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Lot Essay
Painted in 1954, Gioco di cavaliere (Rider’s Game) explores one of Marino Marini’s most iconic themes – the precarious relationship of a rider and his horse, captured in the moment the rider loses his hold and the power balance between the two shifts dramatically in favour of the beast. This impressive, striking painting evokes the spirit of crisis and climax that came to dominate Marini’s oeuvre following the end of the Second World War, as the realities of life after the conflict and the threat of a nuclear war extinguished the hope the artist had originally felt in the immediate aftermath of the cessation of hostilities. The title suggests a more light-hearted, playful context. There is a distinct focus on the architecture of the horse’s form, its towering legs and powerful outstretched neck placed front and centre within the composition, its well defined, almost cubist body dominating the composition, as it stands strong and firm, safely ferrying its boisterous rider to their destination.
While painting allowed Marini to explore the forms of his sculptures before committing to their three-dimensional realisation, its place in his creative process is perhaps more important for the freedom it offered him to explore the relationship between form and colour. ‘Painting for me depends on colour, which takes me further and further away from real form,’ Marini explained. ‘The emotions that colour awake in me, that is to say the contrast of one colour with another, or their relationship, stimulates my imagination much more than does the materialization of the human figures if I have to rely on pictorial means alone’ (Marini, ‘Thoughts of Marino Marini,’ in G. di San Lazzaro, Homage to Marino Marini, New York, 1975, p. 6). Through his experimentations with different pigments, hues and tones in his paintings, Marini began to develop a new appreciation for form and space, for the play of light and shadow, and for the ways in which subtle shifts in texture could affect our perception of the finished work.
While Marini’s art remains firmly rooted in the figurative, the sheer energy of the brushwork perhaps reflects the effects of his recent exposure to the New York art world, where he had exhibited for the first time in 1950. This large, vibrant, energetic metropolis came as a revelation to the artist, and its spirit soon permeated his paintings. The increased scale of this work, for example, along with the visceral, sensuous application of dripping paint, echoes the compositions of the Abstract Expressionists, which captivated the New York art critics during this period. Discussing this aspect of his work, Edward Trier has written: ‘If Marini […] combines coloured geometrical shapes with the graphic diagram of a rider, or simply invents a non-figurative “composition” out of interlocking areas of colour, his handwriting nevertheless remains unmistakable even in abstraction. It is the same tension between static and dynamic, between architectonically firm and mobile dancing forms, that raises the bold, confidently placed areas of colour above the level of decoration to that of expression’ (E. Trier, The Sculpture of Marino Marini, London, 1961, p. 22). Indeed, while Marini may have been inspired by the works he encountered in New York, absorbing a certain sense of atmosphere and approach to materials from the Abstract Expressionists, Marini’s aesthetic remained distinctly individual and personal.
While painting allowed Marini to explore the forms of his sculptures before committing to their three-dimensional realisation, its place in his creative process is perhaps more important for the freedom it offered him to explore the relationship between form and colour. ‘Painting for me depends on colour, which takes me further and further away from real form,’ Marini explained. ‘The emotions that colour awake in me, that is to say the contrast of one colour with another, or their relationship, stimulates my imagination much more than does the materialization of the human figures if I have to rely on pictorial means alone’ (Marini, ‘Thoughts of Marino Marini,’ in G. di San Lazzaro, Homage to Marino Marini, New York, 1975, p. 6). Through his experimentations with different pigments, hues and tones in his paintings, Marini began to develop a new appreciation for form and space, for the play of light and shadow, and for the ways in which subtle shifts in texture could affect our perception of the finished work.
While Marini’s art remains firmly rooted in the figurative, the sheer energy of the brushwork perhaps reflects the effects of his recent exposure to the New York art world, where he had exhibited for the first time in 1950. This large, vibrant, energetic metropolis came as a revelation to the artist, and its spirit soon permeated his paintings. The increased scale of this work, for example, along with the visceral, sensuous application of dripping paint, echoes the compositions of the Abstract Expressionists, which captivated the New York art critics during this period. Discussing this aspect of his work, Edward Trier has written: ‘If Marini […] combines coloured geometrical shapes with the graphic diagram of a rider, or simply invents a non-figurative “composition” out of interlocking areas of colour, his handwriting nevertheless remains unmistakable even in abstraction. It is the same tension between static and dynamic, between architectonically firm and mobile dancing forms, that raises the bold, confidently placed areas of colour above the level of decoration to that of expression’ (E. Trier, The Sculpture of Marino Marini, London, 1961, p. 22). Indeed, while Marini may have been inspired by the works he encountered in New York, absorbing a certain sense of atmosphere and approach to materials from the Abstract Expressionists, Marini’s aesthetic remained distinctly individual and personal.