For years, every day, Luigi Lineri has walked along the Adige in search of stones. Perhaps the river itself beckons him, asking him to be the modern prophet who can reveal to the world the truth written in its pebbles. In the mid-1960s, Lineri noticed that some of the small rocks that have supported the watercourse for millennia, although smoothed by the incessant passage of time and water, still bear the traces of some primitive artist’s attempts at sculpture.
Since then, Lineri has collected and categorized stones by shape: human profiles and silhouettes, animal heads and muzzles, work tools.
Born in Zevio, Verona, Lineri is a poet as well as an artist, and has said he started looking for stones “to satisfy a push, an instinct, a wish that were impossible to explain, impossible to penetrate, almost on the borderline with folly – because walking along the Adige, one afternoon, your eyes don’t dwell on the sunset, the flowing water or your own feelings, but instead, half-serious and half-playful, look down and mix at the quiet layer of rocks, entering a strange dialog between man and stone, past and present, as your heart marvels at the repetition of certain shapes…”
Here is Luigi Lineri’s poetry in stones.