From 1957 to 1966, the Biennial Painting Prize was held in Sant'Ilario d'Enza, with jurors of the caliber of Francesco Arcangeli and Mario De Micheli. In 1963, thirteen-year-old Mario Rosati attended middle school, which the Municipality of Sant'Ilario would have liked to name after the Sette Fratelli Cervi, a will that the Ministry denied - stories of yesterday which, compared to those of today, seem trivial, or perhaps a sad omen of a dead time that rises again with arrogance. On the morning of the awarding of the prize, the school is in turmoil, the winning work was in fact destined to beautify the school building thanks to the 2% law. The awarded artist himself, Renato Guttuso, must come. The kids are intrigued, they get confused, the teachers impose silence and standing still. But Mario doesn't resist, gets up, goes to the window and sees Guttuso, Pasolini, the whole commission advancing in the school courtyard. The boy Rosati owes the only disciplinary note of his life as a student to having wanted to see "the artist", because he too already felt like one.

I've always been intrigued by this little episode of imprinting, which I hope I've told correctly. Since then Mario Rosati has drawn, painted, engraved, sculpted. Perhaps he is the only artist I know who uses a "scholastic" technique such as tempera with real mastery and pleasure. I find his wooden totems carved in pine wood and the lithographs fascinating, which I have had the pleasure of printing for him at regular intervals for several years. So essential yet so rich in nuances, happy proofs of those who have found a privileged means of expression in this graphic language of print. Rosati is a cantor of the animal world, which he knows, admires and respects. He portrays him in color or black and white with sympathetic affection, with respectful sympathy: his pigeons, his hens, all the birds and mammals he paints - which many no longer pay attention to in real life - tell us about a world from which man should draw serenity and beauty. From that distant looking out the window, Mario Rosati has preserved the gentle purity of a spontaneous and admirable art.

Arnoldo Manfredi