Bruno Catalano's sculptures in New York

The sculptor, of Moroccan origin but with Sicilian roots, was born in 1960 and moved to France with his family at the age of 10. He had difficulty fitting in, feeling like an outsider.

After graduating from school, he worked as an electrician for a shipping company, but in the meantime he enrolled in a modeling course in Marseille and studied sculpture magazines. In 1985, he opened his own studio, where he burned sculptures in front of an audience. This is how he first gained fame.

The big breakthrough came in 2004: he was making a Cyrano sculpture when the middle part of the work, forming the chest, accidentally broke off. That's where the idea came from, from a mistake, a random accident.

Then the new way of representation was born, which made Catalano world famous.

The pieces of the series known as Travelers can be found in New York, on Park Avenue, but of course several of his works can be seen throughout the city in Marseille, as well as in other major European cities.

The artist explains that the missing parts symbolize that we always lose a piece of ourselves along the way.

In my interpretation, this is not a negative thing: the traveler loses his expectations, presuppositions, and of course leaves a piece of his heart everywhere. Every journey teaches us something, we develop, broaden our horizons, and thus we become more. At the same time, every time we have to move on, a part of our soul remains in each place where we could experience happy moments. Traveling is therefore not only a physical change of location, but also an emotional and psychological discovery - about the world and about ourselves.

My experience is that after each trip I feel a little empty, because although I love being home, I still regret that the trip is over, maybe that's why I start planning the next one almost immediately to fill this void. Of course, you have to leave time to process each trip, analyze your feelings and impressions. Think about what it gave us, what we learned. Every trip changes something in us. It takes away and adds.

Perhaps the sculptures can be interpreted as a traveler giving up something of his own ego, expectations, and hopefully his personal little "package" at each station, the spiritual burdens he has accumulated throughout his life, so that he can move on a little more easily.

What do Bruno Catalano's sculptures say to you? I'm interested in your opinion, if you feel like it, write it down!