In ancient Greek, "γέρων" ("geron") means "elderly." To translate this term into Russian, the word стáрец ("starec") was chosen, which referred to the ancient Slavic ecclesiastical term starĭtsĭ ("elderly"), itself derived from starŭ (with the same meaning of "old").
In itself, γέρων did not so much denote a chronological age but rather an intellectual and spiritual one. Especially from the Eastern Christian monasticism of the 4th century onwards, an elderly ecclesiastic, hermitic, silent in their prayer, focused on directing their own and others' gaze towards God, upon entering the community, became a spokesperson and simultaneously a confidant, an assurance of trust almost touched by the Holy Spirit.
This dimension of the Greek γέρων is then paraphrased in Russian. The starec (often transliterated as starets) used to describe those elders within Orthodox monastic communities who assume the role of spiritual guides—fathers of faith, always ready to offer direction and counsel. Their lives are shaped by prayer, eremitism, and ascetic practice; such radical devotion, sustained by profound belief, is said to grant them particular gifts—the capacity to discern the right path, to heal and alleviate suffering, to prophesy, and to perceive the inner life of those who approach them with trust. In this way, the starec inspires believers through the example of virtue and spiritual composure they embody. At the same time, their authority is not conferred by institutional appointment but is recognized and affirmed through the sincere devotion of the community itself.
Over time, certain startsy have become enduring points of reference, acknowledged as guides endowed with far-reaching spiritual influence. Among the figures shaped by this tradition is Zosima in Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov. As the author writes: “The starets is one who takes your soul and your will into his own […] so that, through a life of obedience, one may ultimately attain absolute freedom—freedom from the self—and escape the fate of those who pass through life without ever finding themselves.”
From this lineage Francesco Arena develops his new site-specific work for the spaces of Galleria Raffaella Cortese in Albisola Superiore.
The sculpture, made of copper, exists fully only when accompanied by a person who holds it upright. If no one assumes responsibility for its unbalanced center of gravity, it rests on the ground, concealing the inscription along its longer side: Separated from all, he is united with all, a sentence spoken by Zosima in Dostoevsky’s novel. A starec, a sage who guides through counsel and example, becomes here both conceptual reference and operative condition.
Titled Lo Starec, the work takes the form of a copper triangle with an obtuse angle. It can lie stably when extended along its longer side, yet requires a counterweight to remain upright when positioned on the shorter edge. The engraved message becomes legible only through this act of support: only by accepting its instability—by physically sustaining it—does the viewer activate the work. The sculpture thus translates the figure of the starec into a relational device, where meaning emerges through commitment, proximity, and the shared negotiation of balance.
We asked the artist some questions.
You can read the conversation here.
Images courtesy the artist and Galleria Raffaella Cortese. Photo: Federica Delprino - Omar Tonella