Art

Lucio Fontana cut the canvas open, and painting never closed the wound

Penelope H. Fritz
Add us on Google
Lucio Fontana
Lucio Fontana
Photo: DarioBurul1 / CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
BornFebruary 19, 1899
Rosario
DiedSeptember 7, 1968 (69)
OccupationPainter
AwardsGrand Prize for Painting, Venice Biennale · Silver Medal of Military Valour

A slit in a canvas takes about a second to make. That is the trap Lucio Fontana set for everyone who stands in front of one of his Attese: the gesture looks so easy that the eye refuses to accept it as the work, and so final that nobody has managed to repeat it without seeming to quote him. He never painted a picture of space. He opened the surface, lined the wound with black gauze and let the darkness behind it enter the image, turning the oldest support in Western painting into an object with an inside.

The cut came at the end of a long detour that the clean white canvases tend to hide. His father, Luigi Fontana, was an Italian sculptor working in Rosario, in the Argentine province of Santa Fe, and it was there that Lucio was born, in the last winter of the nineteenth century. He was raised by his father and his stepmother, Anita Campiglio, and at six was sent to Italy to be schooled. When the First World War came he volunteered, rose to second lieutenant of infantry and was wounded on the Karst front, coming home with a silver medal for military valour.

After the war he went back to Rosario, where he had been born on 19 February 1899, worked in his father’s studio and then opened his own, already drifting from paternal realism towards Alexander Archipenko’s angular bodies. In 1927 he was in Milan again, enrolled at the Brera Academy under the sculptor Adolfo Wildt, with Fausto Melotti as a fellow student. Wildt saw him as the heir to his polished, mannerist marble. Fontana’s answer, as he told it in 1963, was to leave the academy, shape a lump of plaster roughly into a seated man and throw tar over it. He wanted, he said, a road entirely his own. His first solo show followed at the Galleria del Milione in Milan in 1930.

Through the 1930s he worked in two directions at once. In Albisola, on the Ligurian coast, he made ceramics in loud colours and almost liquid forms, and in 1935 he joined the Paris group Abstraction-Création. The other direction is the one the retrospectives usually skip.

Fontana is documented as a member of the Fasci di Combattimento as early as 1920, and much of his public sculpture in the 1930s was made for the regime. He showed Vittoria fascista at the 1930 Venice Biennale and modelled a bust of Mussolini the same year. In 1936 his Victory group stood in the hall of honour of the Milan Triennale, renamed the Hall of Triumph to celebrate the invasion of Ethiopia, and the new headquarters of the Milan Fascist federation received a ceiling relief of five armed winged Victories laden with spoils of war; after 1945 the building became a Carabinieri station. None of this cancels what came later, but it complicates the picture of an artist born pure into the space age. The man who would write manifestos about matter dissolving into light had spent years giving bodies to a political myth, and it is hard not to read his later abandonment of the figure partly as an exit from that culture of commissions.

The Second World War sent him back to Argentina for seven years, while Allied bombing destroyed his Milan studio and everything in it. In Buenos Aires he founded the Altamira academy with a group of students in 1946 and helped draft the Manifiesto Blanco, which he did not sign but plainly shaped: matter, colour and sound in motion, it declared, would make up the new art. Back in Milan in 1947, he launched Spatialism with Beniamino Joppolo, Giorgio Kaisserlian and Milena Milani, and kept issuing manifestos until 1952.

The ideas became objects quickly. In 1949, at the Galleria del Naviglio, he showed the Ambiente spaziale a luce nera, a dark room in which a large amoeba-like shape hung under ultraviolet light, often cited as one of the first installations in the modern sense. The same year he started piercing canvases with an awl, the series known as the Buchi, and gave almost every later painting the generic title Concetto spaziale. In 1951, with the architect Luciano Baldessari, he hung a looping neon line above the visitors of the IX Triennale; the piece is now in Milan’s Museo del Novecento.

The cuts arrived at the end of 1958 and were shown the following year. Over time they grew fewer and cleaner, on monochrome grounds, with a handwritten phrase on the reverse, ironic or absurd, said to have served as a guard against forgery. Around them came the split terracotta spheres of the Nature, the glittering Venice canvases of 1961, the egg-shaped canvases of La fine di Dio and, at the end, the framed shadow plays of the Teatrini.

His public did not follow him easily. When the holed canvases appeared at the 1949 Biennale, critics were baffled and visitors laughed; the cuts were attacked precisely because they seemed so simple to copy. The market has since turned the argument inside out: in 2015 a yellow Concetto spaziale, La fine di Dio sold at Christie’s for $29.2 million, a sum the people who laughed in Venice could not have imagined.

Recognition came late and all at once. At the 1966 Venice Biennale he built, with Carlo Scarpa, an oval white room holding canvases crossed by a single cut and won the Grand Prize for painting; the same year the Walker Art Center gave him his first solo show in an American museum, and he appeared, in an embroidered dress uniform, in Ugo Nespolo’s film La galante avventura del cavaliere dal lieto volto. In 1968 he set a single plaster slash at the heart of an all-white labyrinth at Documenta 4 in Kassel, then left Milan for Comabbio, his family’s village near Varese, where he died on 7 September 1968, aged 69. His wife, Teresita Rasini, whom he had met in 1930 and married in 1952, created the Fondazione Lucio Fontana in 1982 and left it more than six hundred of his works.

The foundation has kept the work moving. Retrospectives at the Centre Pompidou and the Met Breuer were followed in 2025 by the first museum show devoted only to his ceramics, at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice. Until 19 December 2026, Hauser & Wirth Hong Kong is showing Lucio Fontana: Spatialism. Pioneering the Contemporary, curated by Luca Massimo Barbero, with the first broad introduction to his work in Simplified Chinese. Each new audience meets the same proposition he made with a knife: that a picture can be a threshold rather than a window, and that what lies behind it is part of the work.

Tags: , , Lucio Fontana, , ,

Featured News — Lucio Fontana

See all →

Add us on Google

Discussion

There are 0 comments.