Introductory Notes
The symbol of the Labyrinth has long fascinated a wide range of disciplines, and the reason it remains so deeply resonant in the human imagination lies primarily in the significance its archetype assumes from time to time.
The common conception of the labyrinth, the one we traditionally refer to when imagining what it is, derives from the classical tradition, spanning from its origins through the Middle Ages. In this view, the labyrinth takes on a unicursal form: the maze consists essentially of a single path that winds toward a center, from which one can then easily find the way out by turning 180 degrees on oneself.
Kabbalistic tradition, on the other hand, has ascribed an additional meaning to the labyrinth, giving it the form of concentric circles interrupted at several points, creating greater difficulty for those who attempt to traverse it.
The influence of Catholicism during the Baroque period marked the labyrinth’s final transformation. It became an exceptionally intricate tangle, nearly impossible to navigate, and took on the traits of perdition and error.
Regardless of how one approaches the labyrinth, one is always compelled to undertake a strenuous quest toward the center, which, depending on the form and the seeker, can represent entirely different things.
It is possible to imagine the center as the truth, whose attainment brings clarity to doubt. Or it may be viewed as the place where the inner conflicts of the human soul are made manifest, embodying good and evil, positive and negative, spirit and beast. From the clash of these two forces, a person might eventually find their way out of the labyrinth.
What proves particularly fascinating is the way in which human beings envision a path, both decisional and emotional, through the intricate maze, ultimately striving to reach a “light.” For Theseus, the hero who slew the Minotaur imprisoned in the labyrinth of Crete, that light was represented by Ariadne. For the ordinary person, it may be reason.
And yet, if after so many centuries this figure still retains such a powerful impact and significance, it is because humanity is always in search of something, even when the center of the labyrinth is the innermost part of one’s own being. At times, in fact, the terrible beast is nothing more than a reflection of the self, that fragment of humanity each person wishes at all costs to eliminate from their personality.
Specifically, all the notions previously expressed are embodied in the formation of this composition, whose evolution echoes the strategies employed by the boldest architects in designing their labyrinths.
Here, then, more than the network of tunnels, interrupted paths, and the difficulties encountered en route to the center, what remains of utmost importance is the concept of the search itself. On one hand, this search aims to find a form of expression adequate in meaning and communicative power; on the other, it is expressed as an entanglement, a retreat into something familiar that remains nonetheless unknown.
Thus, the ongoing pursuit of meaning, or simply the desire to satisfy curiosity or the need for knowledge, is portrayed here as the singular effort of an entity seeking to compete, only to eventually discover its own conclusion or completion.
Giovanni Scapecchi
