NINA AND EMILIA

Nina, 2025 bronze, 30 x 15 x 18 cm

Nina, 2025 (left side)

Nina and Emilia, 2025, bronze

Emilia, 2025, bronze, 30 x 16 x 19 cm

Emilia, 2025 (left side)

Emilia, 2025 (detail)

IT’S GONNA BE ALRIGHT

It’s gonna be alright, installation view at ECC Project Space, Chieri IT

When the Sun Revolved Round Us (again), 2022, bronze (unique), 183x 110x 5cm, 30kg

It’s gonna be alright, installation view at ECC Project Space, Chieri IT

She Changes Everything She Touches, 2022, bronze (unique), 175x 110x 6 cm, 30kg

Rimbaud, 2022, bronze (unique), 39x 57x 3cm, 8kg

NOBODY MOVE (BOOK)

This book is released in occasion of the exhibition:
Simone Zaccagnini
Nobody Move
September 3 - October 2, 2021
Galerie Derouillon, Paris FR

Title: Nobody Move
Language: EN
Book Pages: 40 + 16 Insert
Soft Cover/ Removable 
Dimensions: Book 170 X 230 mm, Insert 110 X 170 mm, Removable Cover 675 X 230 mm
Texts: Fonderia Battaglia, Christina Gigliotti, Simone Zaccagnini
Photos: Grégory Copitet, Simone Zaccagnini
Edition of 200
Year: 2021

Nobody Move

Brighter Days, 2021, bronze cast, 87x 75x 15 cm

Nobody Move, installation view at Galerie Derouillon, Paris FR

Nobody Move, installation view at Galerie Derouillon, Paris FR

Open Studio, Fonderia Battaglia, Milan IT

A Purple Fog, 2021, bronze cast, 87x 80x 15 cm

Open Studio, Fonderia Battaglia, Milan IT

Nobody Move, 2021, bronze cast, 85x 85x 17 cm

Nobody Move, installation view at Galerie Derouillon, Paris FR

Open Studio, Fonderia Battaglia, Milan IT

6 in the Morning (Let ’em Bounce), 2021, bronze cast, 153x 110x 15 cm

Of Dog and Men, 2021, bronze cast, 100x 73x 23 cm

Nobody Move, installation view at Galerie Derouillon, Paris FR

Open Studio, Fonderia Battaglia, Milan IT

Lonely Dancer, 2021, bronze cast, 84x 80x 8 cm

Open Studio, Fonderia Battaglia, Milan IT

The Way You Move, 2021, bronze cast, 75x 70x 15 cm

Open Studio, Fonderia Battaglia, Milan IT

LOAFING AROUND (Book)

Simone Zaccagnini
Loafing Around

Language: EN
Book Pages: 112
Dimension: 188 X 247 mm
Edition of 200
Year: 2021

Loafing Around

Brother from Another Mother, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 61 x 47 x 4 cm

Barefoot, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 69 x 61 x 7 cm

Easy Lover, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 60 x 49 x 3 cm

Loafing Around, 2020, bronze cast (unique) 85 x 76 x 12 cm

In the Heat of the Night, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 51 x 43 x 8 cm

The Sheltering Sky, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 52 x 45 x 10 cm

(Hallo) Berliner Laziness, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 64 x 49 x 7 cm

Walking Down the Street, 2020 bronze (unique) 66 x 51 x 9 cm

Way You Walk, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 72 x 70 x 4 cm

At the Hotel, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 75 x 74 x 7 cm

Breezy, 2020 bronze cast (unique) 65 x 49 x 4 cm

Artists Don’t Live That Long

Artists Don’t Live That Long, shown as part of Hex 2016 at Bergen Kunsthall, Bergen (NO)

Artists Don’t Live That Long, 2015/ 2016 shaped wood, foam and enamel, 800 x 390 x 15 cm

HEX 2016, Bergen Kunsthall, Bergen NO

NEOMELODICA NEAPOLITANISCHE  MUSIK EINFLÜSSE AUF DIE KUNST  DER LETZTEN 10 JAHRE VON EMIL & GELB

NEOMELODICA NEAPOLITANISCHE MUSIK EINFLÜSSE AUF DIE KUNST DER LETZTEN 10 JAHRE VON EMIL & GELB

Language: En / De

Dimension: 250 x 250 mm

Pages: 24

ISBN: 978-88-97889-17-5

Edition of 599 copies
Year: 2015

Published by: Cura

Produced by Untitled Association and Frankfurt am Main

CREDITS
Ideated and Curated by: Gianluca Concialdi & Emiliano Pistacchi
Text by: Nino Ferretti
Images: Simone Zaccagnini

INFO+-

Simone Zaccagnini

b. 1982, Italy

inquiries:

Galerie Derouillon

contact@derouillon.com

© 2025

LINKS+-

TEXTS+-

Christina Gigliotti

CHRISTINA GIGLIOTTI

Nobody Move, solo show, Galerie Derouillon, Paris FR

There’s an elevator in my building. It’s uselessly small, wooden-paneled, and won’t move unless you press with all your body weight against the accordion doors so that the outdated censor understands they’re really, truly closed. Over the past month I’ve made countless trips up and down, packed in with my belongings or friends, hunching over and laughing out of awkwardness. When I’m alone in there I read what people have scribbled onto the walls and ceilings. Casual greetings, declarations of love, frustrations, initials, and illegible, calligraphic marks. Pascal loves Rachel. CSKA ‘99. The elevator doors open and I step out. They shut on the chattering remarks which are then quiet again.

The title of Simone Zaccagnini’s exhibition is Nobody Move, and I feel as though it could have also been called Always Already Gone. The concept of something or someone being always already gone, is that, despite knowing time is a constant, slow burn in one direction, we try to reside in moments, recreate them, demarcate that ‘we were here’ at least before disappearing entirely. Proust understood this–claiming that paradise exists in the past. It’s perfect and we will never get there again, though, some of us can and will dedicate our lives to trying.

For Nobody Move, Zaccagnini has populated the space of Galerie Derouillon with a new series of bronze forms that appear as gestural declarations, scribbles, musings, and the anthropomorphization of lines. A number of the figures stand or slouch within the space, while others hover over the walls. Here, the use of material, which Zaccagnini referred to as a fetish, feels like an endeavor to grasp or crystallize a normally fleeting, perhaps overlooked moment or gesture–that of the daydream or scrawling on paper, eventually landing on the side of a building or elevator door. Nobody Move–let’s try to hold the moment hostage for a little while longer.

Cristina Gigliotti

Scott Henry Elliott

Elise By Olsen

ELISE BY OLSEN

Riviera Sunset Boulevard, solo show, Galerie Derouillon, Paris FR

“I won’t send you two pages about my work, but I’ll send you my playlist and my references. I can’t write about my work, it’s complicated, it will be pretentious. I, as an artist, has a vision about something, and cannot pretend to be someone else, who has a vision about my vision. It’s not the artist’s job to try to analyze the works, it will become vulgar.

One can’t be the actor and the critic… You will have to try to contextualize it, make sense of it, put it all together”.

These are Simone’s instructions when I speak with him on Whatsapp from his car in Prenzlauer Berg in Berlin, where he sits when he needs to be alone. Usually, Simone works in a studio space that he shares with his girlfriend Anna. But he had an incident – he broke his sewing machine, which then had to be replaced – and as he bought a new, industrial one, it was, by default, delivered to his home.

“So now I had this monster installed at home”, which led to a decision of moving his studio home temporarily. “I actually prefer to work at home, it forces me to be more clean, although my home now is messy, with plastic and gummy and jackets and socks everywhere”.

He says he is not romantic per-say with his works, that he is trying to escape an obsession of how to use technique or a language. He doesn’t see art for art, music for music, painting for painting, but a diagonal line between them.

“I don’t have any symbolism in my work, that’s for sure; nothing is symbolic.
If people don’t see what it is, I tell them, it is what it is, and it might not be anything. My work should speak on its own; have its own legs, it should be able to walk alone. It has its own life (or its own career, if stuff goes well), its own price, its own house, brother and sisters and owners, and eventually it doesn’t belong to me anymore, it’s not mine.” It’s not the usual approach that art drives you into.

“Formally, I’m trying to have precise works, because although I have a punk approach, I don’t like trashy results” he says, and obviously references Jean Dubuffet and Art Brut. “Sometimes beauty and ugliness are so close. Since the renaissance people tried to have an answer for what beauty is, but beauty is a moment, something that shows itself, not something you can manage or reproduce as a medium”. I’m interested in the rather inelegant and sporty element to his work. “I don’t to any sports, I’m too lazy to make sports, I’m keeping skinny by being nervous and smoking cigarettes. Obviously I don’t know thesports world too much.” However he is interested in sports logos and logomania.

Riviera Sunset Boulevard is an installation of 10-12 works (uncertain as of this moment). The works escape all borders, forms and shapes. The materials are all chosen carefully and sourced from the Internet; the three identical Kellogg’s jackets were ordered from New Zealand, Italy and the US.
Typically, Simone would use wooden stretchers as canvas, but these have none – they’re made a bit like a soft suitcase; onto red gummy these jackets and jerseys are mounted, with logos in bright palettes (no blacks or browns or dark reds), layered with Fimo clay (typically used by kids or punks), also in intense colors. For this exhibition, Simone has looked to COBRA artists like Karel Appel and Asger Jorn, as well as Tanaka Atsuko from the Gutai collective.

Part of the idea of a sculpture is that you’re standing in front of, looking at, a monument. These new works are not monumental like sculptures normally are. They are empty inside, but have a functional structure, which allows them to be put on the couch, put on the wall, slept on. “In a way, I try to keep the functionality away. When I start working on them, they have a function, and after I have worked on them, they have no function. They are stretched until broken, they are cut”.

Apropos cut, Simone is majorly influenced by deconstruction and sampling in hiphop; tracks are cut, manipulated until it hurts something else, if you want. He sent me a playlist of Madlib, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Travis Scott and Dean Blunt. And during the time making this new body of work, an old friend of Simone’s re-appeared in his life, Dre Love, an American rapper and MC, who said of Simone’s new works they have an energy and strong references reminiscing the golden era gladness of the 90s in Jamaica, Queens, where he had grown up. And it’s precisely these nostalgic connotations to and combinations of, hiphop, 90s fashion and childishness that makes these new works so paradoxically refreshing.

Elise By Olsen