The statue of the Redeemer in Maratea means to symbolise the rebirth, the new hope offered to us by the Resurrected Christ. It aims to be the meeting point between our best aspirations and He who divinely returns, ranges the sky, and walks, always, towards us.

The Redeemer, with his spacious skyward gesture and his gaze fixed on the faithful who are present in the unknown moment of their existence, is connected to his Father in Heaven in the blessing He is about to bestow, while once again his feet rest on this Earth that saw his Crucifixion. But thanks to his infinite capability to forgive, nothing can be seen of the tragedy He has gone through. Now serenity, hope, and a comforting forgiveness full of light are walking towards us: Jesus as a young man, timeless, free from all fleeting earthly appearance; divinely new as the incarnate symbol of the second part of the Holy Trinity; the Human and the Divine no longer contaminated by mankind.

After I had proposed this concept to myself as an ideal, I felt the need for the work to come into being in an atmosphere of simple, expressive synthesis, without any concession to formal details reminiscent of conventional worship images. My intention was to keep to a language that was as clear and terse as possible, because, considering the size of the statue, I felt that any attitude or detail that evoked an ordinary, contingent, minutely concrete reality would turn out to be self-defeating.

The statue will stand, pure white, on the summit of Mount San Biagio; it will be imposing, but discreet; not a shout from the sea to the valleys, but a calm call to welcome, to gather, to be comforted, to strengthen hope.

It is possible that the whiteness of the material out of which the statue will be made will remind us of the white shores against which the sea dashes in the many inlets of the nearby gulfs, where the whiteness of the scree dramatically contrasts with the incomparable colour of this sea and the lush green of the sloping hillsides. And the forceful lines of the statue were suggested to me by the powerful towers that are scattered like lighthouses on this coast.

At this point, while I am writing down these remarks, as I have been asked to do, I realise I have broken my natural, customary silence. So I hasten to allow my work to speak for itself, when my chisels have given it the finishing touches.

Bruno Innocenti