To call something a sin is an act of power.
In these works, the boundaries between the sins are porous. What appears as pride in one reading may be dignity in another. What seems like lust may be love. What is called sloth may instead be contemplation. The work does not resolve this ambiguity—it sustains it.
Here, sin depends on the one who is looking.
Andreapietro Argento Stamigni (Rome, 1990) develops a painting practice inspired by the anatomy and dramatic intensity of the Italian Renaissance. Working with oil, acrylic, and mixed media on recycled materials, he creates figures suspended between the sacred and the unsettling, where classical beauty coexists with wounds, desire, and transformation.
His work moves between the figurative and the esoteric, constructing images charged with emotional and symbolic tension. Each painting functions as a ritual space, inviting the viewer to confront their own shadows and question the perspective through which they perceive the body and identity.
There was a way of remaining at the edge of things without ever fully stepping inside, as though the body had entered into an ancient pact with gravity not to obey it completely. Time passed, yes, but it did so at a distance, like someone who no longer knocks insistently on a door they already know is closed. Everything seemed to ask for the slightest gesture—almost imperceptible—and yet that gesture never came, not out of absence but from a kind of fidelity to suspension, to that precise point where nothing falls because nothing has begun.
PECADO N. I
Mixed media on recycled paper
21×51.4cm
2026
250€
There were heights that required no ascent because they had always been occupied—not by any particular person, but by the idea of someone who had remained there as a lingering residue of the world’s explanation. From that place, everything else assumed a lesser form, not necessarily diminished but undeniably incomplete, as though reality had forgotten to correct itself in time, leaving everything else in a provisional state that no one dared to revise.
PECADO N. II
Mixed media on recycled paper
21×51.4cm
2026
250€
There were hands that did not know how to stop, because to stop meant acknowledging a limit—and limit was a word that erased itself each time it was spoken. What followed, then, was not accumulation in the ordinary sense, but a continual displacement of things toward a place that never quite aligned with use, necessity, or tranquility, as though what was possessed always existed just a little before, or a little beyond, the life that beheld it.
PECADO N. III
Mixed media on recycled paper
21×51.4cm
2026
250€
There were gazes that could never remain fixed on the center of what they saw, because the center always seemed to be occupied by another—even when no one was there. That unseen occupation produced a subtle distortion of the world, a constant inclination toward what belonged to someone else, not out of a desire to become the other, but from an inability to accept that anything could exist without being displaced to a place where it could be compared, measured, and silently resented.
PECADO N. IV
Mixed media on recycled paper
21×51.4cm
2026
250€
There were bodies that could no longer distinguish between approaching and falling, because the two unfolded too closely together, as though the interval between them had been erased by mistake in some earlier version of the world. Every encounter, then, took the form of an interruption that never fully explained itself, remaining suspended like a trace of movement that persists even after the gesture itself has vanished.
PECADO N. V
Mixed media on recycled paper
21×51.4cm
2026
250€
There were days when the very air itself seemed delayed in arriving, and that delay gave rise to an accumulation of responses that never found their moment. What emerged, then, was not a reaction but a continuous collision—a form of insistence that sought not to correct anything, but simply to return the world to a harsher version of its own touch, as though matter itself had decided to stop negotiating with softness.
PECADO N. VI
Mixed media on recycled paper
21×51.4cm
2026
250€
There was an inclination toward what required no support, as though the weight of things had been transferred elsewhere in the world without prior notice. In that displacement remained a kind of unspoken pact with inertia—a silent acceptance that everything could wait indefinitely without losing its form, even as form itself began to dissolve into formlessness and time became a surface without pressure.
PECADO N. VII
Mixed media on recycled paper
21×51.4cm
2026
250€