First video: fast typing on screen connecting dots and lines. The movement is countered. The Plot is ancient.
Women wisdom of embroidering is evoked, logic/factual condition of following urban network-shaped mapping, from “Terramare padane” dating back 4000 years to Ippodamo from Mileto in V century B.C., to the “castra”, the roman “centuriazioni”, to the streets and avenues of colonial times.
Canvas’ integrity has always required a detachment.
Homer’s Penelope is able to build and even destroy in order to protect her home, the city, while Ulysses is traveling (between Nausicaa and Circe). But her home keeps being sieged and trapped in the interaction of a gesture reproducing itself until it denies itself, an abortion.
The cut of this new Penelope is intended to break the enclosures, to embrace adventure, to hit the road.
It introduces us to a plurality of voices. In the second video, Ulysses’ mouth renders the impact with the diverse urban realities encountered. The breakdown of a continuity is articulated through embryonic city maps, suspended and almost floating on a translucent kakemono. Plants are scrolled on a vertical plan of visual imaginary, transgression of linearity, organic traces, curves in the making.
There’s no journey without a map. There’s no plant without a garden. In the garden of memory and of future, Federica is guiding us through a “garden of diverging paths” making us aware of the fusion between city and garden, in a vibrant duet of Imperial and Sauvage.
Yes, vibrations, vibrating actions: the choir’s movements are waves, fingertips on wires among tree leaves. Tools full of air, harps just like translucent kites.
Trees bent on waters, on small bridges, on a primordial Pardes, becoming living proof of suffering migrants’ witnessing, of borderline distress, of borders, from Morocco to Albania, tales from the “Mare Nostrum”. Dialogues, interviews, recordings not making any headline, all these are the essential ground.
There’s no water without a mountain. No life without source. Angelica, a musician in white, musical siren, attracts us from beyond the bridge. Diverse showcase, united by differences, towards the identity genius loci, on top of the hill embodying a shared place.
“Anima”: four zinc made belts mark the ground, translating in a sculpture dimension the fingerprint. Bended identity-charged belts draw a giant nest, a meditation corner.
The origin of a labyrinth is designed, the soul of a house, a digital city?
We get high.
We’re guided towards a house, an organic city, anthropometric, anthropologic, where identity may be a tremplin made of the resilience of difference.
“Uniqueness marking a change within the social context”, writes FTF
The artist can’t hide in a solitary existence. The city, the territory is its natural habitat.
Whose finger is this? I ask Federica. “It’s yours”, she answers.
Fingerprint as a forced pressure of an inked finger is memory of violence.
Federica projects us in a vibrant present/future with liquid artistic identity.
The house is the city, the city is the house.
Sound of suspended stones over wires. FTF develops on the ground a structure made of simple bricks and sticks (astrological, political, biological scheme) rising from an empty core. Federica urges us to dip sticks in the ink contained in a cup… to draw the protection of life.
“Nero di seppia”, rightly so.
And life becomes original and personal writing, no private brush, rather a shared one just like a witness, passed on like in the sword ceremony, bending his head and keeping humble.
The artist fully becomes herself in the very moment when is infused in the Other, in the Others, surely a director, also a midwife…
Artist and Mentor for participants, both studying and giving life to their own self activated by her, like black gold extracted.