So long ago, on May 28, 1969, a baby called Roberto Campanerut was born in Portogruaro, a small village in the province of Venice.
Since the beginning, he has shown to be attracted by any painted thing, actually he used to spend his free time drawing and colouring with crayons. To him, a sheet of paper and a crayon were the keys to his own world, where he could freely express what he had inside and feel free. Days, months and years went by fast and, when he was 13 bitterly discovered that the fate compelled him to break his dreams and he had no choice that to go and study at a technical school, electronics. So, he carried out the task that he was given and, in 1988, he graduated at the technical school I.P.S.I.A. of Portogruaro.
In the following years, like a soul in torment, he passed from one job to another without finding peace. In 1995 he took a quite painful decision, that is to close his dreams into a casket and started to work in a glass factory, attracted by a good salary. In January 2005, while he was waiting for a surgery, he decided to buy an easel, some colors, a canvas and started to make some color tests.
Many different thoughts and hesitations flowed in the mind of the young since, till that moment, he never used oil color, both for lack of time and for fear to confront with his myths – Caravaggio, Michelangelo, Tiepolo, etc.
Time passed by and, after the first painting was completed, the young bought further canvases and other colors, keeping on painting in the small kitchen of his apartment. He didn’ t care about the so little space he had at his disposal or about the light that was not perfect. To him this was enough because he had the possibility to paint. Soon he realized that he felt again a baby: when a sheet a paper and a crayon were the keys to his own world, where he could be free to express what he had inside.
He realized then, that the brush and the color broke the lock of the casket where he shut up his dreams ten years before. To him now it was impossible to stop and he could not conceive any else work but painting. Now, the young has grown up and during these years he married with a wonderful woman who gave him two lovely children.
What he paints is his time, the real world he lives in and his need to think. Often he doesn’t want his concepts and his thoughts to remain something abstract or undefined, but he wants to express a moment of thinking through a real and figurative language.
Love and happiness should be the only things to draw from, but often they slip out because we are unable to define and appreciate them.
Love is when you feel so attracted by something to the point that you consider it as your soul home. Happiness is like a firefly that you keep into your hands on one summer night and gently you open them to peep that light that so much attracts you. Happiness is to appreciate life and to smile while you open your hands and see an emotion that leaves to make room for another one.
One of his thoughts …
“Love and happiness should be the only things to draw upon, but often they escape us because we are unable to define and appreciate them.
Love is when you feel so attracted to something that you place in it the abode of your soul. Happiness is a firefly that holds in your hands one summer evening and with curiosity you open them gently to peek the light that palpitates and attracts you so much. Happiness is admiring life and smiling in reopening your hands to see an emotion that moves away to make room for another.”