Piranesi: Text As Inspiration.
We were recently tasked with reflecting on a piece of text that inspired us creatively, after thinking it over I turned to Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi. This book captured my imagination not only for its captivating narrative but also for its exploration of themes that resonate with things that I am currently exploring in my artistic practice - place, memory, and identity.
At its heart, Piranesi is a story of a man living in a vast, otherworldly House - a labyrinth of endless halls filled with statues and tidal waters. The House acts as both a sanctuary and an enigma, nurturing the protagonist while withholding fragments of his past. Piranesi’s relationship with this place is intimate and reverent; he views it as a living entity, both sustaining and shaping him, as he remains utterly devoted to it.
The deep connection to the House mirrors the concept of place attachment - the emotional bonds we form with specific locations - that I have been exploring recently and serves as a reminder of how environments shape identity and memory. I am intrigued by how Clarke has managed to weave these ideas into the narrative, using the House as both a literal and metaphorical space.
Piranesi has inspired me to think differently about the landscapes I depict in my art. The House, with its immense scale and intricate details, reminded me of how places can hold layers of meaning and memory. This is something I am hoping to convey in my work. The book’s themes also connect to my interest in cianalas - a longing for connection to places of emotional significance. Piranesi’s relationship with the House embodies this longing, as he simultaneously finds solace and seeks understanding within its halls. This tension resonates with my exploration of belonging in my artwork, where I try to evoke a sense of both isolation and connection.
Reflecting on Piranesi draws parallels with my recent experiments with scale. The vastness of the House - its towering halls and endless statues - inspire me to consider how larger canvases or expansive compositions could create a similarly immersive effect. In my current larger-scale experiments I would like to explore this idea further, drawing connections to the House’s sense of enormity and labyrinthian complexity. I am planning to use layered washes and shadow effects to evoke a sense of mystery and movement, capturing something of the House’s enigmatic presence in my compositions.
The book also reinforced to me the importance of storytelling in visual art. Much like Clarke uses the House to reflect memory and identity, I aim to create in my landscapes with symbolic depth, treating them as more than just physical spaces but as vessels of history and emotion.
Reflecting on Piranesi, as part of this task, has shown me the power of text to inspire creativity, making connections that I hadn’t been consciously aware of previously. Clarke’s ability to craft a world so vivid and layered has not only deepened my appreciation for narrative but also encouraged me to embrace ambiguity and open-endedness in my own work. The book has reinforced my belief that we should look at landscapes - both real and imagined - not just as settings but as dynamic, living spaces that tell their own stories.
This exercise of connecting literature to art has been an interesting one for my practice. It has offered new ways to think about place and memory and has reinforced the importance of weaving personal and universal narratives into my work.
In Piranesi, the House is more than a setting; it is a character, a memory, and a reflection of the self.
