Elisa Macellari
Consistency and change
I met Elisa Macellari in her home studio in Vigevano. It’s a lived-in space, where work and everyday life naturally overlap. Drawings, books, and colors all speak of a balance in constant motion, shaped by family life, time, and personal research. In conversation, it becomes clear that her path does not follow a single linear trajectory, but unfolds through crossings of places, cultures, and languages. From the Academy of Fine Arts in Perugia to Milan, from her years working in a contemporary art gallery to the decision to fully commit to illustration, her practice takes shape within a continuous tension between worlds in dialogue. This research emerges through line and color, remaining immediate while holding multiple layers of meaning. Our conversation starts here, with what remains and what changes, in life as in drawing.

Photo: Lorenzo Morandi
Conversation: Lorenzo Morandi, Elisa Macellari


LM:
In your work there seems to be an ongoing dialogue between what has always been part of you and what is destined to transform. Your personal life, the places you’ve lived, and your artistic journey appear to move together, shaping one another. Looking at this balance in motion, what do you feel remains, and what is constantly evolving?

EM:
What remains. My family and cultural roots, grounded in the traditions of two very distant countries, Italy and Thailand. What remains is a deep curiosity to explore difference, to act as a bridge and a form of mediation between languages. I am interested in the dialogue between West and East, visually, historically, and in terms of attitudes toward life. All the stories I have told in my graphic novels follow this same thread. What remains is the desire to stay open to contamination, not to be afraid of welcoming others, even when that sometimes means exposing myself to risk. The colors remain, those ignited under the tropical sun and under the pale, crystalline light of Umbria. The outlines of forms remain, attempting to offer a clear and defined vision of the image, yet often dissolving into pencil, becoming grainy and unstable, never fixed. What remains is a love for food, as physical nourishment but above all as a moment of conviviality and shared storytelling. Ultimately, what remains most strongly is the need to be heard and the desire to tell stories, seeking distant, marginal, transversal narratives connected to individual and collective emotion, capable of allowing us to see reality and the world through different eyes.

What changes. Although, on a stylistic level, I have found certain points of reference in illustration that give me a sense of stability, I believe they will inevitably be questioned at some point in order to search for new solutions. I honestly wish this for myself, so that my research does not settle into mannerism. Perhaps those outline lines I once thought would remain will decide to open up, creating a more blurred and fluid landscape. For now they are curved and soft, but at times sharper, more angular lines may be necessary. The evolution of my way of making art will move in parallel with life. The two are deeply interconnected. The changes, the times, and the spaces I have lived through have all influenced the way I draw. I became independent, I moved through different cities and homes, and I became a mother. My son, Sirio Atlas, who is now six, brings new challenges that make me rethink how I communicate, what to tell, and how to tell it. The world is changing, society is changing, and the role of women is being redefined, as are, more broadly, all genders and the many nuances we are able to imagine. I find these perspectives compelling, and I remain attentive to see what will happen next.

elisamacellari.com