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Michela Palermo | My Broken World

“On November 23rd 1980 at 7.34 P.M. the earth shook for ninety seconds in the Irpinia valley, an area of the Campania region in Italy. Ninety seconds to kill 2.998 people, tear the house away to 280.000, change the geography of the lands and produce illusions that where rapidly deluded: the area, among the poorest in southern Italy, saw suddenly interrupted the already difficult process of development. More than thirty years after the event that marked a “before” and “after” in the south of Italy’s history, Michela Palermo chose to weave her personal story with that of this land.

My Broken World (2011) is a tale told through images of a world that has crushed into pieces, of a land crossed by deep cracks and unsewn tears, of the suspended lives of who was stuck in a motionless time.
My Broken World is a view on the unexpected results of an earthquake that shook the earth like a revolution: broadening horizons, liberating energies, creating new networks, discussing certainties. Continue Reading →

Rabbit drawing © gelitinRabbit seen from the sky (one person sleeping on its belly) © gelitinRabbit during construction © gelitin

gelitin: Hase / Rabbit / Coniglio

“The things one finds wandering in a landscape: familiar things and utterly unknown, like a flower one has never seen before, or, as Columbus discovered, an inexplicable continent; and then, behind a hill, as if knitted by giant grandmothers, lies this vast rabbit, to make you feel as small as a daisy.

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Pietro Motisi | The Ebb Tide

Pietro Motisi’s The Ebb Tide” will have a solo exhibition at the RizHoma.housegallery in Palermo.
The exhibition is curated by Martina Colajanni.
(Bookmark the event on Facebook)

Opening: January 12th 2012, 7 p.m.
Exhibition from January 12-27, 2012
RizHoma.housegallery | Piazza Marina 51, Palazzo Dagnino | Palermo / Italy
Monday – Friday | 4–7 p.m. or by appointment | tel. 3299298792

The Ebb Tide

“They are old ships behind the floodgates,
Lurking in the silt and mire;
Rust on their anchor, mud on their bows,
Their decks unpainted and their sails in rags:
They lean to one side as though arthritis
Had claimed their limbs, paralysed now
They’ve forgotten the sea except when the flood-gate
Lets a hint of the tide reach them. […]”

D. Gwenallt Jones – The Curches – 1959 Continue Reading →