Created at the height of Carlo Zinelli’s artistic maturity, this diptych encapsulates the artist’s profound graphic and symbolic obsessions. On one side, a fragmented animal figure—part horse, part machine—emerges as if drawn from a hallucinatory dream, set against a fractured landscape where signs, onomatopoeic elements, and figures interweave.

The reverse reveals a grotesque rider with distorted features astride the same steed, now marked by a star—a recurring emblem in Zinelli’s oeuvre. True to Zinelli’s distinctive motifs, the composition is structured around repetition, the superimposition of phonetic words (“RRRRR,” “MAAAA”), and the deformation of bodies, developing a unique visual language that fuses narrative, traumatic memory, and psychological space.

The line alternates between solid and scratched, continually vacillating between figuration and abstraction. Across both faces, the palpable tension between legibility and encryption becomes a defining feature of Zinelli’s work.

Dated January 21, 1967, these two sides of the same support stand as a testament to a moment of heightened intensity in Zinelli’s practice, situated at the border between automatic drawing and inner theater.

This double-sided diptych by Carlo Zinelli, executed in gouache and graphite, is conceived as an homage to the caregivers at the psychiatric hospital where he resided until the end of his life.

On the primary side, the composition is anchored by a large red hat adorned with a white star, positioned above the word “Rama” inscribed in bold letters. “Rama” was an affectionate inside joke between Zinelli and his psychiatrist—a nickname meaning “little branch” in Italian—which reflects the warmth and humor shared between patient and medical team. Surrounding the hat, colorful marks and handwritten inscriptions blend fragments of words, sounds, and onomatopoeias.

On the reverse, a large, assertive red figure stands before a cross, encircled by a cloud of repetitive inscriptions. This character represents the “fractured Carlo”—the artist himself, fragmented by his experience in the hospital, present yet absent, a totemic silhouette embodying vulnerability as well as resilience. The surface is saturated with graphite-written words, most notably the repeated name “Mario”: Mario was the devoted nurse who accompanied Carlo each day. This name, invoked like a litany, weaves a thread of recognition and gratitude, highlighting the profound importance of human connection within the enclosed world of the asylum.

This double-sided composition by Carlo Zinelli, executed almost exclusively in black gouache, powerfully showcases the artist’s graphic universe.

The primary side unfolds a landscape where stylized human figures, crosses, houses, and abstract motifs intertwine, all immersed in a dense flow of calligraphic inscriptions that seem to dance across the paper. A monumental figure engages in dialogue with a multitude of signs and shapes, organized without perspective, creating an atmosphere that is both enigmatic and ritualistic.

On the reverse, the composition extends this labyrinthine narrative. Here too, the figure emblematic of Carlo Zinelli dominates the scene, accompanied by small marching figures, crosses, animals, and butcher blocks stacked one atop the other. The lines are assured and bold, while the calligraphic motifs—intermingled with fragments of words and sentences—punctuate the surface with an undulating, almost musical rhythm.

This work attests to Zinelli’s ability to fuse writing and image, memory and invention, within a space where scales are freely played with: totemic human figures stand alongside small sketched forms, while crosses and houses evoke a personal mythology blending childhood memories, allusions to war, and rural life. The deep black of the gouache, in sharp contrast to the white of the paper, heightens the graphic impact and narrative density. Repetition of motifs and the profusion of signs create a visual polyphony.

The interplay of both sides of this work abolishes the boundaries between recto and verso, interior and exterior, past and present, offering a profound testament to Zinelli’s quest to give shape to his inner world, memories, and emotions.

This double-sided piece by Carlo Zinelli unfolds a world of great intensity, true to the spirit of the artist.

On each side, two large stylized figures—one blue, the other red—face or respond to one another, traversed by circular motifs and openings, like human archetypes or totemic figures. Around them, a constellation of objects, animals, houses, and signs is organized in a space without perspective, where narrative is built through repetition and variations in scale.

The composition is animated by handwritten script that asserts itself on the surface, mixing words, fragments of sentences, and onomatopoeia. Far from being purely informative, this writing becomes a visual element in its own right, reinforcing the work’s sonic and internal dimension.

The palette, dominated by deep blue, carmine red, and touches of yellow, structures the whole, evoking Zinelli’s rural memories, his recollections of the countryside, as well as traces of his experience of war and psychiatric asylum: animals and enigmatic forms, houses, objects.

One striking detail catches the eye: inside a circle, a cigarette burn—made by the artist himself—pierces the surface. This gesture, both spontaneous and full of meaning, introduces a tactile and almost ritual dimension to the work, like a signature or a temporal mark running through the narrative.