The Art of Emptiness: Reflections on Carlo Cossignani's Visual Illusions that Challenges Perception

Carlo Cossignani is an italian born artist whose multidisciplinary practice spans painting, sculpture, and site-specific installations. His work is shaped by a fluid dialogue with experimental cinema and the underground electronic music scene, resulting in performative films and audiovisual collaborations presented at major international festivals.

Recently, Cossignani has returned to exploring physical space, creating exhibitions such as A New Perspective at Triennale di Milano and La Galleria Nazionale in Rome, and Notturno at Palazzo Hercolani Bonora in Bologna. Selected for Milano Drawing Week 2022 by the Ramo Collection, he lives and works in Milan.

At the core of his work lies an ongoing meditation on emptiness—not as lack, but as fertile ground. Cossignani reclaims voids as generative spaces that hold tension, presence, and possibility. His delicate watercolours blur figuration and abstraction; the longer you look, the more emerges—dancers, mythologies, suggestions of bodies rendered in shifting washes.

Influenced by ancient philosophies and contemporary science alike, he sees emptiness not in opposition to fullness, but as its vital complement. His pieces invite a slow, active gaze, urging the viewer to participate in discovery rather than consume passively.

In this RED-EYE interview, Cossignani reflects on the invisible forces that shape perception and reality. His work becomes a mirror, where what is absent is just as telling as what is seen. Emptiness, in his vision, becomes a space to feel, reflect, and perhaps—start again.

*courtesy Tempesta Gallery and the artist*

Hello Carlo, we are very glad to have you onboard with Red Eye. We found profoundly interesting your approach to duality in art as your work emphasizes dual aspects of reality, including presence and absence, light and shadow. Can you elaborate on how you consciously manage these dichotomies in your creative process? What methods or philosophies guided your exploration of these dualities and how do you decide which aspects to highlight when it came to your series ''Speak to me in a floating way'' showcased at Tempesta Gallery in 2023 ?

Hi Mira and RED EYE team, thanks for the interview and for involving me!

I would start by telling you that duality, in my work as in reality, is not a concept to be resolved, but in fact a dimension to be inhabited. I have always perceived duality as an essential condition of things and of our nature.

If, as often happens, Eastern philosophies are the ones most commonly attributable to this dichotomous idea of the world, in the West what emerges in the scientific field is not so different, if you think for example of the discoveries of contemporary physics regarding matter and antimatter or about the void. What I do in fact, more or less consciously, is always take into consideration the two sides of the coin trying to highlight the relationships that arise from them. This is how the works take shape. A kind of construction method that sees the work as the result of this exchange. It is in the way of proceeding that I am aware, less in the result. The aspects that emerge and the themes covered become clear along the way.

In “Speak to me in a floating way” the works on paper are full of floating shapes and figures that mix between the full and empty spaces, the steel sculptures are inspired in their shapes by pointed arches but become similar to kites or jellyfish floating in space. For the occasion I thought of the installation as an extension of the works themselves. Everything was floating, in a place that recalled a sacred but alien dimension, like entering a church but at the same time an operating room. Even in that case the will was to reach a dialogue between opposite dimensions that did not cancel each other out but fed each other.

Regarding the exploration of the role of the void, you describe it as a dynamic and evolving substance that influences the shapes and forms in your art. How do you conceptualize the void during your artistic practice, and what significance does it hold for you in terms of shaping the viewer's understanding? In what ways does invoking the void enhance the emotional depth and complexity of your works?

As you mentioned, emptiness is never absence, but a living, pulsating matter. It is a place of possibility. When I work, I let it intervene as an active element that dialogues with the visible forms, deforms them, invites them to change.

It seems obvious, but it would be enough for the observer to take this element into account as much as the rest. To consider those "missing" areas as parts of the work, where often you can see more figures or information than in the rest.

Only in this way can you access a complete reading of the work and understand how that emptiness is actually a counter-narrative that supports the visible one.

More simply, without that emptiness my work would not stand up.

In your artworks, we can perceive fragility as a fundamental element of perception. How do you believe this fragility influences the emotional response of the viewer? Can you discuss specific techniques or materials you employ to communicate this sense of delicacy and how you ensure that it becomes a pivotal aspect of your artwork?

All relationships live suspended on temporary and changing points of equilibrium. Fragility is the constituent property of these points. So from time to time I use techniques and languages that can best highlight this aspect. Watercolor for example, due to its unstable, transparent nature, allows me to make fragility tangible.

I work with light overlaps or barely perceptible glazes in contrast with areas of strong chromatic depth, recreating an illusory control of forms on something uncontrollable like water and pigment.

The same illusory control that humans think they have over events. This creates a tension in the process that I find extremely attractive. I hope that the observer faced with this very vulnerable construction of the image can reach a dimension of disorientation.

Your watercolors have been described as abstract yet narrative in quality by Philipp Hindahl. What is your approach to integrating narrative elements into your abstract work without imposing a rigid storyline? How do you balance the freedom of abstraction with the subtleties of emotional storytelling in your pieces?

If you look at one of my watercolors, it can be considered abstract only if you observe it in its compositional totality. But if you delve deeper, you notice how the fragments that compose it are recognizable, familiar forms. Mostly figures, organs, shreds of nature connected to each other that open up to multiple narratives with specific and recurring themes. The plot is not rigid because it is multiple, as are the thoughts and interpretations that cross the mind when faced with something unexpected. The interweaving of these narratives ultimately defines the final composition, to the point of making it abstract. It is an interdependent relationship in this case too. That of the individual with the whole.

We can perceive the deep interaction between space and architecture in your series Drawing On Big Scale presented by O’ no profit space in Milan in 2015. In your sculptural works, you create unique spatial forms that challenge traditional architectural boundaries. Can you discuss your intentions behind incorporating architectural references and how you imagine the relationship between your sculptures and their surrounding environments? How does this interaction influence the viewer’s experience of the space?

I believe that architecture in a broad sense should be understood as the principle that organizes things, their skeleton, whether it is space, thought or a neural network.

In this sense all my works are structured as architectures, but in sculpture the references become more explicit also on a formal level. I often start from architectural elements such as pillars, arches or scaffolding.

If in drawing I build, in sculpture I dismantle. I take pre-established elements and empty them of their function, offering them a new destination.

I think of space as a breathing body, where sculptures are not closed objects, but open organisms, traversable, in dialogue with what surrounds them. Drawing On Big Scale is one of the first operations of this kind, an attempt to relate the work as much as possible to the space. The space becomes part of the work, the canvas where the drawing is inserted. The observer finds himself moving within a system that welcomes him without trapping him.

I believe that architecture in a broad sense should be understood as the principle that organizes things, their skeleton, whether it is space, thought or a neural network.

If in drawing I build, in sculpture I dismantle. I take pre-established elements and empty them of their function, offering them a new destination.

Regarding the viewer's engagement and feelings, your works encourage contemplation and invite the viewer to participate in the act of interpretation. How do you imagine the ideal interaction between your artwork and the audience? What role do you hope the viewer will play in the completion of your work, and how do you think this interaction enhances the meaning of the artwork?

Thank you for this question Mira. Because up to now I have conceptualized and described more than anything the method of construction of my images, their architecture precisely.

However, feeling plays an equally fundamental role in my work, especially in paintings. The emotional sphere is the element that guides the narration and determines its contents. As mentioned, I never know exactly what a work is about unless I am doing it along the way. Sometimes it happens that I myself realize the theme is addressed only when the entire cycle of work is completed. I hope that this aspect also emerges in the viewer, and that he becomes a participant while remaining free to find readings that complete the work. If this exchange does not occur, the work has not done its job.

Your recent works explore fluidity and changeability, the theme of change, particularly regarding the representation of the body. How does this theme of fluidity reflect broader ideas about identity and perception in contemporary society? What insights do you gain from employing such themes in your work, and how do they resonate with your personal journey as an artist?

The nature of things is changeable, as is the necessary condition for things to exist. The body, like all places, is subject to the pressures of time and space, of internal movements and those of the context or culture in which it is placed. Fluidity is therefore an existential condition to deal with, even before being aesthetic. The body has its own feeling, and certainly we cannot speak of a fixed or linear scheme, today more than ever, it is a place of transition, of transformation. In my recent works I try to convey this instability as a generative force, not as a fragility to be corrected. My figures cannot be traced back to a specific gender or identity. Identity is also a legacy or derivation of a certain past, but on a large scale it is never a fixed point, but a movement. This dialogues deeply with my personal experience, with the way I perceive myself, others, time. Through forms that change, that fall apart and recompose themselves, I try to convey that subtle truth that dwells in metamorphosis.

Regarding the symbolism of numbers, in your artwork titles, you use numbers that relate to dream or unconscious interpretations. How do these numerical titles guide the viewer’s understanding of your work? What significance do dreams and their interpretations hold in your artistic vision, and how do they contribute to the thematic richness of your pieces?

The oniric dimension plays an important role in my case, often it is in the state of half-sleep that many intuitions emerge. Then the work begins, I start from an element that will generate the following element, and so on, until the final composition is built. This “involuntary” construction of the work means that the theme and the subjects present themselves along the way and this has something very dreamlike, you cannot write the script of a dream beforehand, the dream just happens. And dreams are interpretable, they have different readings. Hence, the desire to declare my reading without influencing that of the observer. I simply look for the number that corresponds to the theme that emerges from the work in the interpretation of dreams and I use it as a title.

Your way to reflect a certain visual language into sculpture blurs the line between architecture and organic forms. Can you discuss your use of materials, particularly the contrasting attributes of paper and steel? How does this material choice influence the relationship between the physical and metaphorical dimensions of your work?

Materials are never simply tools, but carriers of meaning. Using materials as different as paper and steel allows me to explore deep tensions and give life to paradoxes.

Paper has a subtle memory, it absorbs the gesture, it vibrates at the slightest touch, a fragile material that in my sculptures becomes solid, a structural element. Steel, on the other hand, has an intrinsic strength but is brought back to a light and suspended design. Putting them in dialogue means talking about interior contrasts, of bodies that seek balance between structure and yielding. This material dialogue also reflects the metaphorical one: the work moves between what is visible and what is evoked, between real and virtual.

Regarding the intersection of observation, you touch upon the intricate dynamic between the observer and the observed, notably in the context of presence and absence. How do you see this relationship evolving in your work, especially in our current era of heightened observation and consumption? What challenges or revelations have you experienced while exploring this theme?

The relationship between the observer and the observed is more complex than ever today. It is true, we are in the era of overexposure, completely documentable and spendable. In this context, where everything is staged, I find the role of absence very interesting. My research reflects this ambiguity: on the one hand the urgency, the cry of presence, on the other the apparent silence of absence. But as we said, absence is not. What we are defining as absence in my work is the unsaid, what moves underneath, the counterpart. What could be the unconscious in psychology, does it not determine more than the conscious very often?

Today’s cultural landscape is dominated by digital technology and rapid media consumption. How do you see your work standing apart or engaging with these trends? Do you perceive tension or lightness between your material-based approach and the virtual experiences that define the art world? How do your explorations of void and presence speak to or challenge these contemporary narratives?

My work only apparently moves against the trend, I think. It is certainly technically slower than the speed of digital content. Matter needs time, and emptiness becomes a way to slow down, to escape saturation. However, I am not at all unaware of the virtual dimension, the use of emptiness is an example of this. Nor are my works less crowded with content than scrolling on a phone: it fascinates me as a field of investigation, as a mirror of our era. My goal is not to resist, but to offer a sensorial and perceptive alternative. A place where absence can be ‘’presence’’.

As you look to the future, what specific themes or concepts are you eager to explore in your upcoming projects? Are there materials or innovative techniques you are excited to experiment with that may add new dimensions to your work? Furthermore, how do you envision the evolution of your artistic practice in relation to your ongoing interest in dualities? Are there potential collaborations or interdisciplinary approaches that you believe could enrich your work and expand its dialogue with audiences?

Looking ahead, the themes covered are so broad that the urgency is certainly to delve deeper into them, but the will is to extend the possibilities of application, possibly to get out of them and make their translation increasingly fluid and less rigid. There are many ideas in the pipeline that I can’t wait to realize. Lately I’ve been working on projects that involve installations on an urban scale. Others that involve sound, voice and interaction as an extension of the visual gesture. Dualities, for me, remain an inexhaustible field: I often think about the relationship between human and non-human, between natural and artificial. I have already extended my collaborations with figures in other fields but I would like to intensify these collaborations with choreographers, sound artists, or scientific researchers. I am fascinated by hybridizations even when I apparently work only on a specific theme or technique.

Your recent collaboration with fashion designer Daniel Core merges the worlds of visual art and fashion. Can you elaborate on the nature of this collaboration and how your artistic philosophies intersect? What does it mean for you to translate your explorations of duality, presence, and absence into the realm of wearable art? How has this partnership influenced your understanding of your own work and provided new avenues for artistic expression? Additionally, what do you hope audiences will take away from experiencing this fusion of art and fashion?

The collaboration with Daniel Del Core was born from a shared vision. I believe that the main point is precisely the obsession for the structure of things. We both work in depth on the construction of the form.

His creations for example, especially for couture, are very organic, they are mainly inspired by nature but hide a meticulous study of the skeleton that supports the final appearance of the dress.

On that occasion Daniel had created a new collection of accessories, bags specifically. The idea was for me to compare myself with these creations. They had very interesting, alien shapes, they almost seemed like pieces of exoskeletons. At that point I immediately thought of using his creations directly to transform them into something else that at the same time concerned them, bringing them back to what he had perhaps been inspired by to create them. I designed steel skeletons that could act as a seat to be able to set his creations and arrange them in a certain position. So as to transform them into insect sculptures.

I think the most interesting and successful thing is that the final sculptures, even though they are made only with bags, take on their own presence and specific form where the bags themselves disappear. Only by examining them closely can you perceive that the various elements are all accessories, exactly as we said about my watercolors, abstract overall but if you get closer everything is a figure.

The very idea of presenting insects in a luxury context, elegant but at the same time somehow repellant, was a contrasting operation that I enjoyed a lot. Applying my explorations in this area was quite natural but also surprising. I have always thought of a certain type of research in the world of clothing as very fascinating. The body, in fashion as in art, is always center and periphery at the same time: it can become a support but also the origin of an extension. Thinking of clothes as prostheses fascinates me a lot.

These collaborations help to consider unforeseen possibilities. I believe that art can inhabit different spaces and interact with other languages freely. Transforming a dress or an object into a poetic experience should already be in the intentions of a designer who can be defined as such, but I think that the public can remain fascinated and amused when these fusions of languages manage to take this concept to the extreme.

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