Rita Frizzera is born in Trento, in definite tones of black and white.
With time, her colors become alive, her hair strikingly blond, remaining so even today.
Her family observes Rita, with astonishment, as a small child, busy with paint-brushes, scissors, paper and colors. She has creative feasts, experimenting with various techniques.
A few years later comes her fatal encounter with fabric, as her fellow-citizens of Genoa can testify.
Rita starts to cut fabric into minute pieces which she then patiently recombines, following inscrutable mental paths.
“This is patchwork”, someone tells her, “and even quite crazy”.
She thinks: “Yes, this is my path!”
The room fills with boxes of cottons, printed silks, fabric cut from clothing, red embroidery, blue embroidery and old lace.
She mixes it all, sewing patiently and accurately, to create works of endless fantasy.
But her friends know that Rita has never been too rigid, and even in this field, she leaves behind the rules, and her imagination takes flight. She sews cornucopias, baskets and trees full of colorful flowers and fruits.
Her creations are always more and more like a hymn to life, and with time, seem to reflect her.
At first impact, her quilts seem somber and calm. But after more careful observation, they appear to be quite intriguing; they seem to hint at an earthly paradise, full of abundance and joyous sensuality, illuminated by a Caravaggio-like light.
Rita, as seen through the eyes of her friend, Nanna.
Thank you, Daniela, Grazia, Verena, and all the friends for the constant affection you show to me.
(Translated by Pia Puonti)