Roberto Brunetti's galleria
by @robertobrunetti
My name is Roberto Brunetti and I’m a graphic designer with a classical background in the visual arts — a journey that began at the Art High School of Bari and continued through to a degree in Scenography from the Academy of Fine Arts. My story is one of duality: of consistency and contradiction. I’ve always been a figurative mind by nature — instinctive, visceral — with a hand that often moved faster than my thoughts. Yet, for years, I chased the elegance of abstraction, the discipline of reduction, the silence of minimalist form — a territory that didn’t come naturally to me, but which I longed to inhabit.
For decades, I’ve worked in visual communication, in agencies, studios, and as a freelance designer. My projects have won awards — including a first-place prize in the 1994 Linotype-Hell AG international digital type design contest — and have been showcased in cities such as Dubai, London, Rome, and Panama. Still, I hesitate to call myself an artist. I’ve never felt the urgency, or perhaps the entitlement. I prefer to think of myself as a visual storyteller, someone who opens small windows onto familiar worlds — skewed, off-centre, but recognisable all the same.
Alongside my collaboration with La Gazzetta del Mezzogiorno, I carry on my own independent work. In recent years, as artificial intelligence entered the creative arena, I chose not to resist it, but to question everything. For many, AI represents a threat or a gimmick. For me, it became a form of liberation. I began by feeding the AI with my own archive of photographs — vintage textures, shadowy tones, and blurred architectural lines. One of my most meaningful projects reimagines Matera through an expressionist lens, somewhere between silent cinema and surreal theatre, with tilted perspectives and uncanny characters drawn from books, film, or fragments of memory.
Other works followed: combining Apulian landscapes with retro sci-fi, Bauhaus triadic ballet costumes with graphic motifs, all laced with elements of typography, animation, and music. These pieces are not planned — they emerge through a kind of creative alchemy, an intuitive laboratory where incompatible materials are mixed in search of something beautiful, or at least honest. I’m not a technician, nor a guru of artificial intelligence. I experiment endlessly, embracing randomness, trusting the image to arrive when it’s ready.
Today, I share my work daily on Instagram, where I’ve built a community of over 54,000 followers. Most are men — around 60% — with a strong presence from Tehran, Istanbul, Rome, and Paris. The largest age groups are between 35 and 64, mostly mature, thoughtful individuals, many of whom come from places where freedom of expression is fragile or denied. And yet they engage with themes I frequently explore: the condition of women, civil rights, war, poverty, alienation. My work is not reportage. It’s a mirror, or perhaps a portal — viewers see their own reality refracted through something dreamlike, unfamiliar, artificial — and yet emotionally true.
People often ask: “Why do you have so many followers?” I don’t know. Perhaps because I don’t chase them. I don’t use trends, tricks, or growth strategies. I post what I feel — sometimes ironic, sometimes brutal, always sincere. I don’t offer answers, only guided tours through collective unease. Those who follow me aren’t seeking beauty — they’re seeking resonance. Even if artificial. Even if algorithmic.
I don’t call myself an artist because real art still intimidates me. I simply try to make something that touches something real in others, even for a moment. If I succeed, then maybe — just maybe — I’ve done my job.
• Instagram: @robertobrunetti_ita
• Linkedin: www.linkedin.com/in/roberto-brunetti-78446441/
• Portfolio: https://www.adzeta.it/portfolio-adz/?id=index-40665&ucat=77
• Behance: www.behance.net/robertobrunetti
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/roberto.brunetti3
For decades, I’ve worked in visual communication, in agencies, studios, and as a freelance designer. My projects have won awards — including a first-place prize in the 1994 Linotype-Hell AG international digital type design contest — and have been showcased in cities such as Dubai, London, Rome, and Panama. Still, I hesitate to call myself an artist. I’ve never felt the urgency, or perhaps the entitlement. I prefer to think of myself as a visual storyteller, someone who opens small windows onto familiar worlds — skewed, off-centre, but recognisable all the same.
Alongside my collaboration with La Gazzetta del Mezzogiorno, I carry on my own independent work. In recent years, as artificial intelligence entered the creative arena, I chose not to resist it, but to question everything. For many, AI represents a threat or a gimmick. For me, it became a form of liberation. I began by feeding the AI with my own archive of photographs — vintage textures, shadowy tones, and blurred architectural lines. One of my most meaningful projects reimagines Matera through an expressionist lens, somewhere between silent cinema and surreal theatre, with tilted perspectives and uncanny characters drawn from books, film, or fragments of memory.
Other works followed: combining Apulian landscapes with retro sci-fi, Bauhaus triadic ballet costumes with graphic motifs, all laced with elements of typography, animation, and music. These pieces are not planned — they emerge through a kind of creative alchemy, an intuitive laboratory where incompatible materials are mixed in search of something beautiful, or at least honest. I’m not a technician, nor a guru of artificial intelligence. I experiment endlessly, embracing randomness, trusting the image to arrive when it’s ready.
Today, I share my work daily on Instagram, where I’ve built a community of over 54,000 followers. Most are men — around 60% — with a strong presence from Tehran, Istanbul, Rome, and Paris. The largest age groups are between 35 and 64, mostly mature, thoughtful individuals, many of whom come from places where freedom of expression is fragile or denied. And yet they engage with themes I frequently explore: the condition of women, civil rights, war, poverty, alienation. My work is not reportage. It’s a mirror, or perhaps a portal — viewers see their own reality refracted through something dreamlike, unfamiliar, artificial — and yet emotionally true.
People often ask: “Why do you have so many followers?” I don’t know. Perhaps because I don’t chase them. I don’t use trends, tricks, or growth strategies. I post what I feel — sometimes ironic, sometimes brutal, always sincere. I don’t offer answers, only guided tours through collective unease. Those who follow me aren’t seeking beauty — they’re seeking resonance. Even if artificial. Even if algorithmic.
I don’t call myself an artist because real art still intimidates me. I simply try to make something that touches something real in others, even for a moment. If I succeed, then maybe — just maybe — I’ve done my job.
• Instagram: @robertobrunetti_ita
• Linkedin: www.linkedin.com/in/roberto-brunetti-78446441/
• Portfolio: https://www.adzeta.it/portfolio-adz/?id=index-40665&ucat=77
• Behance: www.behance.net/robertobrunetti
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/roberto.brunetti3