In the Heart of Sanremo 2025
IN THE HEART OF SANREMO 2025
The Art of Remaining Immaterial
With this image, ill-suited to the canons of digital aesthetics, the experts say, I begin to tell you about our journey to San Remo. Not a sudden journey, but the fulfillment of a journey that began twenty-five years ago, like a distant echo waiting for the right moment to resonate again.
I was not yet 20 years old, and my way of communicating eluded words. I was expressing myself through images, movements, sounds. First dance, then voice.
I was looking for something undefined, something lost for centuries, perhaps millennia, not only by me but by an archaic feminine, forgotten in the folds of time.
At some point, there was a moment, a possible detour where that quest could have led me to San Remo. But the perception that I did not belong there, that I was not surrounded by the right people, changed the course of events.
But, authentic quests do not stop, they change form, transform and continue their journey. This one, passing through my children, has reached my hands. Hands that today shape, with touch and vision, what was once only a whisper of sound, a swirl of images and movement.
And so, after years, there I went to Sanremo, not to sing, but to build a scenography of beauty and dream. In the beating heart of the city, during the week of Italy’s most famous festival, we created a setting that was both scenography and experience, where art and nature could intertwine, evoking the ephemeral magic of a moment that is etched in the memory.
Ephemeral architecture, creating contrasts between light and shadow, between red and white, between what has been and what will be. Unspoken words, like a barely hinted melody that lingers in the air, capture passersby who absorb the essence of a suspended time, in a moment to remember.
San Remo is a place but also imagination.
A corner of the world where stories meet and collide, in a continuous creation and dissolution in the rustle of the surf. Here, in the buzz of the busy streets we saw time stop for a moment.
No words needed, no explanation to be given: only the certainty of having left a subtle imprint, made of harmony and suspension, of something that exists just before fading away.