Four books.
Four visual forms.
I don’t look for a formula to apply to books. Each time, I start with the text, the reader and the book as an object, to understand what visual form might belong to it.
Four very different projects in tone, format and purpose: a paradoxical story, a foundational classic, a therapeutic book meant to be used, and a story of civic memory.
L’erba voglio
An ironic, paradoxical story about a child’s desire for everything he imagines to become real immediately.
When the protagonist manages to grow the legendary erba voglio — literally “I-want grass” — and eats its leaves, every thought begins to materialise. The game soon turns upside down: the harder he tries not to think of something, the more it takes shape.
Working with Stefano Disegni, I looked for an equally free, witty and slightly corrosive visual language. I used digital tools as a field for experimenting with materiality: scratched surfaces, marks, colour and graphic design all contribute to the tone of the story.
Iliade
For a month, I immersed myself completely in the epic world of a story that lies at the roots of European and Western culture.
Illustrating it for young readers meant entering a universe already embedded in our collective imagination — heroes, gods, war, love and loss — while looking for a form that could make it feel alive again.
In the drawing itself, I tried to give the figures an archaic quality: profiles, simplified forms, colour and textured surfaces move them away from the present and towards a more archetypal dimension, without losing their humanity.
La giusta distanza
Not simply an illustrated book, but a book meant to be used.
I worked closely with psychotherapist Anna Rita Verardo, taking responsibility not only for the illustrations but for the entire graphic design, through to print preparation.
The landscape format, generous white space, paper suitable for pencils and markers, and different typographic treatments are as much part of the project as the illustrations. Text, exercises and images continually change their relationship to guide the child in exploring emotions and relationships.
Nonno, cos’è il sindacato?
A dialogue between an elderly trade unionist and his grandson becomes a journey back and forth between present and memory: work, rights, migration, education, dignity and the Constitution.
Faced with 160 very dense pages, I suggested replacing the twenty large illustrations originally planned with images distributed throughout the narrative. The book therefore contains more than fifty illustrations, mostly without backgrounds and in a range of sizes, designed to sit within the text and follow its rhythm.
The present is in colour; memories and historical episodes use an almost monochrome palette. Whenever the grandfather appears in the past, a red element accompanies him, acting as a narrative thread.
The historical sections are preceded by substantial visual research: period photographs and source material help me reconstruct clothing, objects, settings and, when needed, real faces with historical accuracy.
The drawing remains narrative, but it does not invent history arbitrarily: the visual form is also grounded in documentation.
The form changes as what it has to tell changes.
From paradox to epic, from therapy to civic memory: the point is not to apply a style to a text, but to find the right relationship between image, voice, rhythm and reader for each book.