ITALIAN DESIGN HAS rarely been a fount of wit. Often rendered in stone, steel or polished wood, it tends to embody understatement — minimalist geometry nodding toward classical proportion. Not since the Memphis Group in the 1980s have Italian designers been considered playful.
The opposite is true, however, of the country’s contemporary art scene, centered in Milan, which has long reveled in daftness and satire. The landscape is dominated by merry pranksters with a Dadaist bent, including its chief provocateur Maurizio Cattelan, 58, whose puckish work includes “La Nona Ora” (1999), a sculpture-cum-installation of a lifelike, full-size Pope John Paul II felled by a meteorite, and “Daddy, Daddy” (2008), in which a Pinocchio puppet floats face down, presumably drowned, in a fountain. The multimedia and video artist Francesco Vezzoli, 47, is also a lodestar, known for his elaborately embroidered portraits of movie stars with metallic-threaded tears flowing from their eyes, evoking both Cindy Sherman and children’s paint by numbers.
These disparate yet complementary strains of Italian aesthetics — the utterly refined and the willfully wild — are embodied by the Milan apartment of the curator Caroline Corbetta, 47, confidante to Cattelan, Vezzoli and their artistic spawn. In a 1960s building near the central Arco della Pace, the home — which she shares with her partner, Andrea Lazzerini, who works in finance, and their 3-year-old daughter, Ada — is an unpretentious, streamlined showcase for emerging and midcareer Italian artists, many of whom have been overlooked by the New York-centric gallery world. Their sly, meticulously crafted works — mostly photographs, sculptures and drawings — are in rich dialogue with the collection of 20th-century Italian furniture and objects that also occupy the moodily lit 1,830-square-foot space.
WILLOWY AND KINETIC, Corbetta, who decided early on that she was more suited to supporting art than making it, has been a seeker of new talent for years, a role nurtured by a two-decade friendship with the mercurial Cattelan (who is based in New York and Milan). The two met in the late 1990s, during her curatorial studies, through a professor, and in the years following often had lunch at Cattelan’s favorite restaurant, Il Carpaccio, near the Porta Venezia. The artist, who for all of his unpredictability has always supported young talent, would grill her about what new work was worth looking at. (In 2011, he announced that he’d retire from making art right after his retrospective at New York’s Guggenheim Museum, ostensibly to concentrate on his biannual magazine, Toiletpaper.) “He is insane about remaining connected,” Corbetta says.
It was at one of those lunches, in 2012, that the two hatched a plan that would come to define both her career and contemporary art in the city. Their conversation had swerved, as it often did, to how Corbetta should open her own gallery. She glanced up mid-bite at the restaurant’s front window, 1.3 feet deep and 7.6 feet high, and joked about opening an exhibition space in it. “Why not?” Cattelan said. The owner had become a friend, so it wasn’t hard for Cattelan to convince him that he should turn over the small nook to her. Within a month, the curator installed her first show, for which the Milan-based artist Serena Vestrucci hung some pieces that inspire her practice on elastic bands — scrawled notes, headless plastic animals, necklaces — and every two weeks or so Corbetta mounted a new installation in the window, which Cattelan called Il Crepaccio: the crevice. Over the next four years, she showed some 130 artists, many of whom she found at local fairs and through her own research; others she learned about from artists once Il Crepaccio gained momentum. For each opening, the quiet sidewalk and street outside the window became a party and occasionally an impromptu performance stage, mixing locals — who initially “were completely confused about why people were coming to see this crazy stuff suspended in a restaurant window,” she says — and art-world denizens. “It was the opposite of the white box.”
Corbetta collaged an elaborate invitation for each opening and sent them digitally, but she kept her identity secret for almost a year; most insiders assumed the installations were orchestrated by Cattelan himself. The tiny gallery began making it into travel guides, and the fashion e-commerce site Yoox partnered with Il Crepaccio for a pop-up at the 2013 Venice Biennale. When the restaurant was sold in 2016, the new owners wanted to continue, but Corbetta felt it was time to move on (she has since migrated the gallery to an Instagram account, @ilcrepaccio, where she curates weeklong solo shows of original commissioned work). “The whole thing was imprecise, full of flaws, but it was also full of soul,” she says. “Still, you need to evolve.”
HER APARTMENT HAS a similar depth of feeling, the result of Corbetta’s own mix of thoughtful planning and spontaneity. When the couple moved in 2016, they had it redrawn, allowing for an expansive living area near the front balcony and a warren of cleverly configured private spaces.
Inside, the colors are deeply saturated, a textured mix of glossy, matte and metallic surfaces that reflect and absorb sun during the day and give the place a sophisticated glow at night. The dropped-ceiling entrance hall is enameled in a brackish blue, illuminated by Achille Castiglioni’s ’60s-era Taraxacum fixture, a cluster of glass bubbles. In the sweeping living room, a curvy, custom-made sofa based on a ’50s design is upholstered in peacock velvet. There are chairs from Molteni & C — editions of Gio Ponti and recent designs by Patricia Urquiola. (Corbetta has curated several exhibitions of emerging Italian artists in the furniture company’s showrooms.)
Pieces by those artists, mostly figurative works with a strong element of craft, punctuate the apartment without dominating it. One wall of the entrance is taken up by Emiliano Maggi’s “Gold Drama” (2018), an acid and silver-processed mirror studded with an expressive glazed ceramic sculpture that suggests a contorted face. Above the kitchen sink, which is carved from a slab of Black Sea marble, is a series of metal jar lids on which Thomas Braida, a painter and sculptor whom Corbetta has championed, created tiny, phantasmagoric oils. “He did them in 2010, before he had a real studio or money for canvases, so his mother gave him jar lids,” she says. In a seating area nearby is a one-of-a-kind glazed ceramic stool Braida made for her — his first attempt at working with the material — adorned with an underwater nightmare-scape of tumbling shells and sea monsters. A poster from Vezzoli’s series “Surrealiz” (2008), an embroidery that unsettlingly meshes the faces of Salvador Dalí and Elizabeth Taylor, peeks out from behind a set of floor-to-ceiling custom-dyed pale pink double-crepe-sable drapes leading to the long balcony; Corbetta was a curator for the 2009-10 show “Dalí Dalí Featuring Francesco Vezzoli” at Stockholm’s Moderna Museet.
These days, the curator no longer wonders if it was the right choice not to open a gallery. Remaining free to cultivate Milan’s small but vibrant avant-garde has become her métier. The city, she says, has never been more alive, its status as a capital of both fashion and design bolstered by the recent expansion of the annual furniture fair, Salone del Mobile — and so nurturing that radical edge has become increasingly crucial. Her goal is to gain a larger audience for the younger artists she cultivates without diluting their subversive charisma. “If you don’t fight against perfection,” she says, “you dry up and fade away.”B:
彩霸王333149【只】【有】【新】【手】【才】【会】【在】【迷】【宫】【里】【相】【信】【运】【气】。 【而】【老】【练】【的】【冒】【险】【家】，【从】【来】【都】【是】——【探】【全】【图】！ 【孟】【起】【坐】【在】【入】【口】【的】【位】【置】，【托】8【着】【下】【巴】【思】【考】【道】：“【这】【棵】【树】【可】【以】【看】【做】【一】【个】【立】【体】【的】【迷】【宫】，【入】【口】【处】【是】【最】【低】【层】，【出】【口】【不】【会】【在】【最】【高】【层】，【而】【是】【每】【层】【都】【有】【可】【能】……” 【“【若】【是】【死】【路】，【该】【当】【如】【何】。”】 “【一】【个】【专】【业】【的】【冒】【险】【者】【是】【不】【会】【问】【这】【种】【问】【题】【的】。
【黎】【明】【外】**，【一】【身】【汗】【味】【的】【王】【老】【二】【扛】【着】【锄】【头】【跟】【着】【大】【部】【队】【往】【家】【赶】。 【擦】【了】【擦】【额】【头】【的】【汗】，【想】【想】【在】【家】【正】【等】【着】【他】【回】【家】【吃】【饭】【的】【老】【婆】，【浑】【身】【就】【又】【充】【满】【了】【力】【量】。 【每】【天】【来】【外】**【干】【活】，【虽】【然】【很】【累】，【可】【他】【却】【对】【现】【在】【的】【生】【活】【很】【满】【意】，【因】【为】【活】【的】【有】【希】【望】，【有】【盼】【头】。 【看】【着】【前】【面】【高】【大】【的】【城】【墙】，【还】【有】【城】【墙】【上】【那】【不】【算】【耀】【眼】，【却】【绝】【对】【不】【会】【让】【人】【忽】【视】【的】
【楚】【青】【坐】【了】【下】【来】，【精】【神】【力】【向】【着】【四】【周】【扫】【了】【扫】，【随】【后】【说】【道】，“【现】【在】【暗】【精】【灵】【一】【族】，【只】【有】【你】【们】【五】【位】【族】【老】【了】【么】？” 【几】【位】【老】【者】【皆】【是】【点】【了】【点】【头】，【五】【位】【族】【老】，【每】【一】【位】，【都】【是】【年】【过】【了】【千】【岁】，【在】【人】【族】【之】【中】，【哪】【怕】【是】【破】【碎】【境】【界】【强】【者】【的】【一】【生】，【能】【否】【达】【到】【千】【载】【都】【未】【可】【知】。 【夜】【晨】【在】【一】【旁】【笑】【了】【笑】，【说】【道】，“【这】【五】【位】【族】【老】，【哪】【怕】【是】【这】【片】【森】【林】【不】【在】【了】，【也】
“【团】【座】，【小】【鬼】【子】【马】【上】【就】【要】【追】【来】【了】，【我】【们】【现】【在】【怎】【么】【办】？” 【陈】【铭】【将】【眼】【下】【局】【势】【简】【单】【做】【了】【一】【个】【介】【绍】，【然】【后】【问】【道】。 【包】【括】【他】【在】【内】，【不】【知】【道】【为】【什】【么】，【哪】【怕】【此】【刻】【团】【座】【杨】【尘】【身】【受】【重】【伤】，【但】【只】【要】【他】【在】。 【他】【们】【就】【一】【点】【不】【慌】。 “【我】【们】【的】【伤】【员】【太】【多】，【全】【部】【一】【起】【撤】【退】【的】【话】，【恐】【被】【小】【鬼】【子】【追】【上】。 【所】【以】，【五】【营】【留】【下】【来】【断】【后】。 【其】【余】【各】
【言】っちゃった 【说】【出】【来】【了】 もう【一】【時】だけ【隣】りに【居】たい 【我】【想】【在】【你】【身】【边】【再】【呆】【一】【会】 いやいやまさか【延】【長】は【鬱】【雜】い 【不】【不】【这】【不】【行】【再】【继】【续】【下】【去】【只】【会】【令】【人】【厌】【烦】 【御】【免】なさい【帰】ってね 【真】【是】【抱】【歉】【呢】【我】【回】【去】【了】 【二】【酸】【化】の【炭】【素】きみの【濃】【度】 【二】【氧】【化】【碳】【是】【你】【的】【浓】【度】 【浸】ってたいよ【泥】【沼】の【夢】に 【想】【要】【浸】【泡】【在】彩霸王333149“【谁】——？！！”【惊】【骇】【之】【下】，【卡】【塞】【尔】【不】【禁】【爆】【喝】【了】【出】【来】：“【给】【我】【出】【来】！” 【其】【实】【不】【用】【他】【说】，【众】【人】【已】【经】【发】【现】【来】【者】【根】【本】【没】【有】【隐】【藏】【的】【打】【算】，【直】【接】【就】【光】【明】【正】【大】【地】【现】【身】【了】。 【只】【见】【大】【厅】【中】【一】【处】【空】【间】【忽】【然】【泛】【起】【了】【一】【丝】【涟】【漪】，【然】【后】【一】【只】【白】【色】【的】【史】【莱】【姆】【便】【犹】【如】【从】【水】【面】【下】【跳】【出】【来】【一】【般】【从】【那】【阵】【轻】【微】【的】【空】【间】【涟】【漪】【中】【跳】【了】【出】【来】，【然】【后】【没】【等】【卡】【塞】【尔】【他】
“【有】【人】【来】【到】【过】【神】【羽】【族】【祖】【地】！” 【羽】【族】【主】【宰】，【月】【穹】【神】【王】【穿】【过】【结】【界】【大】【阵】，【降】【临】【神】【羽】【族】【祖】【地】。 【曾】【经】【他】【将】【神】【羽】【族】【毁】【灭】，【夺】【走】【大】【权】，【也】【大】【肆】【搜】【刮】【了】【神】【羽】【族】【的】【宝】【物】。 【神】【羽】【族】【祖】【地】【由】【于】【埋】【葬】【了】【太】【多】【神】【羽】【族】【大】【能】，【他】【们】【死】【后】【残】【留】【的】【意】【志】【与】【祖】【地】【融】【为】【一】【体】，【顽】【固】【抵】【抗】，【月】【穹】【神】【王】【一】【时】【也】【没】【辙】。 【于】【是】【他】【将】【神】【羽】【族】【祖】【地】【封】【印】【在】【羽】【化】
【你】【就】【是】【这】【样】【的】【人】【啊】。【孙】【二】【和】【猴】【子】【在】【心】【里】【咆】【哮】，【可】【是】【聪】【明】【的】【没】【有】【说】【出】【口】，【但】【他】【们】【脸】【上】【的】【表】【情】【却】【已】【经】【出】【卖】【了】【他】【们】。 【林】【映】【青】【笑】【笑】：“【什】【么】【时】【候】【开】【始】，【我】【在】【你】【们】【心】【里】【的】【形】【象】【这】【么】【差】【了】？” “【你】【不】【是】【向】【来】【如】【此】【吗】？”【孙】【二】【笑】【着】【说】【道】，“【你】【也】【别】【在】【意】，【就】【算】【做】【不】【成】【夫】【妻】，【我】【们】【不】【还】【是】【并】【肩】【作】【战】【的】【好】【战】【友】【吗】？” “【孙】【二】，【你】
【既】【然】【玄】【武】【巨】【龟】【此】【刻】【已】【经】【答】【应】【把】【宝】【藏】【交】【给】【自】【己】，【江】【长】【歌】【便】【决】【定】【不】【再】【难】【为】【它】【了】，【毕】【竟】【自】【己】【已】【经】【掌】【握】【了】【能】【够】【控】【制】【它】【的】【办】【法】，【也】【不】【怕】【它】【出】【尔】【反】【尔】。 【于】【是】【江】【长】【歌】【便】【在】【自】【己】【的】【脑】【海】【之】【中】【对】【着】【水】【龙】【说】【道】“【水】【龙】【前】【辈】，【就】【此】【把】【玄】【武】【巨】【龟】【给】【放】【了】【吧】。” 【江】【长】【歌】【和】【几】【位】【龙】【族】【前】【辈】【解】【释】【了】【一】【下】【自】【己】【心】【中】【所】【想】，【也】【获】【得】【了】【众】【龙】【族】【的】【同】【意】，【随】