The Milan-based artist you probably know from your Instagram feed — Pietro Terzini — has built a distinctive visual language around words that feel instantly familiar. He finds phrases that sit somewhere between irony, tenderness and everyday truth. Working across fine art, digital platforms, fashion and lifestyle objects, Terzini turns language into a mirror of contemporary emotion, social media culture and modern relationships.

Now, he returns to MAX&Co. for the third chapter of their ongoing &Co.llaboration — a creative partnership that has grown into a shared visual and emotional language over time. Titled “1-800 GIFT ALERT”, the capsule expands beyond ready-to-wear into lifestyle and travel, translating Terzini’s witty, uplifting slogans onto objects designed to be lived with, gifted and carried through everyday rituals.

Inspired by ’90s infomercials and the idea of gifting — whether to others or to oneself — the collection brings Terzini’s words onto deliberately mismatched tableware, silk pyjamas, travel accessories and a hero carry-on case, blurring the line between art, fashion and daily life. It is a collaboration rooted in MAX&Co.’s playful, mix-and-match spirit and Terzini’s belief in language as a universal connector.

We sat down with Terzini to talk about art as a universal language, pop art in the age of the internet, the power of words, and why simplicity is often the hardest thing to achieve.

— How do you find this correct, fun tone of voice to talk with global audiences so easily?

— You know, this is simply my tone of voice — it is very genuine. It is the way I live and the way I speak. What I usually do is collect sentences from real life: things I hear from people at a bar, conversations over coffee, things friends say. Some of them are mine, some come from others.

With my own sensitivity, I recognise a sentence and think, this could be perfect on a bag, or on an object. Everything is inspired by life — music, movies, but mostly daily life. It is not something planned or constructed. It is quite random, actually.

— Do you think your work is also very generational?

— Yes, definitely. Especially now, thanks to English and the internet, there is a shared culture across the world for younger generations. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok have made culture global rather than national.

Five years ago, this kind of work wasn’t really interesting for the market. But now, because objects and phrases can function almost like memes, they become relatable everywhere — in Dubai, Milan, China, Sydney. That is why this language has become relevant.

— So would you say we are all part of one global generation now?

— Absolutely. At the base of my work is the idea that the world is completely globalised and interconnected. Social media is like a second life we live.

The fact that you can write to someone in Japan in real time — someone you have never met — and they can answer you, or send you a photo, makes everything feel immediate and real. It is exactly like that Drake album title: What a Time to Be Alive.

— Many people describe your work as humorous. Do you see it that way?

— To me, humour is more like the final result. What really matters is finding a concept that makes you feel something — and placing that concept on the right object. Some sentences only work on specific objects.

For example, “DON’T LOSE ME” on a suitcase came directly from my life. I lost my luggage last year. On its own, the phrase could sound romantic or dramatic — but on a suitcase, it becomes ironic.

The irony is just the outcome. The real work is the process of understanding what idea fits which object.

— Your work is often resembling the text-based artists like René Magritte or Barbara Kruger. Do you relate to those references?

— Those are very high references — but they were also artists of their time, and they were provocative in their own way. Of course, Duchamp as well.

Everything has its own dimension. What I do feels right for now, filtered through my creativity and my moment in time. And yes, it is provocative — I like that.

If someone says, “This is too simple,” I agree. That simplicity is intentional. For me, this is pop art.

— You say you do pop art. How would you define pop art today?

— We can’t really use the faces of famous people anymore — social media has removed that distance, that aura. We know everything about them: what they eat, what they wear, where they go.

So for me, pop art today is about human feelings, moods, and everyday situations. It is about creating something funny, relatable and universal — something that works in Dubai, Milan, China or Sydney.

The real challenge is finding the simplest way to say something universal.

— Who has influenced you artistically?

— I love artists like Takashi Murakami and Damien Hirst — not because our work looks similar, but because they take a concept and push it to the highest possible level.

I learned from that approach. I start with something very basic — almost elementary-school level — and then push it as far as I can. That is where it becomes interesting.

— Language is central to everything you do. Why is it so important to you?

— Language is one of the most human things that exists. Animals can make sounds, but only humans can write. If you go to ancient museums — Egyptian, Sumerian — the first things you see aren't sculptures, but stones with text carved into them. Language defines us. What I do feels like a 2.0 version of that idea — a modern form of inscription.

— Did you always plan to work this way?

— Not at all. I am trained as an architect, then I worked in fashion. This started as a hobby — something fun, something personal.

There was no master plan. I just wanted to create something relatable. And for me, relatable means pop.

— How was your work received in the beginning?

— At first, people didn’t really understand it. They would say, “So what do you do? You write sentences?” Later, I realised that many artists in history — including Russian and Italian artists like Alighiero Boetti — explored language in different ways. I discovered those references after I had already started. It felt like discovering a shared DNA.

— Do you have a favourite piece from the MAX&Co. collaboration?

— The suitcase. It is very personal. I would gift it to my mom. And it is directly connected to my own experience of losing my bag — which, thankfully, only happened once, but it was terrible.

— Your relationship with words seems deeply emotional. Do you have favourite words?

— In Italian, probably ciao. In English, I like knackered. It is such a funny word.

I also love words like nosey — it sounds like it is about your nose, but it isn’t. Words carry history inside them, especially Latin-based languages. Knowing words means understanding human history.

The more words you know, the more precisely you can express emotions, pain, and experience.

— You seem passionate about languages in general.

— Very much. I have always studied languages because they give you access to different people and cultures.

German is fascinating because it has words for very specific feelings — like the sensation of walking through a forest and wanting to lie down. That word doesn’t exist in Italian or Russian. It tells you something about the culture itself.

— What influenced you growing up — cartoons, films, music?

— I grew up on Japanese anime because Italian television showed a lot of it. Dragon Ball was my favourite. That definitely shaped my visual culture.

Film-wise, Scarface inspired one of the phrases in the collection — the idea that “eyes never lie.” And musically, I love old-school hip-hop, Kanye West, Timbaland, Kendrick Lamar, as well as early 2000s dance music — Daft Punk, Avicii, David Guetta.

— What excites you most right now?

— The speed of change. The fact that culture, language, technology and art are evolving together. It is chaotic, fast, sometimes overwhelming — but it is also an incredible moment to create.