Interview with Valentina Cameranesi

Designer, creative director and independent set designer, in her personal research Valentina Cameranesi Sgroi explore the poetic side of the decorative object. His creations explore the most diverse artisanal techniques, reinterpreted with a contemporary perspective that feeds on cultured references, from cinema to fashion, to give life to objects of an alienating and mysterious beauty. For Incalmi, Cameranesi Sgroi signs Allegretto, the project presented exclusively at EDIT Napoli 2025.

At EDIT Napoli you will present Allegretto: what is it about?
‍
Allegretto is a project that I developed together with Incalmi, a reinterpretation of their Maniera modular system. The system consists of a grid, a potentially infinite, extendable and removable structure, on which a coating is applied. I have been working on just that: on how to alter it, distort it and manipulate it. Completing the enameled copper wall are then small objects, of different sizes, materials and proportions, that explore the theme of color, central to this project. It's as if each color had a bit of its own form of choice, its own note of choice — hence the musical reference.

It is an author's interpretation.
‍
Yes. The Maniera system is based on an almost engineering concept, and my job was to give it a shape that could enhance its personalization potential — today I'm the interpreter, but tomorrow it could be another designer, an architect. Anyone can decide how to go to work on the grid, as if it were a staff on which everyone can write their music.

The transition from Maniera to Allegretto, the deformation you're talking about, takes place right before the spectator's eyes.
‍
Yes, that's right, we start from a wall that is 100% Stylish, and slowly the coating begins to deform, as if it were stripped, moved, opened. Of course there is an idea of unity, the material is common, the approach is common, but at a certain point the lines are no longer straight, and only lines are left broken by curves, a bit like in the clef of the violin, or in some plans of baroque churches. This also gives movement to the wall, not a mechanical movement, sharpened by the impact of light on the material. During the work, I happened to define the wall as “sensual”, where sensuality is linked to matter, to the involvement of all the senses, although obviously, as in all contemporary projects, the visual impact remains the strongest.

How was the collaboration between you and Incalmi born?
‍
We met a few years ago. I was developing projects for an exhibition at the Jacqueline Sullivan Gallery in New York. I really love Fausto Melotti's work on ceramics, and I'm fascinated by the technique of enamel on copper, so I came up with the idea of combining the two. Doing some research, I discovered that Incalmi's laboratory was the only one to do this process. We started to collaborate, especially on my projects. It was they, later, who involved me on this.

How important was the place assigned to you, the former military hospital of the Blessed Sacrament, in defining the project?
‍
A lot, in the sense that starting from space I also went to hypothesize the visual impact of the project, a natural approach in set design, which is one of the things I deal with. Having coordinates, limits, always helps me a lot: in this case I decided that I would work around the two windows, that I would go and dress up the space, including the external landscape in the internal one. This is not something conceptual, I simply worked on a corner of the room as if it were a section of a minimal space — minimal in the sense of reduced, not minimal.

Would you say that this approach depends on the fact that you have more souls — that of art director, that of designer and that of set designer?
‍
Definitely. Working with the sets, the installations, and also with the photographic image, I immediately think of the general visual impact: an object for me is never just an object, it is an object in a context. Therefore, the context is essential from a design point of view.

In design materials, you declare that the idea of imperfection is a necessary condition: what does it mean, and how does it translate concretely?
‍
It means that what may seem like problems, to me are not. At first it happened that the artisans told me 'this didn't work out', and I replied 'nice instead, let's keep it that way'. It was a way of discovering each other, and probably a lot is due to the nature of enamel on copper, to how it behaves on a chemical level: it was natural to understand it together.

Because with enamel on copper you don't know what happened until the object comes out of the oven. But there are still those who are looking for a precise design, or the exact nuance.
‍
I think that, especially now that we can potentially have everything the way we want it, that we have maximum control over everything, the beauty lies precisely in acceptance, in the ability to see things with a different perspective. We are too used to planning and planning everything, but including the mistake, the unexpected, is necessary — even in life.

Allegretto is made up of many different forms. How were they born?
‍
The Maniera system is a grid — a square or a rectangle. I was interested in deforming it, as if the elements were shaken by the wind. During the design phase, I work a lot with cardboard, and I liked the idea of recreating the shape of a sheet left in the sun, which crumples up and closes on itself, becoming three-dimensional. For this reason, in my opinion, more than a form, it is a concept adapted into various forms.

You often work on the contrast between raw and finished: what is the importance of contrasts?
‍
Absolutely important: in my opinion, there can be no beauty without the ugly. What defines beauty? And what is it that defines the ugly? Sometimes it is precisely the contrast between the two that is stimulating, and perhaps the roles are reversed — and what is ugly can become beautiful, depending on the context. This is from a general approach point of view. In this specific case, certainly the first contrast is between the aluminum grille — rigid, important — and the light and playful aesthetics of all these forms that develop in space. Another contrast is in the color combinations, which are never trivially 'right'. There is a black together with a green, for example. I realized that I had used a lot of black, perhaps because I wanted to try to create almost a trompe-l'œil in reverse, making something that is three-dimensional look like an outline, a 2D.

Contrasts that often also become material: natural-artificial, hard-soft... Is there also this element in Allegretto?
‍
Yes, of course there are also material contrasts, first of all between the sophisticated and rich enameled copper and the aluminum structures left bare: they are two worlds far from each other, one decorative and the other technical. The metal wall is then completed by a small tatami, which suggests an idea of softness, rest, quiet, as well as being interesting from a formal point of view, because it is a small horizontal segment in a large vertical forest.

How did you come up with these colors?
‍
It was quick and spontaneous. I work with colors with a lot of serenity — I have a great passion for fabrics, I draw with colored pencils, I'm not afraid to use color. It is true that there are very my own shades, which I always use, and this time I tried to force myself and use others, such as black, or acid tints because I like the way they look on the nail polish. The color changes a lot depending on the material. For example, red is a color with which I have a conflicting relationship. So I worked with reds that are never really red — a peach red, a cherry red — that become details, accents. But it's such an instinctive job that not only can I not explain it, I can hardly understand it either. Among other things, I don't know why, in my mind Allegretto and Harlequin have almost the same meaning. I think there can be no real luxury without the presence of the human touch. Can there be excellence without luxury? Yes. And luxury without excellence, and therefore without craftsmanship? No. We'll have an expensive product — the world is big and there's room for everyone. But if you want to be part of the big family that represents the best, excellence — so in Excelsis, what is at the top and is an example — there are rules, and one of these is the conscious inclusion of craftsmanship in the creation of products.

For you, objects are never just objects, they are expressive presences that evoke worlds. In Allegretto you have included a sample book, a fake lipstick, a jar, the minimal bed inspired by the tatami you mentioned before: what was your reference universe?
‍
I interpreted this vertical wall as a world, a minimal, reduced world, but embellished with small objects that you can touch, you can take in your hand. I liked the idea of creating a transitory but not anonymous space. Like a hotel room, but not in the sense of the intended use, but rather in the idea of a space that is yours for a moment, in which there are your tricks and clothes, your memories of the past and the projections of the future. I wanted to leave everything deliberately abstract, so that it could leave you free to imagine how it can change over time.