Francesco Villicich is not your average artist. The process through which his paintings are conceived, develop, evolve, and are brought to conclusion is not a straightforward one-on-one relationship between he and the canvas, with a full knowledge and understanding of who is in charge. It is instead through a constant metamorphosis of inspiration and ideas that colours and forms take shape, almost as if it is the canvas itself that answers back to stimulations and dictates what comes next. The basic narrative is evident since Francesco is, in essence, a landscape artist, superimposing the physical beauty of existing panoramas to the amorphous landscapes of his imagination. However, it is this imagination and the self-evolution of the works that play the most important part in the final result, especially in his latest paintings. Although sometimes their large size, the strong and unapologetic palette, the complexity in the layering of the forms, and the seemingly complicated message they convey may create an initial barrier between the canvas and the viewer, Francesco’s works need patience and commitment in order to be fully appreciated and to offer a connection with the artist at a different level of understanding. The fulfilment and recompense one can achieve through this process is unlike many other experiences with works of art. This is what makes him an accomplished artist, true to the core of his practice. The present body of work is a further step in this direction, with growing layers of complexity that throw at us everything he cares about: the four elements, the depth of the landscape, the mystical writings of ancient alphabets as well as verses by Australian poets, the organic growth of the vegetal and the mineral worlds, and the organs of the human body. All this is based on the concept of infusing life into his creations similarly to Frankenstein’s attempt to give life to his creature in Mary Shelley’s account. Avoiding the later, romanticised reinterpretations of the tale of Frankenstein, Francesco goes straight to the philosophic and poetic core of Shelley’s work, extracting its raw essence and appropriating it through his paintings. As the viewer will experience, the “Frankenstein” paintings are numbered in the exhibition in chronological creative order, from the earliest to the most recent. It is evident that Francesco has progressively moved from the dark tonalities of the initial moments, when he took the first steps of his journey, to the recent, luminous paintings where this journey progressed to attain its positive end. A couple of additional thoughts came to mind while I was viewing and discussing with Francesco his recent works. One relates to their musicality in a broad sense. His paintings possess, in my opinion, an inner orchestral rhythm that makes them come to life not only to the eye but also to the ear, in particular through the music of Russian composers. It is almost as if I could hear the soundtrack of Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain, or even more of Stravinsky’s ballet music for The Rite of Spring. I find this association particularly uncanny because Francesco was an acclaimed classical dancer of international renown before he retired and became a full-time artist. He will probably find it amusing that I see a strong association between his two most important artistic endeavours. The second thought is about the three-dimensionality of his paintings and the tactile feelings that they impart to the viewer. These amoeba-like forms and dripping bodies almost beg to be touched and handled in order to exorcise the uneasy feeling of mystery that they initially convey. For this reason I was ready to ask the question as to how Francesco, as an artist, would satisfy this type of curiosity and “touchy-feely” need on the part of viewers like me. He provided an unexpected and immediate answer to the question I never needed to ask: he is also a sculptor and has created some three-dimensional works which, employing found material and a generous amount of paint, provide a natural extension and complement to his paintings. As I wrote at the beginning, Francesco Villicich is not your average artist. His passion and commitment to his work and his desire to communicate his feelings, fears, and love are unlike many artists whom I know. His spirit is romantic in the literary and musical sense, prioritising feelings over order, vision over reality, ideals over practical solutions, and impracticability over mundane concerns. read more... read less

The artist’s personal research and affinity with nature during the course of his life led him to the realisation of a landscape as a living entity, with emotional capacity and self-determination. In his work, the ultimate goal is comparable to that of the character of Victor Frankenstein from Mary Shelly’s romantic novel who passionately attempted to infuse life into his creature. The landscape appears almost dissected revealing its inner side, with simple elements such as stones and earth looking like arteries and joints, the branches and pathways as veins and tendons. Trees become organs and flowers the heart and soul, the shaded distances are like skin pigmentation which, like a vessel, carries the whole, intertwining man and nature as one. The landscape is scarred and sick as is Frankenstein’s creature, which is born with inner beauty and purity until ultimately exposed to injustice and fear. This scratched and incised surface reflects the state of its strained soul. Once drawn into this newly created land the viewers receive enough elements to relate to their own world, yet plenty is left to the imagination therefore their unique interpretation becomes a creative act in its own right. In enabling such an experience the artist has had to mercilessly expose his inner most self, and inevitably invites the viewer to do the same. Observing the paintings becomes an endlessly growing experience as the image constantly seems to perform a metamorphosis, a persistent choreographic flow of movement with an inner energy which rewards the intensity dedicated in the painting’s observation. The paintings are rich in symbols and recurring elements of graffiti, incision and calligraphic undulation: these archetypes seem to serve as the spark for life-evoking rituals performed to give birth to a magical land, a poetic vision in which colour and movement bare the essential elements of earth, air, fire and water. The writings appear from wide and varied sources of inspiration: the ‘Pustaha’ or divination books of the ancient Batak tribes of Sumatra; a particular phrase of Australian poet Peter Porter; various passages from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; the old Hebrew word ‘EMET’ which is connected to the legend of the Golem and, most importantly, memories, names and streams of emotions which for the artist are profoundly related to the essence of life. This series of works is, in fact, a celebration of life, both spiritual and emotional, and one cannot help but wonder if the lyrical world depicted here is simply where Frankenstein’s creature would have finally felt at home. read more... read less