The incipit of these latest works is the need to explore the reproduction in nature, the patterns.
 I took repetition as a meditative exercise in which I try to mentally maintain an image for as long as possible. When my meditative faculties fail, and I cannot maintain a clean and unified thought, so the mental image turns into another meaning.  This inability of the human mind to keep itself stable and clean 
is the backstage of these images. Why are we so mentally vulnerable?

Alberi, monti e fughe.

Alberi Monti e Partenze 

The painting is composed of three strips of paper joined together, thus it is part of the series of triptychs. The extended surface allows me to experiment with large, energetic brush movements. In this work I used my performative background, in an action painting experimentation. The starting point is the consideration of water as a conductor of sensations. I am fascinated by the ability of matter to carry intangible feelings within itself. A surprising proof of how intangible reality modifies tangible one.

Rimpianto- Commozione-Pioggia

It turns out that my husband was born in Vsetaty, in the village of Jan Palach, the famous student who committed suicide by burning himself alive, in 1969, as a protest against the Russian invasion of the Czechoslovakia. The work was realized in the village of Vsetaty, in an ordinary boring afternoon, as Jan might have experienced. Here I tried to imagine the inner life of this boy: young, perhaps shy and introverted, coming from a tiny village. This guy in the simplicity of his daily life made a gesture so great as to mark the meaning of the protest in the West, to expand the importance of the role of young people in society; a gesture so powerful that it still inspires us today to reflect on our stubborn contemporary individuality.

Depression from Vsetaty

The painting is composed of three strips of paper joined together. This work constitutes one of my first attempt with Triptychs.
The paint is about the constant movement of North African populations across the European continent, through the Mediterranean Sea. The main colours are the blue of the water, the black of the skin and the red of the blood.
Colours were scratched onto the paper quickly, they mix and contrast to synthesize without words a story that is difficult to unravel, such as the one we have been observing for years around the Mediterranean.
As a granddaughter of Istrian refugees and a woman from southern Italy, I want to recall here the double price of immigration: the pain of moving but also its possible positive implications.


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Uma Haime

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