Stone Document – Basilicata

Installation – Symbolic Action in Participatory Art

Potenza, Piazza Mario Pagano, 8–28 January 2001

A work of Participatory Art, a Symbolic Action which – in the burning topicality of ever more dramatic world events – focuses on the importance and urgency of a different order of values, based on Life and not on Death.

By building, with the involvement of the people, a stone structure/sculpture, the Artist sets out to counter, by highlighting it, that normalisation of horror which leads human beings to indifference towards the pain and evil of the world.

The Symbolic Action makes it possible to see the absurdity of this “drama within the drama”: the chronic persistence of a tragic way of life based on violence, oppression, destruction…

Art can do a great deal, awakening awareness in each of us, making us feel part of a whole on which we depend and in which we must act to bring about change.

Art can help us regain the lost or dulled sense of a shared responsibility, and understand how insensitivity, indifference, omission… amount to precise complicity with the perpetrators of every crime.

Art, by awakening consciences, can show how carelessness, misinformation and/or well-cultivated ignorance, laziness, denial… can help perpetuate deadly ways instead of developing ways based on life, love, respect and civil coexistence.

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Photos by Califano

Photos by Tamburrino

Stone as message

In the Holy Scriptures, it is on two tablets of stone that God engraved the Commandments. And on stone slabs the names of the dead are engraved, as a perpetual memory; and on myriad boulders, in the most varied ages, civilisations and sizes, glyphs and figures tell the stories of humankind.
But over this sacred value of stone as a direct bearer of messages lies an even greater one: that of stone itself as message, without anything being written on it. In this sense it fully takes on the meaning of McLuhan’s statement, “the medium is the message”: a powerful message is written in the stone itself, beyond whatever form it may have.
This is possible because stone is a fundamental archetypal symbol.
The richness of meanings of stone comes from the fact that they have gradually been layered over centuries and millennia, so that it has come to have a potentially infinite narrative programme.

Stone as vehicle

Stone is the place of myth. It manages to transmit, evoke, suggest. House of God, itself a deity, navel of the world, centre of the motionless wheel, cosmic egg, lotus of the universe: there is no limit to the variety of its meanings in different cultures and times…

To document and bear witness to the Event, and to share it with those who could not be there, a VIDEO (a short film in digital Betacam) was made, to be distributed by the Cultural Centre.

Teri Volini apologises

Now that the “Stone Document” – deliberately built in Potenza between the end of one millennium and the beginning of the next, in December 2000 and January 2001, and displayed in Piazza Mario Pagano from 8 to 28 January 2001 – has been dis-installed, and the boulders that had courageously formed it have returned to their original home, the mountain,

I wish to thank

all those who contributed to making it, for the spontaneity and enthusiasm with which they accompanied a great work.

I consider these people co-authors of the work of art; without them, the many difficulties I had to face would have made me give up the undertaking.

I declare their collaboration precious in every respect, and it is as if their signature too were at the base of the work – which, even though it is no longer concretely visible in the heart of the city, remains in memory…

The sensitivity of all those who helped me allowed the passage from a phase of listening – first curious, then attentive and finally active – to practical planning and real personal involvement.

Where many would have drawn back, as “before a mountain of stones”, frightened and sceptical, these people – certainly not ordinary – did not let themselves be discouraged; they firmly believed not only in the artist but in the beauty of the work and its communicative power, and so worked with great commitment, themselves becoming the props of my momentary uncertainties, as when it came to finding the great rocks, choosing one by one those best suited to the structure, then transporting them… until, little by little, the structure was built, this unusual “monument”…

As had already happened before – in Sicily, on Etna, or while weaving the Web in the Lucanian Little Dolomites, or in the Passaggi a Nord-Ovest of the city of Biella – when everything seemed to conspire against the idea being realised because of excessive difficulties (often the greatest ones created by humans…), suddenly the miracle was renewed, and these precious, extraordinary people became the makers of the undertaking.

Friends, but even more, people who had been strangers, made my idea their own, allowing it to come to life…

Yet, together with these examples of communion and solidarity, I also found myself facing misunderstandings, omissions and incomprehension that turned into real obstacles to my demanding action…

These attitudes – provincial, superficial and gratuitous in my view, but above all socially and culturally destructive – showed themselves in various ways, preventing me both from carrying out the undertaking in all its fullness and complexity, aesthetic and conceptual, and from making it known to the public more widely and effectively: not only because it deserved it, but above all so that everyone – the artist included – could draw cultural and spiritual enrichment from an involvement that democratic information would have made more aware…

It therefore seems right to me to reflect on the facts, beginning by

offering my heartfelt apologies…

I apologise… to the stone:

if I made use of an attribute of its own – hardness – to associate it with a sad human trait: the stubborn hardness of soul and mind, accompanied by arrogance, obtuse indifference, insensitivity and countless other such “virtues” that lead human beings… straight to “hell” already on this earth: on one side the small personal hell of backbiting, envy, jealousy… on the other, on a grander scale, the hell that damns us to war and genocide, to the manipulation, degradation and destruction of other beings and of nature.

So I apologise to the stone:

if I made use of it to try to shake off the murky drowsiness that too often envelops our hearts, threatening to crush us under a weight far greater than that of the boulders of the “Stone Document”: the weight of our prejudices.

And again I apologise to the stone:

first form of life, fundamental archetype.

In the Old Testament it is said that the divine laws were written on stone; it is on the tombstone that the name and perpetual memory of the dead are engraved; and on countless boulders, in the most varied ages, civilisations and sizes, glyphs and figures tell the stories of humankind.

But the intrinsic power of stone goes beyond even what can be written on it, because it transmits a formidable message directly to us, made even more powerful by the layering of its meanings over centuries and millennia, until today it takes on an ever more dramatic value, equivalent to a cry: only we no longer hear it, deaf as we are to the ruin of the Earth and to the most elementary respect for its needs…

The power inherent in stone also goes beyond the form it may have… not to mention that this very form, throughout history, was given to it by the hand of man, who manipulated it – building temples, towers, pyramids, churches, palaces, castles…, carving statues, bas-reliefs, obelisks and so on – to convey his own culture, the one that was dominant at the time.

In the world he inhabits as an ungrateful guest, the small, arrogant human being – long used to exploiting the resources of the Earth as if they belonged to him by right – values only what he can use to his own advantage, and does so while increasingly losing all sense of limits.

So in stone he sees only a material to be used, the means to build what he needs: houses, bridges, walls, roads, skyscrapers – monuments erected to confirm his dominion.

And so, there is the “explanation” for his bewildered astonishment, his dismay, even his annoyance, and consequently his rejection.

All this produces a resentment so visceral and invasive as to make him lose even his sense of decency: I mean that healthy restraint which would suggest a wise pause for reflection before what one cannot immediately understand, both to try to find one’s bearings and so as not to reveal one’s ignorance needlessly.

Instead, the small human being prefers to express his instinctive intolerance… and so we get “an obscene heap of stones”, “an affront to the citizens”, “a pile of rubble”, going all the way from the poetic “illegal dump” to the generous “mad cow”…

Of course, I understand that for someone living in a state of deep unease – of which he is not even aware – it must have been a real blow to find his system of “values” turned upside down overnight.

To find himself forced, in the middle of his serene daily routine, to realise that the stone, instead of staying in its place and doing its sacred duty as a stone – that is, staying under the feet of humans – had taken on, through the artist’s ide/action, a value and dignity of its own – what horror! – so as to be the absolute protagonist of an event.

“A rough stone, no less, can you believe it! Brought to the honours of the city’s main square as a document – which rhymes with monument!”

“And besides, you can’t understand anything, it doesn’t represent anything!”

“There isn’t even a scrap of explanation!”

And so the small human being, his honour wounded, cries scandal; his indignation overflows unrestrained on learning that the culprit of such an outrage is… an artist – a woman, yes: and at that point he very nearly starts a petition, demanding damages and an exemplary punishment!

He makes enquiries, and is even disappointed, poor thing, to learn that “since we live in a civilised society, this (what a pity!) cannot be done”.

But fate has him meet a friend who knows his business, above all in the strategies of envious belittling of other people’s work, and there it is: a flash of genius, and the solution is found.

Brushing aside the grim grumbling and the sly sneer, it is… good old regional state television that sets things straight: first, the by now habitual muffled coverage, a boycott done to a turn…

Then, since that did not seem enough as a reprisal, a peppery touch is added, worthy of Kurgan ancestors… and there on the table is the handy recipe: “attempted denigration through ridicule”…

Under the pretext of irony, through a pseudo-”Blob” kitsch montage, a sublime subliminal message is broadcast urbi et orbi, insinuating, with great elegance and gallantry, nothing less than the alleged insanity of the artist, compared to mad cow disease, the cross and delight of the third millennium.

(Not to mention that by now even the fleas know it is time to stop going on about that poor animal which – not content with exploiting it mercilessly and intensively and devouring it daily, and not ashamed of having made it mortally ill, we humans, with our criminal methods – we end up calling mad as well!)

A doubt arises in me: in all this something is not right!

I dare not think what could have happened in other times, or even today in other places, when women’s silence was(?) absolute and anyone who expresse(d?) themselves in a non-conformist way had to suffer atrocious punishments!

Still, these are hardly caresses!

Oh well! How sad!

I am thinking of packing the cardboard suitcase that sits in the storeroom of my mind – the one tied with string, with “EMIGRANT” written on it – when suddenly…

I hear the stone… speak… It conveys to me, in a clear, ancient voice, millions of years old, its sweet, calm wisdom:

Born in a place of stone

I

I, stone,
fundamental element,
heart of the Earth and Earth myself
in the primitive form in which you chose me,
am within you, eternal matter.

II

I am the place of myth,
the house of the Fairies,
I am the Enchanted Mountain,
the bones of Mother Earth,
dwelling of the deity, a deity myself,
I am the Navel of the world,
the Lotus of the Universe…

III

I, rough stone,
not yet touched by the hand of man,
am the symbol of integrity;
not yet subdued by civilisation,
which hides my infinite power
layered over millennia,
I embody freedom and therefore
liberation from all conformism,
from ignorance,
from every prejudice.

IV

I contain the silicon of your bones,
the chip of proud computers,
the wafer
that is their living cell…

V

And you, little eccentric Teri,
why ever should you be embittered?
If making art is thought to be madness,
I assure you: blessed be it,
if it keeps us from resignation.
Long live, I tell you, madness,
if it saves us from homologation,
from ignorance, from greed…
from careerism,
from meanness,
from a petty life where all that counts
is power and money…

VI

I, wise stone, am more than certain
that if, instead of laughing or doing harm,
they could listen to my voice,
which surely cannot deceive them,
they could truly make blossom
every curious mind
and every heart.

VII

That total naturalness of mine,
which you experienced with great respect,
thinking of and delivering the great boulders
to the ancient heart of your city
so that everyone could see,
reminds you humans of the importance
of a new love for Mother Earth
and of the search for that harmony
which you, little en-chanting friend,
already convey to us with your colours…

VIII

And as for running away, my dear,
you will not easily manage it:
you would feel my bittersweet weight
in every place, even the farthest,
because you were born in a place of stone…
and you carry it with you, for ever.

IX

As for the detractors, have no fear:
some are perhaps… inattentive,
but many others are friends and admirers;
and as for the remaining ill-wishers,
don’t you think there is Providence?
Follow the advice of your friend Nievo!
Pay them no heed, and… pass beyond.

X

You used me, yes, but with love;
together with me you built a “centre”,
you created, for a brief great time,
an instrument of inner search.
In the middle of the coldest time of year,
right at the beginning of a new era,
you offered an invitation to presence,
a monument of meditation
on our truest and deepest self.

XI

And let it be enough for you to have done it.
For the artist, all the rest is extra.

XII

And now, finally, do not forget:
as you continue this search of yours,
respect the path of others too –
not everyone is the same on the way.

XIII

Carry out and give numinous experiences;
what matters, surely, is the awareness
of having completed the work. Beautifully.
Do what you think strong and right,
paying no heed to blah blah blah blah…
And remember – above all – that the artist
must not please the culture
but rather unsettle it a little.
I will protect you: go, and be at peace…

So spoke the stone,
and it was the Foremothers
who had spoken together with it.
The same matter, mineral wisdom,
smile and heartbeat of the pulsing Universe.

Teri Volini, Potenza, 1 February 2001 (translated from the Italian)