While Lucatello received his artistic training in Venice, and his cultural and pictorial background is clearly Venetian in the academic sense, he claims that he wishes to break away from all cultural traditions which are oppressive to human creativity, as is the case today.
For artists and men must consistently seek to renew and develop their vision and perspective, so that it is always fresh, always dynamic and never static.
Lucatello is no stranger to controversy and his ongoing, angry and often heated disputes within intellectual circles confirm this. While his position is frequently misunderstood, he has little to fear from the judgement of others. Not fitting in, being rejected by the artistic establishment has obviously created problems for him, and yet he is not unduly concerned by this. Perhaps it is from this that his love for Friuli derives. Friuli: a land hostile and harsh, culturally barely explored, and yet decidedly alive. It is through this natural environment, which is, as he sees it, divided into areas of green, but also black – black which in its intensity and fullness becomes colour – that his heartfelt feeling for nature was to find expression in a language which was to form a vital, lasting and mutual bond between them. “Natura del Friuli” (the nature of Friuli), “Dimensione uomo–natura” (Man–nature continuum/dimension), “Ostacoli” (Obstacles) are frequently recurrent titles in his paintings, painting which are often imposingly large in their dimensions.
His painting are “moments”, part of an ongoing, constantly evolving discourse, difficult and yet unfettered by inhibitions of any kind. This is demonstrated by the scope of his work. There are depictions of nature, where the impasto be it of the earth or of mulberry trees is at times rough, at times smooth, representative of the “impasto” of human consciousness Then there are his “obstacles” which are at times harsh and rigid, at times soft and serpentine and represent both the barriers and ring fences which impede human progress. His more recent faces depict human suffering: they are real faces, terribly alive, full of bitterness and intense pain, pain of times past yet never resolved. Yet there is always in some way, even behind the obstacles which seem about to shatter into a thousand pieces for all the tension that is within them, a clear glimmer of light, like that of dawn tentatively breaking through, distant, difficult to grasp, but nevertheless within reach.

translated by Amanda M. Hunter