Marco Rota about Nando Crippa: Modelling the clay to give shape to figures is the single most presumptuous thing a man can accomplish. I believe it is precisely through this act that you really get to understand why, in the art vocabulary, the word “creation” is so fundamental and recurrent. Nando Crippa’s work is a process of sedimentation of a collective imaginary that has gone through the Willendorf and Brassempouy Venuses, but it is also loaded with the whole iconography of modernity that we find in the ads of old magazines and in posters. His figures are almost always archetypes: women are creatures halfway between Eve and Penelope, but they won’t find among the little men their Adam, nor their Ulysses. You could never identify in this artist’s figures the madness of a Don Quixote, that sort of energy able to support the action in spite of its own irrationality. They are just passengers, standing at a station. They will never get on any train, because they just have forgotten their destination (and also their own destiny). There is always in them a kind of enigma to penetrate, which is not the intellectual, hermetic (perhaps alchemical) exercise that you meet in works of art such as Albrecht Dürer’s Melancholia, but rather the metaphysical or existential questioning, as in Giorgio De Chirico’s Enigma of the Arrival and the Afternoon. Just like the figures in De Chirico’s painting, Nando Crippa’s little men and women are at the edge of an empty chessboard, but they have forgotten the rules of the game. Or perhaps they still have to invent them.