When the world of design descends on Milan, most expect show-stopping furniture and headline-grabbing aesthetics. But this year, Salone del Mobile 2025 opens not with spectacle, but with soul. Enter Robert Wilson. Mother — a hauntingly beautiful, light-and-sound homage to Michelangelo’s Rondanini Pietà, set within the hallowed halls of the Museo della Pietà Rondanini at Castello Sforzesco.
Running from 6 April to 18 May, this immersive experience bridges Salone del Mobile and Milano Art Week, reminding us that true design isn’t just seen — it’s felt. And in this case, it’s also heard.
Where Light Becomes Emotion, and Silence Becomes Structure
Let’s be clear: Robert Wilson’s Mother is not an exhibition. It’s not a play, nor an installation in the traditional sense. It’s a breath. A space. A slow exhale. And yes, a bold statement that art — when paired with silence, shadow, and the right slice of Arvo Pärt — can transcend language altogether.
This “total work” is Wilson at his most distilled: light sculpted into story, music stretched across space, and time suspended in Michelangelo’s most enigmatic masterpiece. The Rondanini Pietà — unfinished, unpolished, and profoundly human — becomes the emotional core of Wilson’s vision.
Salone’s Most Radical Opening? Probably.
In the year of Euroluce, Milan’s celebration of lighting design, Wilson doesn’t just dabble in light. He weaponises it. Known for his rigorous theatrical compositions and poetic restraint, Wilson treats light not as a tool, but as a protagonist. A living presence.
“Light is not a detail to be added later,” Wilson says. “It is the beginning of everything.”
So he begins with it. And alongside the sacred silences of Arvo Pärt’s Stabat Mater, Wilson crafts a 30-minute sensory score. One that doesn’t guide — but opens. One that doesn’t narrate — but breathes. Between each flicker of illumination and each note of Pärt’s structured quietude, Mother invites audiences into a contemplative realm.

A Dialogue Between Masters: Wilson, Pärt, and Michelangelo
Let’s talk about the trio at the heart of this: Wilson’s contemporary lens, Pärt’s sacred minimalism, and Michelangelo’s raw emotion. It’s less a conversation and more a shared breath. The dialogue doesn’t happen in words — it happens in space.
The Pietà, famously unfinished at Michelangelo’s death, holds a paradox: it’s more powerful in its incompletion. Wilson leans into that. By refusing to stage it in the traditional sense, he elevates it. No bombastic design. Just light, shadow, and a score that cradles the stone mother and child like a whispered prayer.
Between 6–13 April, live performances by Vox Clamantis, conducted by Jaan-Eick Tulve, and La Risonanza, conducted by Fabio Bonizzoni, will accompany the experience. After that, a recording takes over. But the silence lingers just as loud.
The Spirit of the “Unfinished” — and Why It Matters
Wilson has long been a champion of the undefined, the unspoken, the spaces in between. In this project, he stretches that ethos into something deeply spiritual. The unfinished here is not a flaw — it’s a feature. It’s an invitation to see with new eyes.
In a world obsessed with polish, Mother lets us sit with vulnerability. With half-formed ideas. With emotion that isn’t fully explained. And somehow, that feels more urgent than ever.
It’s about openness — not answers. Reflection — not resolution. Which, frankly, feels right at home with Shoreditch’s own creative culture. After all, this side of East London has long been home to those who thrive in ambiguity, who live in liminal spaces, and who believe that art should ask questions, not deliver neat conclusions.
Shoreditch to Sforzesco: A Shared Creative Pulse
Yes, it’s happening in Milan, not Shoreditch — but let’s not pretend the energy isn’t shared. Wilson’s bold minimalism, Pärt’s sacred restraint, and the radical softness of Michelangelo’s Pietà all speak to a kind of creativity that Shoreditch champions every day.
Whether you’re curating immersive light installations in Hackney Wick or sketching unrefined brilliance in a Brick Lane studio, the ethos behind Robert Wilson. Mother will resonate. It’s about trust — in process, in silence, in the unknowable.
Why You Should Care (Even if You’re Not in Milan)
This isn’t just for design junkies or theatre purists. It’s for anyone who’s ever stood in front of a work of art and felt something shift. It’s for the dreamers who find beauty in the unfinished. For the makers who believe light can change everything. For those who know silence is sometimes the loudest voice in the room.
And for Shoreditch’s restless creators? It’s a reminder: you don’t need noise to make impact. You need courage. You need vision. You need space to let the light in.