Novo Hamburgo 1958

Aldo Locatelli's 'Novo Hamburgo' seems to whisper from another time, painted directly onto the wall with the kind of faded hues that make you think of frescoes. The angels almost dissolve into the surface, their forms emerging gently, like memories. I imagine Locatelli up there on scaffolding, coaxing these figures into being. What was he thinking about, as he blended those watery blues and yellows, making the angels look so soft and yielding? Their faces are turned inward, lost in contemplation, and it's as though Locatelli wanted to capture a sense of grace, of something just beyond our reach. There’s this one angel, see, with the wing just so, cradling another. That gesture alone speaks volumes about comfort, protection, and the kind of tenderness that only paint can truly capture. It reminds me of other artists who've grappled with similar themes of devotion, like Giotto. It's like they’re all in conversation, these artists, across centuries. They show us how painting is this way of connecting—with ourselves, with each other, and with something larger than us all.