Roberto Cafarotti - The Swimmer





€135 | ||
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€125 | ||
€105 | ||
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Roberto Cafarotti's oil painting The Swimmer on canvas measures 50 by 40 cm, is signed, an original edition from 2026, in green and yellow tones with a contemporary fashion theme.
Description from the seller
The Swimmer
Acrylic on canvas, 50 × 40 cm
It is part of the Unfinished Mannerism line.
In this series, beauty does not lie in closed perfection, but in openness, in the trace left halfway, in the gesture that stops before becoming definitive.
A female swimmer has been swimming for hours.
Or perhaps forever.
The line of the water cuts her body in half: above there is the white sky, the dark rock, the light that does not yet know whether to become day or to remain suspended. Below, instead, a world opens up that has not yet decided to end. Green shapes move slowly, like unspoken thoughts. Blue and transparent objects float weightlessly, like memories that do not want to settle.
She does not look back. She does not seek the shore. She keeps pushing her arms forward, leaving behind incomplete trails.
She knows the painting will never be finished.
She knows that beauty, the true beauty, lies right there: in not having an end.
And while she swims, something still breathes beneath her.
We must grow used to looking at the unfinished not as a defect, but as a form of truth. All that is alive is, in some way, still in progress.
The Swimmer
Acrylic on canvas, 50 × 40 cm
It is part of the Unfinished Mannerism line.
In this series, beauty does not lie in closed perfection, but in openness, in the trace left halfway, in the gesture that stops before becoming definitive.
A female swimmer has been swimming for hours.
Or perhaps forever.
The line of the water cuts her body in half: above there is the white sky, the dark rock, the light that does not yet know whether to become day or to remain suspended. Below, instead, a world opens up that has not yet decided to end. Green shapes move slowly, like unspoken thoughts. Blue and transparent objects float weightlessly, like memories that do not want to settle.
She does not look back. She does not seek the shore. She keeps pushing her arms forward, leaving behind incomplete trails.
She knows the painting will never be finished.
She knows that beauty, the true beauty, lies right there: in not having an end.
And while she swims, something still breathes beneath her.
We must grow used to looking at the unfinished not as a defect, but as a form of truth. All that is alive is, in some way, still in progress.

