8 e 1/2, Trussardi in Florence

To mark the centennial of the Trussardi Group, the Fondazione Nicola Trussardi is presenting 8 e 1/2, an exhibition curated by Massimiliano Gioni and produced in collaboration with the Fondazione Pitti Discovery, which will open the celebrations for the hundredth anniversary of the fashion house.

The first major group show organized by the Foundation, set in the monumental spaces of Stazione Leopolda, 8 e 1/2 brings together the works of the thirteen international artists to whom the Fondazione Nicola Trussardi has dedicated ambitious solo exhibitions and spectacular public art projects in Milan, from 2003 to the present.

The exhibition presents an overview of the most groundbreaking projects produced to date by the Fondazione Nicola Trussardi, retracing the key stages of its activity and illuminating an important chapter in the history of recent contemporary art.

As evoked by the title borrowed from Federico Fellini's legendary film, 8 e 1/2 is a story in images, an endless series of flashbacks and premonitions, memories and déjà vus. The works by these thirteen artists unfurl through the majestic nineteenth-century naves of Stazione Leopolda like a carousel of dreams and obsessions, fantasies and longings, touching both intimate, personal spheres and the social, collective realm. 8 e 1/2 knits together scenes from real life and states of permanent hallucination, to create an extraordinary gallery of wonders.

Everything is Going to Be Alright, the neon sign by Martin Creed that stretches across the facade of Stazione Leopolda, seems like a preface to this giant game, but it is also a warning: with its excessive enthusiasm, the work serves as an ironic comment on what visitors will find beyond the threshold. And indeed, inside the former railway station, a series of unexpected encounters unfold. Elmgreen & Dragset's white car and trailer, like a metaphor for global tourism, emerge from the floor after a long, imaginary journey to the center of the earth, while a few steps away, the giant self-portrait by Polish sculptor Pawel Althamer—a balloon over 20 meters long—looms above our heads like some outlandish, temporary public monument, hypertrophic and carnivalesque.

The surreal film Parts of a Film with a Rat and a Bear by Fischli and Weiss, shot in Palazzo Litta during the major retrospective of the Swiss duo's work organized by the Fondazione Trussardi, acts as a counterpoint to Paul McCarthy's provocative, caustic depiction of George W. Bush in Static (Pink), while Darren Almond's intimate, melancholy portraits entertain a dialogue with Urs Fischer's House of Bread, which seems to have come straight out of a fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm. The grotesque events recounted by John Bock in his film Meechfieber—a potpourri of surreal machines, bric-a-brac spaceships, costumed animals and frenetic dances—contrast with the musical lament of saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc, portrayed by Anri Sala in his film Long Sorrow.

The silent, contemplative ambience of Still Life and Day for Night, two films that Tacita Dean shot in Giorgio Morandi's former studio, revealing the myriad stories that have lain hidden for decades, serve as a perfect frame for Maurizio Cattelan's reflections on death and the fragility of life. Visitors are plunged into a playful, yet tragic atmosphere: Paola Pivi's unsettling multitudes and the living sculptures directed by Tino Sehgal are like alien presences that turn the spaces of Stazione Leopolda into the perfect background for a new, enigmatic theater of the absurd.