La ligne d'eau addresses the theme of personal and collective memory and the feminine role in their transmission. An intimate and metaphysical reflection on the transience of things, the importance of memory and what remains, La ligne d'eau is a work on the elaboration of loss, and, through the archetypes of the image of water, on reconciliation with Terra Madre (Mother Earth), and with the maternal and feminine part of identity, its history, and genesis. The Polesine flood's memory inspired the work in November 1951, the largest ever in Italy, which marked a separation line between a before and after of a peasant culture with its traditions and left an indelible fracture. In a land characterized by few elements, solid, rooted and legible as the soul of its people, who resembled the landscape, lived on the earth and returned to it. A story in which places and identities fade into each other, and identity itself seems to be resolved only in memory, whose temporality is revealed to be circular precisely by recognizing the signs interconnected with the self's intimate space.
A journey into memory that wants to be accomplished in a continuous back and forth between the experience of observation and tracing of visible signs, and a rereading of past history to let a new image emerge on the borderline. The images are conceived as a perceptive space to allow truths submerged by time to emerge, through a process where water, an element that hides certainties and recognizable references, also participates physically, so that the space of the image is invested with more relationships and reproduces the happenings of the landscape. The water of the river Po is used as a symbolic and performative act. Both in the development of the film and in becoming the essential material to create plaster casts to reproduce gestures, lost bodies, and objects. All this results in a deforming action of memory, time, and water, which is a generating and simultaneously corrosive action, which transforms and changes the original meaning, the possible interpretation. The casts then become images-trace-remains and impermanent objects, destined for a hypothetical open-air installation in the Polesine area.
In the image, I seek the encounter between two dimensions: past and present, belonging and loss of identity, submerged and emerged, abstract and concrete, fluid and solid. Through a metaphorical borderline, I generate a place where a short circuit can occur, from where a sound wave symbolically unfolds, a communication between two parties, a message sent from somewhere else. That's where the vision gets confused or is denied and hidden because reality denies the possibility of memory retrieval. As if drawn into a black hole, listening moves to all the senses and another dimension. It transcends the dimensions of space and time. Suppose things no longer visible are in us, kept in our memory. In that case, the water of the river, a dominant / devastating element and generator of life simultaneously, becomes a witness and alter ego, a symbol of the submerged part of us, of what is not there. Its fluidity is the meaning of the whole and, at the same time, a method for understanding: everything in it disappears, dissolves, resolves, and regenerates. The flow, the circularity, are a metaphor of memory understood as an eternal return of the past which is not a memory separated from us by time and space but a present and future element. Again, the mother water in Jungian symbolism gives birth, nourishes, flows, and returns eternally.
Water as lunar femininity, the feminine identity of memory and, in the etymological meaning of the word, one thing that flows into the other. The abstract concept and the thing that generates it in Jung are a reality: "the abstract shows its roots in the tangible". The incommunicability between two worlds, the abstract and the tangible one, as in Orpheus and Eurydice's myth, is broken by an imaginary Morse code, referring to the need to find ways of communicating and requesting help in times of war or if hit by a calamity natural. The impossibility of memory to faithfully hand down history. The images that repeat unfold and dissolve in diptychs and triptychs want to refer to the repetitiveness of a system of signs, sound waves, line, and point: a story handed down only by the story of those who remain is fragmented, transformed. Finally, the dichotomy of black and white that meets and melts into gray is part of the same attempt at the revelation.