The Mnemosyne: inside Guido Corbisiero's curated moodboard

‍In this chapter, we present Guido Corbisiero (b. 1996), a Napoli-born artist, raised in the suburbs of Napoli’s wastelands. He recently graduated with an MA in Visual Arts from IUAV University of Venezia; his interdisciplinary practice is interested in finding sites where personal mythologies and the structures that help us craft our identities clash with each other. Working through installation, video and print, he often blurs the lines between fact and fiction, searching for ways in which the arresting, the immediate and the uncanny can coexist.

img1 (above): "The Long Walk" by Stephen King aka Richard Bachman. 

I don’t like doing things over, and I rarely find myself revisiting, rereading, or rewatching cultural works. This is the only novel I’ve read more than twice, and that’s because I’m so involved with its premise: a group of kids runs towards their deaths, competing to live for one second longer than their companions. It sounds like something only a weirdo would be into, but for me it’s the perfect coming-of-age story. I believe that, like this book, my practice also insists on searching for reasons to keep on running.

img2 (above): "Gretel" by Alex G directed by Zev Magasis.

I always use this as a reference for storytelling when working with video. The harmony between the lyrics, imagery, sound and cinematography is flawless. The lyrics tell one story, while the music video tells another, and together the two create an entirely different third one — and everything comes together because of these contrasts. The opening sequence never fails to give me chills.

img3 (above): The house where I grew up seen on Google Maps.

My parents used to run a store on the ground floor where the Garfield graffiti is. They closed the business shortly after I was born, and it has been left empty ever since. There are countless gangsta-style graffiti like that one scattered throughout the wasteland of Napoli… but why Garfield? Why dressed like Tony Montana? And why so close to my house? After seeing it every day for years, it doesn’t even make me laugh anymore. It’s just haunting. A contradiction that led my whole artistic research up until now, and definitely trash graffiti at its finest.

img4 (above): “Zanardi 2 - 1984-1988” by Andrea Pazienza.

The goal is always to make what you want to see, say what you want to hear, and represent what you cannot put into words. Andrea Pazienza knew this, and knew how to let go of his feelings and be honest with himself while creating. Every Pazienza comic seemed to exist solely within his own personal universe, documenting his actions, thoughts and obsessions for the rest of the world to experience; humour, drama and grief coexist with understated intention and precision. Discovering his work as a teenager had the single most profound impact any artist has ever had on me—looking back, whenever I have written something, I've always tried to imitate his ability to encapsulate complex feelings into simple systems. His best lesson: the same page can make you smile and sigh.

img5 (above): “No, I’m not a Human” by Trioskaz.

I have definitely spent more than half of my life playing video games, so I am just as definitely influenced by the language of this medium. This product is the one that has stuck with me the most lately, both aesthetically and in terms of its own specificities: its visual style and writing are one and the same, and its narrative is raw and unpolished. The NPCs talk about their lives without premises or explanations; you are simply observing how the avatar copes with reality, while the boundaries between facts and the ludic dimension are completely compromised: the world is going to end, everything is destroyed, everyone is fucked up, and the player is there to witness how others find beauty in tragedy.

img6 (above): My Pinterest board is a remix of these three images: it’s my current state.

Last year I moved back to Napoli to live with my parents, and I felt like a clown, always with my face covered, thinking I was even sleeping with a mask. Back to being a dog. I went from bobo students and old ladies dressed by French designers to kids on scooters in fake GCDS. From Venetian Gothic to abandoned housing projects. It’s like déjà vu all over again.

img7 (above): “Soul on Fire” by Dean Blunt.

I always end up listening to this album when I’m working even though I never plan to. The way the songs leave behind a blurred context, lyrics in medias res, a meaning that always seems to slip away. There is something underneath, and it’s all explicit. Incredible record.

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