work
Memorabilia
| category | Illustration |
| subject | Political / Social, Human figure |
| tags | Sant'Anna di Stazzema, strage di serie b, memoria |
| base | 112 cm |
| height | 96 cm |
| depth | 0 cm |
| year | 2020 |
MEMORABILIA
Materials:
Adele 112x96 cm
linen, hair, surgical needle
Enrico 72x67 cm
linen, hair, surgical needle
Memorabilia (from Latin memorare, hence remember, keep memory of) counts as a social and emotional phenomenon.
Memory means the preservation of that which happened, yet it is also a synonym for transformation and dissolution.
I brought this gap of tangible relations into play by freezing through drawing and then through embroidery, used as a mantra, the protagonists of an episode that took place toward the end of World War Two in the mountains of Sant’Anna di Stazzema, one of the most heinous and inhuman occurrences in Italian history, yet also one of the least remembered.
She is Adele Pardini and he is Enrico Pieri, president of the Martyrs of Sant’Anna di Stazzema Association, the first two in a series of five.
The attempt, albeit ephemeral, to stop history by means of an image is part of my research into the preserving and passing on of memory which, in this case, is bound up with personal biological memory and with the very meaning of the remnants of existence.
Inside a graphic sign lies the narration handed down through my genetic, cultural, and mnemonic background. The only certainty is the durability of hair, which dies after a few years but then remains permanently (hair dating back five-thousand years has been found intact).
The strands of hair used here, unbroken from the bulb to the end of the shaft, fell out on their own and have been preserved and archived according to length and color.
Nietzsche viewed hair “as a light weft upon which to hang one’s spiritual thoughts, a filter of separation between that which is material and instinctive and that which is spirit and soul.”
Hair preserves DNA, but since it is part of something far more complex, I imagine it has the capacity to hold on to thoughts and memories, sealed, as if in a sort of film imprinted with images, in the same moment it falls once it has stopped growing.
The gathering of strands of hair thus ensures a non-visible archive that will convey as a sort of Utopian “forever and ever” the story of a population of men and women, once children who lost their right to childhood.
Materials:
Adele 112x96 cm
linen, hair, surgical needle
Enrico 72x67 cm
linen, hair, surgical needle
Memorabilia (from Latin memorare, hence remember, keep memory of) counts as a social and emotional phenomenon.
Memory means the preservation of that which happened, yet it is also a synonym for transformation and dissolution.
I brought this gap of tangible relations into play by freezing through drawing and then through embroidery, used as a mantra, the protagonists of an episode that took place toward the end of World War Two in the mountains of Sant’Anna di Stazzema, one of the most heinous and inhuman occurrences in Italian history, yet also one of the least remembered.
She is Adele Pardini and he is Enrico Pieri, president of the Martyrs of Sant’Anna di Stazzema Association, the first two in a series of five.
The attempt, albeit ephemeral, to stop history by means of an image is part of my research into the preserving and passing on of memory which, in this case, is bound up with personal biological memory and with the very meaning of the remnants of existence.
Inside a graphic sign lies the narration handed down through my genetic, cultural, and mnemonic background. The only certainty is the durability of hair, which dies after a few years but then remains permanently (hair dating back five-thousand years has been found intact).
The strands of hair used here, unbroken from the bulb to the end of the shaft, fell out on their own and have been preserved and archived according to length and color.
Nietzsche viewed hair “as a light weft upon which to hang one’s spiritual thoughts, a filter of separation between that which is material and instinctive and that which is spirit and soul.”
Hair preserves DNA, but since it is part of something far more complex, I imagine it has the capacity to hold on to thoughts and memories, sealed, as if in a sort of film imprinted with images, in the same moment it falls once it has stopped growing.
The gathering of strands of hair thus ensures a non-visible archive that will convey as a sort of Utopian “forever and ever” the story of a population of men and women, once children who lost their right to childhood.
