TURIN EXPRESSIONS: ELEGANCE BY UNCOMMON GRACE
Turin expressions: elegance by uncommon grace
he beauty of a place sometimes is able to represent a powerful answer to human failures. At least that perhaps is the way we ought to be thinking when realize there is before our very eyes what such a remarkable is going on. So that's what I'm here to tell you about. It’s not about Turin first capital of Italy, about Baroque architecture of San Carlo square and Carignano palace, the Egyptian memorabilia; or about the stage scenery, a natural set on luxury homes in the green front hill, of Vittorio square, not about the cuteness of leisure places of Valentino castle, the Po riverside nightlife, the Savoy military rigor in Cartesian geometry of city plan and Guarini dome. Not about the leading in italian
industrial design, the pioneering in cinematography, advertising, electronics; about the mass migration from southern italian regions in the fifties and sixties, the Years of Lead, trade union struggle, student uprisings in the seventies, and the latest development of the tertiary sector taken over from the industrial one, or about the award-winning cuisine. This is not an enthusiastic display of some proud; to be honest I don’t feel either consider myself more Turiner than a citizen of Rome or Paris, or even less to be part of a group made up of a very small number of people. I’m not of that kind. All I'm saying is that this city has been the first let me know about life facts special to me. What I'm here to tell you about, it is not something related to celebrity, but rather something to an unknown to most elegance. I was wandering in the downtown one day off; under the arcades of Carlo Felice square a needy girl was holding an hat between her legs, turned upside down. At first glance all of that may appear somewhat sad, reminiscent of those images “without colors”
(sure not in the “black and white” sense). Color is the finest surface of anything, and that girl had much to do with “colors”. For those with the insight to realize trouble circumstances by social malaise, she would pulled out of the hat poetry, poems come from her own. “Would you have me telling?” She picked random from the hat and with uncommon grace gave me three poems. That reminds me a bit of Sensism, a philosophical movement that permeated poetry in Baroque age, and a bit of Japanese haiku poetry. I find out a linkage with what I’m looking for in photography, by composition, sense of harmony, and a sort of emotional branding. No furher words, only those original ones by her:
Sembra formata nel sapone questa eterna ragazza.
Ma ritrae sul corpo la mano ossuta
di un’aquila col suo agnellino.
(1 Aprile 2013)"
anche i muri bisbigliano e si dotano di piccole ali
di vernice, fine
come la pelle messa a nudo delle uova,
la goccia rugosa dei frutti arancioni
si allarga come un morso,
e minuscoli insetti che paiono sbozzati,
da vivi, nell’ombra
della casa in estate.
(19 Luglio 2013)"
La resistenza ai propri desideri
è ciò che trasformerà la biada in oro,
la vita in un lusso,
l’acqua in sale.
Le montagne si tufferanno in mare
Come un pane troppo lievitato,
una pelle d’asino sconciata dal caldo
e dalla formichina della necessità.
(21 Luglio 2013)" by ANONYMOUS NEEDY GIRL, poetess in Turin