Whether you’ve dreamed of owning one of my pieces but lacked the space or simply prefer a print version, this is your chance to bring a signed, limited edition print into your home. Each print is carefully crafted to showcase sharp details and stunning visuals, making it a perfect addition to any collection.

The first print, Gilgamesh, is now available, and more will follow!

You can explore these exclusive prints and order yours through the Prints page on my website. Click here to view and purchase.

Don’t miss out on this rare opportunity to own a piece of my work—brought to you in collaboration with Urbana Print & Gallery.

I took on this piece as a personal challenge to create something bold and enduring, and it will soon become the centrepiece of a custom water feature in my garden.

The carving process involved everything from rough outlining to the fine details that bring out the lion’s unique expression. In the time-lapse video below, you can watch as the lion’s face gradually takes shape, transforming from raw stone into a characterful sculpture ready to spout water and add depth to my outdoor space.

Just posted a new project page on the website for my latest piece, Vanitas. Have a look at it here!

https://www.fabriziositzia.com/portfolio/vanitas/

Anyway, it has been an extraordinary experience and I’ve learned a lot about the stone masonry world that is so different from the stone carving world I am used to.

I might not be a professional stone carver nor a famous one but I had the privilege to work on a reproduction of a corbel from the Exeter Cathedral that was built almost in the same period as the Notre Dame of Paris and that taught me a lot about medieval stonemasonry and ultimately about medieval mindset. The person that commissioned the piece wanted a copy of the Our Lady’s Tumbler corbel that could resemble as much as possible what it would have looked like 700 years back, including the original colours. These will be applied by a professional restorer later on.

The only way to truly know something is to create it. This was the lesson I learned. It took me almost a year, endless hours on chisels and sand paper, sweat, pain and some blood and this while I was working full-time in my dayjob. During this time I’ve truly connected with the stonemason that carved it centuries earlier because I’ve studied the sculpture to the most minute detail, its proportions and its symbolism. I discovered that the artist had a profound knowledge of the art and carved in a cartoonish way not due to a lack of skills but on purpose. His medieval mind wanted to transmit a message that could only be possible in that specific style. A wormhole put me in touch with him. While I was carving I could see him, I could hear him, I could relate to him. Did he have children and wife waiting for him like I did? Did he spill blood on the stone like I did? Was it frustrated when, like me, knocked off the chin of the tumbler and he had to recarve the entire face? Was he continuously communicating with the painter like I was doing to ensure the optimal undulation of the leaves would highlight the colours? I’m sure he did all those things, and so did the stonemasons of Notre Dame when they built it. I know it took them exceptional skills to do what they did and I’m sure they would cry at the sight of its burning if they were alive today. They thought their creation could have lasted forever for the glory of their god. Today we stonemasons, professional or amateurish like me, cry with them for the loss of 185 years of mastery and hard work. Their shattered dreams are our today’s nightmares. However, it’s not all lost for their legacy is still with us. It’s because of what they did that our art progressed to the levels we saw later on with Michelangelo and other Renaissance artists and to this day.