“Molti” by Antonio Biasiucci
On the occasion of Photo London
Exhibition Opening
Antonio Biasiucci was born in Dragoni (Caserta) in 1961. In 1980 he moved to Naples starting a project focused on urban suburbs together with a research on personal memory, taking photos of rituals and settings of his native village. In 1984 he started a collaboration with Vesuvius Observatory investigating the activity of the vulcanos in Italy. In 1987 he met Antonio Neiwiller, theatre director and actor starting a collaboration that will last till 1993, year of his death. Since the earliest years of his artistic career, Biasiucci has focused on issues concerning the culture of Southern Italy; in recent years, he has embarked on a journey into the primary elements of what it is to be alive. He has won many top accolades, including in 1992, the “European Kodak Panorama” prize at Arles, and in 2005 the “Kraszna/Krausz Photography Book Awards” for his book Res. Lo stato delle cose (2004); that same year he also won the “Premio Bastianelli”, and in 2016 Sorrento Culture Award. He has had countless one-man shows and taken part in group shows, festivals and national and international exhibitions.
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The story told by Antonio Biasiucci, starring Rouaf and set on the island of Chios struck me at once as the perfect parable about teaching. I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than an art being passed on like in a relay race. Both plural and singular at the same time, this unique team race opens up the collective experience to the individual athlete, whereby the latter must pass an object to one of their teammates. The object, known in English as a baton, goes in Italian by a more evocative testimone, i.e. witness – whose Greek equivalent gave us the word martyr. And just like in this relational race, the story of Antonio and Rouaf – the photographer and the student – takes us to the heart of every teaching activity.
Montaigne said it best: “Education” – and I’m going by heart here, in keeping with his example – “is the kindling of a flame, not the filling of a vessel.” In truth, his words are rooted in antiquity, going all the way back to Plutarch: “The mind is not a vessel to be filled; instead, much like kindling, all it needs is a spark to ignite it and give it the impulse to seek, and a blazing love for truth.”
The meaning of the quote lies entirely in a metaphorical leap. The juxtaposition between water and fire is not a mere embellishment – instead, it describes the teacher’s attitude. Since combustion is prone to spreading, the art lies in being able to pass the blazing baton on to a successor, who in turn will pass it on to someone else, thus establishing continuity within a community.
Adding a further layer of meaning to the adventure of the great polyptych is an unexpected obstacle thrown in the teacher’s path. He is denied entrance to the refugee camp. Not even the most masterful of playwrights could have conjured up a similar plot twist. Now the artist is prevented from accessing the very stuff of his art. No eye, no hand, no body – his presence is forbidden. Hence, just like in One thousand and one nights, the need to come up with a look-alike, a double, an alter ego tasked with replacing the original.
In our modern high-tech world, it might seem more obvious to resort to some remote-controlled device – bugs, drones or hidden cameras. Instead, Antonio draws on ancient wisdom and entrusts the task to another human – who, it should be noted, is younger than him. The outcome is the birth of a new photographer. Bearing the magical seal that is his sky-blue bracelet, the messenger can finally cross the threshold forbidden to his master, taking over his work and seeing it through.
At this point, the novice’s mistakes lose significance. Even though Biasiucci identifies some “focus issues” (and isn’t focusing light a means to start a fire?), the fire has been passed on and the teaching has been accomplished. And so, on a remote Aegean island, the age-old aesthetic miracle of Italian Renaissance workshops has come full circle.
Valerio Magrelli