Marciano Meets Medici

Joannes Dimpfelmeier

Sunday, January 10, 2009

He lives as a hermit in the countryside of Italy, rarely leaving his self-built home, only for supplies. To get to him, one must climb steep hills and travel down winding roads for approximately 45 minutes.

His name is Joannas Dimpfelmeier, and he spends his life living in solitude creating art. One enters his home through his workshop, which is littered with tools and works in progress. His unfinished works include a foldable chair, moving art pieces, and a small robot child. His face is distinctly German, with rugged, yet natural, features showing his old age. The pipe in his mouth swirls smoke and the smell blends seamlessly with the smell of cut wood.

Even more peculiar than his lifestyle is the fact that all his artwork is made from trash. He spends days and nights walking around, looking for supplies for his artwork. This is evident in his Virgin Mary statue, as a heavy door lock plays the part of Jesus.

Joannes does not consider himself a monetarily rich man, but says that he is a rich man. When asked why, he said it was mainly because he is the master of his own time, which is something not many people can say. He cites classes, work, and other timed activities, whereas he answers to no clock. There is no observable clock in his house.

Walking into his exhibition room, one sees the true genius of Joannes. He displays his entire robot family, a machine that makes firecracker sounds, and a small R/C car built from a bottle of motor oil. He shows people how to use the fortune telling machine he made while another machine orchestrates a ballerina dancing to an enthusiastic audience.

I ask how he develops ideas for his machines and he looks down at my shoes.

Looking back up, he responds, “I look at people’s shoes, and then ideas come to me.”

Machine after machine roars to life in the hands of Joannes, while at the same time one marvels at his clever use of trash. There’s a hubcap chandelier. There’s an olive oil canister robot. A coat hanger ballerina. A bottle light fixture.

Surprisingly, Joannes admits that he still seeks approval from others. He believes that if others do not approve of his artwork, there is no sense in continuing it. He feels that one can never be entirely independent, and must rely on the help of others.

On the way out, Joannes has everyone write him a note in a book. I write, “I hope you never stop looking at people’s shoes.”

Joannes waves the group goodbye, and we start out long trek through the country side back to Tuscania. Along the side of the road, I see a hubcap. I smile, because I can only imagine what object Joannes will build with it.

Filed by Matt Signorile at January 14th, 2010 under Uncategorized