Antonio Marras and Milan: At the Core of a Multidisciplinary Practice
Today, with two projects underway in Milan – "Maria Lai | Antonio Marras: Paso Doble" at M77 Gallery and "Per filo e per segno. Percorsi di arte tessile in Italia" at BUILDING BOX – and one in London at Carpenters Workshop Gallery, this attitude is particularly evident. The show at M77 presents a dialogue with Maria Lai, a key figure in his artistic journey; at BUILDING BOX, his work is situated within a broader reflection on textiles as a critical and contemporary language.
Marras thus confirms a practice that eludes any single definition, weaving together different forms of knowledge and expression, and reaffirming the value of gesture, materiality and storytelling in an increasingly fast-moving and dematerialised present.
Antonio Marras
Silvia Baldereschi: Since your first collection in 1987, your work has stood out for its strong experimental character, in which fashion, art, music, dance, theatre and cinema are intertwined. Today, in a context where the boundaries between disciplines are increasingly fluid, do you feel this attitude has become more widespread? And how does it continue to influence your practice?
Antonio Marras: I have never been able to draw boundaries. FAM (Francesca Alfano Miglietti) says I don’t know how to stay within margins. From the very beginning, for me, a dress has never been just a dress, but a piece of theatre, a frame from a film that was never shot, or a line of poetry. Today the world talks about “multidisciplinarity” as if it were something new, but for us it has always been the only possible language. My practice continues to feed on this organised chaos: I am a serial collector of stories that I then return through the materialisation of ceramics, installations, garments, paintings, drawings, or large metal sculptures, as in “La Geometria del Caos” the new project with De Castelli Gallery on view from April 16, where I have experimented with new techniques. For me, what matters is the need to speak through every possible medium.
SB: At the moment, you have two exhibitions in Milan. “Paso Doble” is at M77 and presents a dialogue with Maria Lai, an artist you greatly admire, who has been a source of inspiration and exchange. The exhibition features 200 works: how do proximity and distance between your work and hers intertwine? And what was your relationship with her?
AM: “Paso Doble” is an act of love. The relationship between Maria and me was made of invisible yet steel-like threads; she was a guide, an elective mother, a mirror in which to see oneself. We both use thread to mend the world and the wounds of the soul.
Seeing these 200 works together feels like witnessing a conversation that has never been interrupted. The distance between us dissolves in the gesture: Maria is more conceptual, I am more emotional; she is more minimal, I am multiple, but the heart beats at the same rhythm.
She opened the door of art to me. When she visited my home, I showed her my work in 2001 for the first time, and there she told me: “Antonio, we will do this exhibition together”. And when we parted ways, after the realisation of “Llencols de aigua” in 2003, she said: “I met you as a child and I leave you as an artist”. I have never heard words more beautiful than these.
SB: The other project you are involved in is BUILDING BOX “Percorsi di arte tessile in Italia” – where your work is part of a journey across different generations and practices, presenting textiles as an autonomous and critical language. How does your research fit into this context?
AM: Here, my research sheds its functional purpose to become pure thought. My work positions itself precisely at that point of rupture where fabric ceases to cover the body and begins to reveal a contemporary critique. It is textiles asserting their autonomy, needing nothing other than to exist as an art form.
SB: Craftsmanship has always been a central component of your work. What value does the handmade gesture have today in a context dominated by speed and digital production?
AM: Today, “handmade” is an act of political resistance. In a dematerialised world dominated by digital speed, stopping to embroider, cut or manipulate matter is a way of reclaiming time. For me, craftsmanship is not nostalgia — it is my lifeline: it is the human touch that remains when everything else evaporates.
SB: The textile tradition and Sardinian culture are recurring elements in your collections, but Sardinia is also made of immaterial dimensions such as landscape, atmosphere and a deeply rooted culture. How have your origins shaped your path?
AM: Sardinia, for me, is not a catalogue of costumes — it is a genetic imprint. It is the silence of the landscape, the melancholy you carry everywhere, the atmosphere of an island that is at the centre of the world and yet isolated from everything. My origins have not been a limitation but, like a unique alphabet, they have shaped my path.
SB: Milan has long been a central city for your work, between runway shows, exhibitions, spaces and temporary projects. What kind of relationship have you built with the city over time? Are there places that hold particular meaning for you?
AM: Milan is our “home away from home”. It is the city that has welcomed our follies, from shows in the most unexpected places to the most intimate projects.
It is a relationship of mutual generosity built over decades. Then there are many places I love, such as the Brera Academy, which honoured me with an honorary degree, founded by Maria Teresa of Austria with the Enlightenment idea that art should be public and “useful” – not for a select few, but to shape the nation’s taste. If Milan is today the capital of design and fashion, it is because Brera has, for centuries, sown the cult of form and rigour.
And then the Muccioli garden, near where we live, where I take my dogs Jacopo Urtis, known as Ruvido, and Adelasia.
But above all I love Nonostante Marras (Via Cola di Rienzo 8), a place named so by Patrizia Sardo Marras because I didn’t want it. It is a space to meet people, stage exhibitions, present books, discover clothes, talk, and much more. During Design Week you see millions of things – projects, new works, ideas – and then you eat and smell one of the most beautiful wisterias in Milan.
