Alessandro Miotti’s painted universe is simultaneously surreal and earthy, introspective and theatric. His expressive works function in a unique and enigmatic atmospheric field—one defined by expansive, if not bleak landscapes, silent horizons, and odd figures performing mysterious actions. Miotti’s art is a delicate balancing between figuration and narrative ambiguity. His characters, dressed in casually white loose outfits and wide-brimmed hats, explore everyday settings in the fields that appear suspended in time, devoid of any evident historical or cultural relevance. The result is rather atmospheric, with each canvas representing a frozen frame from an unknowable narrative.
One of the hallmarks of Miotti’s painting is his approach to representing the human form. His figures defy standard portraiture; their faces are often unrecognizable, faceless , obscured, produced through the expressive texture of brushwork that flattens identity and intensifies emotion. Instead of discreet features Miotti focuses on posture, hand gestures and bodily proximity to signify intimacy or separation. The way his figures lean toward one another or crouch quietly in the grass implies moments of intense thought, complicity or easiness. It is these delicate fluctuations that form the emotional core of each painting.
words: yannis kostarias
Colour is central to the mood of Miotti’s scenes. His palette leans toward earthy greens, umbers and grays, interspersed with stark whites and soft pastels. Particularly, White seems to have a more unique place in the painter’s chromatic palette. These choices augment the silent tension in his work — lustrous yet muted, poetic yet held back. The atmosphere he creates is not one of chaos, but one of stillness — the kind of charged silence that precedes a storm or the hush of a receding memory.
Dogs are a recurring presence in Miotti’s works, however, they are not just animals, they serve as symbolic extensions of his humans. Whether beside a figure or trotting across a field, whether caught in mid-action, these dog presences are of the emotional or tonal moment. They serve simultaneously as travel mates and statuary chaperones, reinforcing the isolation, devotion, or enigma of the human figures. They deepen the narrative field without resolving it — part of the artist’s larger fascination with unspoken communications and the emotional charge of proximity. Formally, Miotti uses a decisive and bold brushstroke, as if in an attempt to give up self-control, as well as in his attention to hair, drapery, and nature. The grass in the middle ground all curves in looping, stylized sheets, all furthering the idea that the world is man-made rather than literal. Rail of smoke becomes an animated element, too — slides across the canvas as visual metaphors for thought, breath, and connection.
In effect, Alessandro Miotti constructs a universe where emotion is coded in gesture, where identity is abstracted in pose and proximity and where the ever-present dog is both a symbol and a companion. His paintings demand that viewers look slowly, that they sit with ambiguity and find resonance in the quiet drama of his staged but soulful worlds.
Could you share with us some insights into your new work titled “Come ho eliminato tutti (Sceriffi)/How I Dropped It All (Sheriffs)” (2024)? Is there any particular story behind this new painting?
The central image depicts a cowboy, riding a horse, smoking a joint while aiming his rifle at a sheriff lying on the ground. Around the horse are two other figures, also defeated: one tries to grab the animal, while the other is completely overwhelmed by the struggle. What strikes is the similarity between all the characters: from their clothes to their accessories, and even the mirroring of their poses. Each figure seems to be the reflection of the other, as if they were the same person seen from opposite angles. Just like Narcissus looking into the water, I saw myself in the face of my enemy. The story behind this painting follows several introspective directions, but one stands out in particular: the theme of mutiny. The work reflects on conformity, highlighting our desire to be unique, but also the incompetence that often accompanies us, along with the laziness that prevents us from admitting an uncomfortable truth: our greatest enemy is ourselves. During the months I spent working on the painting, I went through very intense emotional phases. From the feeling of not being accepted for who I am, I moved to the need to confront this fear with a sense of vengeance, which later turned into creative action. In the end, it is an attempt to reclaim my space in the world.
How would you define your work in a few words (ideally in three words)?
Timeless, Metaphysical, Introspective.
Your work often includes dynamic and visceral portraits of dogs in moments of tension, struggle, or rest. What draws you to these subjects, and how do they fit into the broader narrative of your artistic practice?
The dog is an extremely familiar subject to me. Sometimes I almost feel the need to openly declare how involved I am with this figure, or perhaps to confess a true obsession. The dog is close to me because it embodies some of my deepest fantasies, and the relationship it establishes with the viewer is immediate: it evokes a desire for possession, contact, and recognition. I often depict them in twists or moments of physical tension that express the most elemental and instinctive behaviors — anger, hunger, sexual desire. In these representations, the relationship between the subjects emerges through games of mirroring and contrasts, like a visual oxymoron that highlights the ambiguities of the bond. Through these portraits, I explore intimate life, the relationship with the other, and the vulnerabilities that inhabit love — in all its forms. The “look into the camera,” which I often use, isa way to build an emotional bridge between the animal and the viewer, a direct form of involvement that questions the viewer, as if asking: and you, where do you recognize yourself in this gaze?
Human figures also appear in your work, but often they are subtle, almost spectral, blending into the background or being obscured. How do these hidden types contribute to the interaction between man and beast in your work?
In my paintings, the human component tends to be less exposed compared to the animal figure. Faces and gestures are often disguised, as if they didn’t want to fully show themselves. This choice comes from the need to speak about solitude, marginal identities, that fine line that connects shame and ostentation in the way we relate to who we are… or who we would like to be. In the series dedicated to cowboys, for example, I depict them in poses full of erotic tension, smoking joints, as if they were “tough guys.” But their faces are often obscured by large hats or turned away. In reality, these figures tell a more fragile existential condition: that of someone who feels on the margins, hidden, yet seeking visibility. Through the anonymity of these subjects, I find it easier to recognize myself, and at the same time, create a space where the viewer can also identify. The difference between the representation of animals and humans, therefore, is not random: on one side, there is pure instinct, exposed, without mediation — the dog, the struggle, hunger, desire. Onthe other, there is the human, marked by the complexity of social behavior, the need to adapt, todisguise. The two narratives speak to each other, chase each other, and are united by a commonthread: identification, though lived on different levels.
Your color palette is earthy and delicate, with significant luminous nuances. What role does color play in the atmosphere and narrative of your visualizations?
The tonal contrast in my works is a fundamental element of my research. It is never decorative, but serves to explore themes deeply connected to everyday life, such as nostalgia and self-pity. In my paintings, the atmosphere is built around timeless places, evoking personal memories that focus on an emotional drama of the past. Color is never just color: it is memory and tension. The construction of the image takes place through free yet structured strokes that guide the gaze along lines of force, articulating the visual space. At this point, my approach focuses on the tension and materiality of the surface. Each subsequent layer does not cover but blends with the previous ones, adding depth, vibrations, and transparencies. The distinctive element of my style is the use of the line as a constructive and descriptive tool. It serves to isolate details, focus on particular elements, and give rhythm to the figure. This meticulousness in rendering detail evokes a tension that digs into the meaning of the image, rather than limiting itself to the surface. The result is a painting that unites gesture and control, where the structure of the drawing is not only compositional foundation but becomes an expressive tool. The atmosphere that emerges is that of a timeless place, evoking memories and emotions related to a personal tension, perhaps linked to my home, or an emotional moment from the past that belongs to me. In this space, sky and earth unite in a great glow, where every detail becomes a vehicle of memory and meaning.
The tension between ferocity and domestication, instinct and control, seems to play an important role in your work. Do you treat these animal portraits as metaphors for human behavior, or do you seek to visually convey another approach to these creatures?
Exactly, my animal portraits are metaphors for human behavior. As I mentioned earlier, they explore the more instinctive and irrational aspects of human emotion and our relationship with the other. The animals in my works are not simply subjects: they are vehicles for deeper reflections, little secrets I embed in the details. It’s the tears, the saliva, the lights that caress wet noses, or the expressions of the dogs that reveal something more, an intimate bond between the subject and what I want to communicate.
Have specific works of art been created from random experiments in your studio, or do you approach a particular concept or narrative at the start of your artistic process?
There is definitely a random component to my process, especially at the beginning, when I work on sketches. During that phase, the gesture is quick, chaotic, almost impulsive. It’s like I start with masses and formless patterns, which I then transform until I find a clear direction on the canvas. Sometimes I already have an image in mind, other times fragile, unstable solutions suggest something to me. Painting, for me, is also a way to understand myself better, to put the pieces back together. Sometimes the works themselves show me an escape route, a way to talk about what I feel. There’s a phrase I feel is very much mine, taken from a youth song by my favorite rapper: “My heart is a real fire drum.” It’s an image that captures well the energy I invest in the work, how it draws from my experiences and how I feel things. So, I would say that my process is never just technical: it’s total, and inevitably connected to the reflections I have every day.
Can you name any artists who, recently or in general, inspire you?
There are several artists I admire. Some impress me with technical aspects, others with the depth of their research. If I had to name one, it would definitely be Goya. I consider him a point of reference, capable of evolving while maintaining a great expressive strength, from his rise to his decline. Looking to the past, I also feel close to artists like Antonio Ligabue and Philip Guston. As for the present, Alessandro Pessoli is another artist who impressed me. I still remember the first time I saw his work: it intrigued me, even though his language is quite distant from mine.
What are your projects for the near future?
I am currently participating in several group exhibitions in Italy, and in June I will be in London for a group show with Samuele Visentin. At the same time, I am working on an important commission and, for the first time, on my first solo exhibition. I prefer not to reveal too much for now; some details still need to remain suspended.
all images courtesy of the artist