by dave fiore
Autumn, before this autumn 2020, was the period of colors, exhibitions, theaters and cineforums that reopened, the month where teenagers between 20 and 60 years of age began the tran-tran of the release on Friday and Saturday, with a Sunday final in a sofa combination- Netflix- herbal tea. A small bourgeois autumn, with the ups and downs of the thermometer and the two wardrobe. It is the peak of autumn where we no longer wait for the dead, but the Halloween and then the Black Friday, to mark our times of capable consumers. For the youngest is the resumption of Friday for Future: Friday remains that, is the sense of sustainability to change. In this ordinariness, with the mantra of eternal jeunesse and adventures, now that flirting is less hot than in summer (if you are allowed to find the comfortable dating at home), the new season dyes its leaves, lively enough to become spots of small and large municipalities. That sublime and nostalgic foliage, for a long generation virtual-technology begins here, long awaited, dulled the bagordi of the usual summer in the popular destinations of Greece, Spain or southeast Italy, where in mass the spritz buddies find themselves with the usual glass in a different scenario. The differentiation on everything appears minimal, now that not even “the dead” are those of before because revised with the fairy eye of the import positivism.
No, we have not come to terms with 2020.
Were you looking for a variation on the theme? Here it is, the adventurous year, endless terror for the habituated, occasion of spicy phobias for daredevils. The Bisesto year goes in block, and with him the mini trips of four liras, stressful weekends to use photo-Instagram. And no inauguration, less spritzers, with continuous horror dressing in the digital ether. The long adolescence of the aspiring rich, cultured, beautiful, bearded and tattooed makes us wear a mask, as in the endless carnival of the last Venice. Filters that overlap other filters, previously virtual, today physical. Woe to hear of parties, carefully avoiding the big cities, for those oriented to live in the Milan generation. “Stay fixed in your land, to your village”, is heard from the voice of the master.
We have done so much to close ourselves in virtuality, that now the loneliness longed for scares us. The scenes of that cinematic Neorealism are back in vogue, which found the fog of the Po Valley more aesthetic, between poplars and rice fields, to a succulent glimpse of the Amalfi coast. Ideal places to live in distance, yet surprisingly rich in history as great destinations that we seem desirable.
Autumn, then. The time of unpublished places, such as some villages immersed in Prosecco, or hunting potato gnocchi in Posina and Lakes, or walk through the paths of the hills behind the house of which the Veneto is rich.
Do you want to put the delights of Crema in a film by Guadagnino, or the less frequented walks of the suburbs of the media empire, between arcades, lazy waterways and lines of hornbeams? Yet there is so much cultural life to feel happy and secure.
You went to the Bisazza Foundation to find the women of the twentieth century Norman Parkinson? Are you interested in the Future, which the Gallerie d’Italia at Palazzo Leoni Montanari exhibits through his works? Did you know that you can immerse yourself in autumn, with a visit to Villa Rossi in Santorso, or to the Bolasco Garden in Castelfranco V.? Have you ever bought for 3 euros a book with perfumes of the last century at the Ca’D’oro Bookshop, hidden behind Corso Palladio?
If you feel simple emotions, you are accustomed to the sensationalism of the big brands, to the 3D mega productions and to the search for Jesolo in Tel Aviv, maybe you are losing some of your life.
Nothing against gigantism, for the love of death, but there is the suspicion that the resilience of the small and cared for places is guarantor of a certain health. Mental as well as sanitary. Places for intimate recollection, where you are never alone and even make you look smart. If you are “conjunct” you can fornicate among the trees, if you only discover yourself. Open your eyes to the places you have not yet known, and where no one will be offended if you walk using your whatsapp.
photo courtesy fondazione bisazza
© Norman Parkinson / Iconic Images