20.03.2026

IL MARMO

Do we truly know which materials we bring into our homes when we acquire a work of art? Their properties and symbolic meanings can influence the quality of our lives and, above all, our state of mind. An artwork is not made solely of ingenuity, creativity, or technique, but also of supports, binders, essences, and material details. The work of the gallerist also involves knowledge of these aspects, which often require long periods of research to be fully understood and reconstructed.

Following the first feature dedicated to wood and its use in the works of Tomonori Toyofuku, we continue this journey with a second material: marble, one of the materials used by Aiko Miyawaki in her research in the 1960s.

The Japanese artist used marble powder mixed with oil or synthetic binders, applying it onto panels to create delicately textured, almost sculptural surfaces. Through this process, she evoked the Japanese sensibility of wabi-sabi, embracing beauty in imperfection and impermanence, while engaging the viewer in a quiet dialogue of light, shadow, and material presence. In the postwar context, her work resonates as a search for balance between tradition and modernity, where even the densest matter seems to breathe with a subtle life.

Marble has long been a symbol of purity, endurance, and memory. A noble and compact material, capable of enduring through centuries without losing its identity, it represents a form of permanence that resists time, while at the same time preserving its traces. In its powdered form—fragmented and recomposed—this solidity transforms into a sensitive surface, revealing a new dimension of matter: more fragile, yet also more intimate and contemplative.

In the picture: Aiko Miyawaki, Untitled, 1964, mineral powder with binder, painted on board, detail.

ITALY–JAPAN. Japanese artists in Milan since 1960
until April 30, 2026
Corso Monforte 23, 20122, Milan

17.03.2026

Dedicated to Artists

In the morning I write, directed by Valérie Donzelli, is a film dedicated to artists—writers, painters, musicians alike.
At its center is a man who earns his living as a photographer, yet whose deepest sense of fulfillment lies in another form of art: not photography, but writing.

After publishing a few books, he begins to see himself as a writer and decides to remain one, no matter the cost. And the cost is high. His is a radical choice: mornings are devoted to his art, afternoons to exhausting, poorly paid work of any kind.

Around him are a wife and two grown children, born when he was very young, who sometimes criticize him but, above all, support him. A father and a sister provide him with minimal shelter, while remaining judgmental and irritated. Together with his editor, they constantly challenge him, gradually undermining his confidence.

It is a film where walls crumble—the opening scene, a sheetrock wall hacked apart until it collapses, becomes a perfect metaphor for the entire story—where the balconies of Paris are planted by bleeding hands, and the inner gardens of luxury homes are trimmed with shears. Ugly paintings hang on the walls; Paris itself appears almost unrecognizable.

What makes the film so compelling is that it speaks to artists about artists: the radical ones, poor and bound to survival and integrity toward their work, and the fortunate ones, supported by generous families and comfortably settled into their privilege.

16.03.2026

WOOD

Do we really know which materials we bring into our homes when we acquire a work of art? Their properties and symbolic meanings can influence the quality of our lives and, above all, our state of mind. An artwork is not only about ingenuity, creativity, or technique, but also about supports, binders, essences, and material details. Part of a gallerist’s work is precisely the knowledge of these aspects, which often require long periods of research to be fully understood.

From time to time, you will find insights on these topics here. The first focuses on the wood used by Tomonori Toyofuku in the 1960s.

The Japanese sculptor often chose mahogany for his works, drawn both to its formal qualities and its physical properties. His sculptures feature abstract, pierced forms and recurring oval motifs, achieved through a process of carving and perforation that creates an intense dialogue between solids and voids. Mahogany—durable yet relatively easy to work—allowed him to create deep cuts and precise cavities while preserving the structural integrity of the piece. Its warm tone, regular grain, and smooth surface further enhance the relationship between light, form, and space that defines his sculptural research.

Mahogany is widely regarded as a symbol of strength, stability, and reliability. A solid and resilient wood, its remarkable hardness and resistance to warping in humid conditions make it a powerful metaphor for an inner strength that does not falter in the face of adversity.

In the picture: Tomonori Toyofuku, Untitled, 1987, carved wood, 42 × 23 × 18 cm. Detail.

ITAlY-JAPAN. Japanese artists in Milan since 1960s
until 30 April 2026
Corso Monforte 23, 20122, Milan

10.03.2026

Rental Family: Japan and the Architecture of Feelings

We chose Rental Family, directed by the Japanese filmmaker Hirari, for four key reasons.
1. Tokyo: vast yet intimate
Through the film, we explore Tokyo by entering its homes, restaurants, and private spaces.
2. The delicate beauty of small things
Among these moments is a hanger decorated with colorful, transparent jellyfish crafted from plastic bottles by a beautiful little girl.
3. Relationships and distance
The film reflects how human connections are shaped by the physical and emotional distance between people. The space that separates us often defines who we become in the eyes of others.
4. Pure aesthetics and visual storytelling
Rental Family is a theatre of life. Takurô Ishizaka’s cinematography first captures emotional coldness through cool, blue tones, then gradually warms up as the characters transform. Every frame feels like a painting, and together with the soundtrack, it creates a film within the film. In the end, what stays with the viewer are houses, tree roots, small backpacks, intimate interiors—images that collectively shape the identity of the characters.
This film resonates with us because every object, color, and shape we bring into our homes marks us and speaks about who we are to others.

09.03.2026

Studio Gariboldi at Salon d’Art Genève

On the occasion of Art Genève 2026, Bilan Magazine dedicated an article to the Salon d’Art. In this case, it is not words but images that speak about us.

Photographer Laurent Guiraud captured a shot on the reflective surface of an artwork placed in front of our stand. The result? You can clearly see a painting by Katsumi Nakai hanging on the wall and a sculpture by Tomonori Toyofuku in the foreground.

Respectively:

Katsumi Nakai, Untitled, late 1970s, acrylic on shaped wood, 57 × 57 cm
Tomonori Toyofuku, Untitled, 1985, shaped wood, 115 × 85 × 6 cm

Below is the Italy–Japan press review

06.03.2026

Katsumi Nakai at MAMCO, Art Genève 2026

We are pleased to announce that the work Object 46-104 by Katsumi Nakai has been acquired by the MAMCO – Musée d’art moderne et contemporain in Geneva.

The work was part of the solo exhibition Katsumi Nakai. Flying High and of the project Italy-Japan, Japanese Artists in Milan since 1960. Katsumi Nakai was born in 1927 in Hirakata, in Osaka Prefecture. His journey eventually led him to Milan, a city that deeply impressed him and became the final stop of his journey “following the sun.” Nakai was close to the circle of artists that the art critic Guido Ballo in 1967 defined as the “Nuova Scuola di Milano.” Among them he met Tomonori Toyofuku and Lucio Fontana, who would play a fundamental role in shaping his artistic vision.

Katsumi Nakai, Object 46-104, 1973, acrylic and oil on plywood.

04.03.2026

Sentimental Value: The House

If you haven’t seen Sentimental Value yet, you are lucky. The new film by Joachim Trier is a masterpiece of characters, relationships and emotions—but also, crucially, of spaces. Perhaps the true protagonists are the spaces themselves: the house, the dining room, the study, the bedrooms, the corridors.

The house is the film’s first image and the true engine of its narrative. It is both old and new, painful and welcoming. It is filled with memories yet still yearning for a future. The house in Sentimental Value was conceived by Jørgen Stangebye Larsen, who is based in Oslo but works internationally. Each environment is designed as a layering of lived experience. The house becomes nest and prison, past, light and shadow. It listens and speaks, almost like a character.

Working alongside set decorator Catrine Gormes, production designer Larsen created interiors that combine, with quiet elegance, IKEA furniture and iconic design pieces such as the Arco Lamp and the Pernilla Armchair. Furniture by Alvar Aalto and Arne Jacobsen also appears throughout the film’s interiors, helping to shape the emotional landscape of the characters—even those who are no longer present.

Go and see it with confidence. Much will resonate within you and, almost without noticing, it may refine your eye as well.

03.03.2026

Studio Gariboldi featured in Il Sole 24 Ore

In his article on Art Genève, Giovanni Gasparini emphasizes the fair’s identity as a true “salon d’art”: a focused and selective platform that opens the international season with a strong curatorial approach.

Within this context, Studio Gariboldi’s participation is part of a high-level dialogue, reaffirming the gallery’s commitment to historical research and the development of rigorous projects on an international stage.

Read the full article here: