My Cage Became a Crown

Technique and urgency

Some works are born from a technique. Others from an urgency. My Madonna with the golden cage was born from both.

She is made of paper, feathers, and memory. She is as fragile as a wound and as resilient as someone who has learned to live inside it.

The roots

This Madonna carries a symbolic piece of my land, Apulia. Not only paper and feathers, but roots, stories, and visions of a South that resists.

She was shown in Rome, in the Miracoli space on Via del Corso, next to the Church of Santa Maria dei Miracoli. The Gazzetta del Mezzogiorno told the story of her path and of the symbolic choice behind her:

Her works, three-dimensional collages and sculptures in paper and salvaged materials, address profound themes such as resilience, the condition of women, the eclipse of the human being, and the transformation of wounds into courage.

What the cage means

The cage I carry in my works is not an ornament. It is the symbolic inheritance of every body that has been constrained, judged, and held back.

But once passed through, that cage can change. It can become a crown: the symbol of an inner power won not by force, but by transformation.

Beyond the frame

This vision does not stay closed inside a frame. With the Agile-Fragile project, I bring the works to the most fragile places:

• prisons;
• hospitals;
• workshops with women who have lived through trauma.

There, art is not decoration. It is a passage, a way to rewrite one’s own meaning, even starting from scraps.

A living manifesto

Every work has a story. Every fragment has been chosen, listened to, and transformed.

It is not only an exhibition. It is a living manifesto. It is my story, but it is also yours. If you have passed through pain inside the cage and come out changed, these works belong to you. And there is room for your story too.