The whole of Stefano Di Stasio's work appears in its pictorial evidence as a decalogue of translatable and understandable elements.
The vision of the work appears clear and decipherable, the less accustomed would say that "you understand".
Then, immediately after the global grasp of his vision, the temptation is to separate every pictorial element from it and analyze it individually, translate it into an alphabet understandable to us and secondarily bring it back to the symbolism of our literary, religious and mythological tradition.
These symbols, more or less current, give, in addition to the formal and aesthetic reading, also a deeper and less evident one that is immediately connected to our personal culture and experience.
All his work is informative, detailed in detail, evident in the representation. Yet, being faced with this always coherent stylistic evolution, one is tempted to approach it as an archaeologist in front of the hieroglyphs and, not having a Rosetta stone available for their deciphering, one is under the illusion of being able to interpret these worlds, populated with beautiful images, and give them an accomplished meaning. Now, an interpretative key should be found for the entire corpus of works which, for over forty years, has been exhibited in galleries and museums. The analysis of every single work is obviously frightening because the symbologies contained and the more or less evident quotations are too many to be able to give a coherent reading and, the more we introduce ourselves into their interpretation, the more we find ourselves at the starting point. Suddenly, the whole corpus appears as a labyrinth - be it that of Palmanova or that of Franco Maria Ricci in Masone inspired by Borges - built with a single entrance door but multiple ways out.
It therefore appears evident that the interpretation of each single work is misleading, meaningless if not linked to the previous one and to the consequent one, in which, as in a game of mirrors, as in a chain, each work is re ected and linked in the other, to find truthful correspondences to a charade built on lies. Here then is that the lie appears even more true when it is reiterated and reiterated. Its construction is supported by clues that are confirmed only in themselves and, as soon as we depart, we no longer find any support to read and interpret the painting in front of us.