a mia Madre (To my mother)

a mia Madre (To my mother)

Installation, Political / Social, Various materials, 156x200x145cm
To my mother
On Sunday 19th July 1992 a bomb loaded with 100kilos of explosives blew up in Via Mariano D’Amelio in Palermo.
The anti-mafia magistrate Paolo Borsellino and his escort were murdered.
He was visiting his mother.
Two months before another magistrate Giovanni Falcone, friend and colleague of Borsellino, was killed.
After the attack the diary, which the magistrate used to carry with him and note down information about his inquiry, was never found. It was also known as “red diary” due to its colour.
The history of the Italian Republic is full of massacres caused by people who have never been traced.
The repeated reticence of people to come forward in the quest for the truth is surely due to the very tight and close relationship between state apparatus and criminal organizations.
Borsellino was aware of this close relationship. During his public interviews he would freely discuss his point of view, especially after the murder of his friend, Giovanni Falcone’s.
Both Borsellino and his friend Falcone were trying to reveal the truth; and this exposure cost them their lives.
The many secrets , hidden in the debris of the cars,, trains and planes that have been blown up in the past, the secrets of countless state massacres stand out as a heavy attack on democracy and is the main reason for the deep and strong distrust in the state institutions of Italy.
The lack of speed, inefficiency and even the absence of the any political response (perhaps manipulated by corrupt state apparatus that work to hold the whole system in check through corruption built on favours and bribes) could get us to the point where we forget the deep value of truth.
The disillusion, compliance and standardization of values are part of the web the political apparatus and mafia weave to dull the conscience of the people and help protect its own interests.
Preserving the memory of past events becomes the starting point of changing our future.

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Comments 11

Sara Tognon
12 years ago
Sara Tognon Artist
Molto toccante, bravo!
Maura Menichetti
12 years ago
Perfetto!!! ;)
Maura Menichetti
12 years ago
Bel lavoro!!!
IoSpazio
12 years ago
IoSpazio Artist
grazie mille a tutti!
Suzan a1qq Hijab
12 years ago
Ombra di quei "una mia madre"
Non mi piace - ma è importante
Mi scuso
Suzan
that's where I mourn my Hous
Gabriella Fiabane
12 years ago
bel lavoro e soprattutto un buon motivo per riflettere, anche se sono un pochino sfiduciata dal nostro straparlare e dal nostro chinare il capo!!!
Cat
12 years ago
Cat Photographer
Puissant !
Suzan a1qq Hijab
12 years ago
to Teresa Palombini

si si hai finestre aperte - un esempio - che cosa non gira lontano 160 finestre. lunghi anni di volo avvoltoio. sono liberi, e non siamo imprigionati.
Suzan a1qq Hijab
12 years ago
"" Il via libera per cercare di cambiare il nostro futuro "?".
bambini non sono molto wek-on. la realizzazione si è spostato. come la conversione forzata -. cui le vittime che i colpevoli non GARANT remare il raro ribaltamento

""Der Startschuss zu versuchen, unsere Zukunft zu ändern""?.
nicht weit -sind kids am wek. die macht hat sich verschoben. die umwandlung als zwang - wo opfer als täter nicht garant. das rudern umkippt rarer.
Alessandra Minotti
12 years ago
Alessandra Minotti Artist, Photographer
bravissimo chris ...ottimo lavoro..
Teresa Palombini
12 years ago
SI, ci sono stati periodi della nostra storia che, certamente non ci fanno onore e possono minare la speranza nella giustizia, quindi nelle Istituzioni che devono amministrarla ma, mai però dobbiamo perdere l'energia per combattere il malaffare e lo possiamo fare quotidianamente nel nostro piccolo mondo attuando anche con piccoli gesti un comportamento che si basa sul rispetto dell'Altro, del Diverso. Io credo, senza se e se ma, che il torpore che sembra attanagliare le menti lo si possa combattere. E' faticoso e a volte l'energia sembra lasciarci, ma a parer mio non esiste altra alternativa per vivere in una Nazione di cui si può essere orgogiosi di appartenere.
Grazie per averci costretto a riflettere.
BRAVO!

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