Roberto Cuoghi: CASTELLO DI RIVOLI.
Verzotti, Giorgio
Roberto Cuoghi's recent exhibition, "Suillakku,"
consisted of a large sculpture, Pazuzu (all works 2008), at the bottom
of the museum's seventeenth-century staircase and a complex sound
installation, Suillakku, that occupied the entire third floor of the
building. "Suillakku" designates a choral prayer position
practiced among the ancient Assyrians, whose civilization Cuoghi has
studied in depth. The Assyrians built the first great empire in ancient
times, one that lasted for centuries but was destroyed quickly by the
Median and Babylonian armies early in the seventh century bc. The
vestiges of Nineveh, the empire's capital, were not discovered
until the nineteenth century, after being shrouded in silence for
hundreds of years.
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
Perhaps drawn to this sudden disappearance and long oblivion,
Cuoghi approached the Assyrians through study but also imagination.
Knowing that music played an important role in their culture, for
many months he reconstructed the instruments they might have used,
basing his research in part on bas-reliefs brought to light by
excavation. Cuoghi built instruments out of wood or animal horns; with
the help of a luthier he created a large lyre out of cedar wood and
sheep gut. For nearly a year, working every day, alone and without being
a musicologist or a musician, he played these instruments and recorded
and edited their sounds, creating a large-scale orchestration.
Since he had no historical documents, Cuoghi worked deductively. In
order to write the music, he constructed a score similar to the
lamentations of the ancient Hebrews, described in the Old Testament and
probably based on Babylonian models, which in turn were influenced by
the Assyrians. The artist focused on the end of the empire, imagining
the Assyrians who had escaped their enemies and joined with a priest to
implore the gods for help. Their voices, however, are neither mournful nor meek but rather furious and aggressive; the chanting and music are
deafening. Suillakku is a deliberately disturbing musical score that
cannot help but make a profound impression on visitors, who are invited
to move about in the space, continually assaulted by the barbaric sounds
(instruments, voices, noises, even animal sounds: a strangely
contemporary piece of music) that surround them. Cuoghi, whose earlier
sound pieces were attempts at "remaking" African or Chinese
songs, has reached a new level with this staggering experience. The
artist modeled the accompanying nineteen-foot-tall sculpture of Pazuzu,
a Mesopotamian demon also used as an amulet to ward off other demons, on
a six-inch-high bronze statuette of this creature in the Louvre. Facing
outward, Cuoghi's statue reminds us that the antiquity he evokes
is, in reality, an invitation to reflect on our own era and on the
tragedies that fill our history right up to the present.
--Giorgio Verzotti
Translated from Italian by Marguerite Shore.