
A new work every week, in a gallery among the olive trees and the trulli: white walls, windows onto the field, and the unique light of Puglia.

This is how Plato, in the Timaeus, describes chōra. It is the name we have given to this sign: a square crossed by two diagonals. The sign is far older than the name: it already appears on a Babylonian clay tablet some 3,700 years old, perhaps a schoolboy's exercise, and along one diagonal is written the square root of two. A closed field, crossed by a measure without end. The initials of the artist who is at home here, Nicola Zucchi, draw it on their own: the N traces the vertical sides and one diagonal, the Z the horizontal sides and the other. The square thus becomes a field of possibilities, where works, people and imagination meet, collide, come into tune.





In CHORA the works of a constellation of artists take on a body — Olivia Stark, Giuseppe Chiron, Sam Vancoiver, Fab Bacon — each with a biography, a poetics, critics who write about them. They are heteronyms of Nicola Zucchi, à la Pessoa: every name brings its own viewpoint, and writes what the others could not say. They put together things that already exist — a baby's onesie, a button, a wire, a dressmaker's bust, a miniature — until they become a work. “It's a small, organised madness that keeps me company,” says Nicola, “and it opens creative paths I couldn't conceive with my only identity.”

The rooms of Masseria LoJazzo are conceived as works of art, a mise en espace in which you play the lead. The same spaces are also places of exhibition, discreet and playful ones: in your room there is a View-Master with its reel, a photographic exhibition you visit on your own, facing the light, one image at a time.

A stereoscopic reportage on the game of bocce, an old sport made of waiting, silences, dust and trajectories. In the View-Master each scene comes back in relief.
immersed in art.
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