THE STORY OF FULVIO MORELLA’S STELLAR BRAILLE: A CURTAIN ONTO INFINITY
| by Sabino Maria Frassà |
In the poetics of Fulvio Morella, embroidery does not illustrate, does not decorate, does not embellish: it writes. It writes for those who do not see with their eyes but continue to see with the heart, within that ‘invisible to the eye’ from The Little Prince, which has accompanied the artist since childhood as a silent truth, never rhetorical, rooted in an emotional education to care for the other. Above all, it writes to bring closer, to include without declaring it, to offer without imposing.
The gesture of Fulvio Morella does not arise as a critical statement nor as an ideological stance: it emerges as an act of love and profound humanism, as an authentic desire to share a language that excludes no one. With his stellar braille, Morella does not oppose sight to touch; rather, he restores to the hand – and to the human being in its most intimate essence – a long-forgotten dignity, offering a slow and welcoming temporality in which the work can be encountered without haste and without intimidation.

Because we are also our hands, not just the fleeting appearance reflected in our eyes: we are what we do, even before what we see, say, or believe we understand. In this way, thread becomes a tool of closeness, the textile surface a place of encounter, and language an experience that does not fade away, but stays with us over time.
In his artistic journey, the decisive shift is not the most conspicuous one – from turned wood to braille, and then to stars – but the quieter and more radical transition: the introduction of textile. It is within the textile fiber that Morella finds the possibility of introducing the veil he had been searching for, not to conceal but to protect; not to deny sight, but to allow for another, deeper way of seeing – not only his work, but reality itself.
The artist was searching for a curtain – this was the word he used, miming the gesture of making his way through it – to be crossed with the hands; for a threshold that compels the viewer to slow down, to trust, to feel and experience before seeing. Textile thus enters his poetics as a gesture of empathy: what at first appears to be an obstacle is transformed into trust in the other, into an awareness of one’s own limits and those of others, becoming an invitation to an experience that asks not for performance, but for openness and receptivity (…)
FULL ARTICLE IS INCLUDED IN ATLAS – CHAPTER ONE, AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE AT WWW.AL3VIEATC.COM/SHOP/ATLAS-CAPITOLO-UNO/ OR BY CLICKING ON THE COVER



