Raffaele Ciotola | The Blood of Memory
''The Awakening Voice of Art: Where Silence Becomes a Revolution''

In this powerful and haunting new visual work, Raffaele Ciotola appears with a small pink triangle on his forehead — a raw wound that bleeds downward, tracing a solemn path over his nose, mouth, and onto his white goatee. The mark is precise, painful, and necessary. It is an artistic declaration that refuses to forget.
That pink triangle, once a badge forced upon homosexuals in Nazi concentration camps, becomes here a living symbol of memory and warning. Positioned on the forehead — the seat of thought — Ciotola transforms it into a direct call to consciousness: the mind must not forget. The approximately 50,000 LGBTQ+ victims of that genocide are not numbers, but silenced lives whose absence still cries out for justice.
The blood that flows is theirs — evoked, not imitated — telling of unimaginable suffering. It is the blood of those who were erased, but who now, through the artist, reclaim voice, space, and form. The white beard becomes a sacred relic, collecting that pain as testimony.
Ciotola, a truly contemporary artist, uses the body as canvas and historical symbols as tools of resistance. With this image, he does not only portray the past. He issues a warning: evil flowers, the ones rooted in hatred and intolerance, are always ready to bloom again — and to harm once more. His art keeps vigil. It is memory in motion. It stands against indifference and demands responsibility.
STOP HOMOPH ART | ARTISTIC MOVEMENT
"FUCK YOU"

"FUCK YOU" is a response born from unjust suffering, from awareness, and from a living memory. It emerges within the “STOP HOMOPH ART” movement as a clear and undeniable voice against homophobia and its historical roots. This is a work that looks violence in the eye without backing down, choosing to speak the language of determination—not blind anger.
The central gesture—a raised thumb painted with the rainbow flag—is anything but banal. It is not a sterile provocation, but a symbol of survival, of affirmed identity, of the right to exist. It is the queer body revealed without fear, declaring: “We are here, and we are no longer afraid.”
Perhaps the most powerful detail is the one that seems simplest: a swastika hanging from the wrist like a powerless charm. In this symbolic demotion there is no lightness—only memory transformed. That emblem, which marked the death and humiliation of at least 50,000 LGBTQ+ people during the Nazi regime, is shown today not to provoke, but to declare that it no longer holds power—that history will not be forgotten, but neither will it be passively accepted.
In FUCK YOU, the indifference to that symbol is not superficiality—it is deep awareness. It is the power of memory shaking off fear and restoring dignity to those who were silenced.
This is not a work that asks to be liked.
It is a work that demands to be seen, understood, remembered.
Because to remember is already to act.
And here, art is full, deliberate action.
It is a work that demands to be seen, understood, remembered.
Because to remember is already to act.
And here, art is full, deliberate action.