the fine hatching along the fractures, and the odd slight misregistration of ink where two plates did not overlap perfectly: real traces of a press, not a digital effect. Warm terracotta, dusty ochre, slate grey and a single cobalt accent on the equipment build a palette of four inks, never blended, never confused with each other.

The figure, slightly off centre, stays legible from every corner of the room, while the rock shards radiate to the edges of the sheet. In the WallZad workshop every plate is calibrated by hand so that this tension, held between effort and balance, reaches intact the wall of whoever lives with it every day.