The waves of the web, those that suddenly generate trends and ways of saying, before the unexpected undertow and before moving to other “fashion” built on the net, few time ago they also aimed at Molise. A Molise manhandled by comments and social gags that would even deny his real existence. “Molise does not exist”. But with delicacy infused with daily gestures and enterprising art projects, there is a tiny village that, is trying to re-emerge, catalyzing for a few fragments of time the attention of a nation and a globe.
In Civitacampomarano, near Campobasso, 400 souls that are almost half due to those have recently decided to move, some street artists accepted the invite for the second edition of CVTà Street Fest, a colorful and synergistic teamwork between “indigenous” and foreigners under the artistic direction of Alice Pasquini, an iconic Roman street artist known all over the world as AliCè, and under the organization of Pro Loco “Vincenzo Cuoco”.
From 1 to 4 June, it was possible to appreciate the artistic works of Italians Gola Hundun and Maria Pia Picozza, Polish Nespoon, Argentine Francisco Bosoletti and Brazilian Alex Senna. From the name (“CVTà” a dialectical sound that the locals use to call their village) the idea and the feeling that surround the event are intuited: tradition and modernity mix themselves without altering the crystallized equilibrium of a old and alone population who lives, both physically and ideologically, in another reality.
The ideal crasis is all in the cover image of the festival: the wrinkly and witty hands of a lady the embroider the logo of the event. So along the narrow streets of the village there were no gigantic murals, so in vogue in the recent global street art works, and especially the first ones to enjoy these permanent works were not experts, but who (and this is not a way of saying) probably has never seen a spray can. In conclusion, the artists have adapted to the walls without affecting their timelessness.
In this crumb of identity, street art is fruitful giving birth to a message of rebirth and endurance. A not banal and indifferent concept: last year, the artist Biancoshock played with the provocation “The Molise does not exist” giving a red spray can to a guy with which he crossed the word “does not exist”, adding “resists “. In Civitacampomarano there are souls who have chosen to die here and who swell their chests claiming existence. The existence of a Italy that is depopulating and crumbling. A slow and progressive landslide threatens the village since the beginning of 2017 with serious damage to the buildings, evident cracks on the walls and broken streets. Some damaged structures, such as the same municipal offices, have been abandoned, as are some houses, but people don’t want to throw in the towel and want to fight to not let the village die.
CVTà Street Fest can only soothe pain, applying itself as a contrast to exodus and giving generously color, hope and a breeze of youth: a spring that repopulates the streets with enthusiastic boys who, through organized tours, run in search of murals. But who comes from the South of Italy or who has come into contact with the inhabitants of the South, knows that their peculiarity is hospitality: therefore, was it possible to imagine the women with their hands in hand? No of course, and in this connection, among the fragrant alleys of Civitacampomarano, women wore their apron cooking five typical dishes of the place: rice with milk (ris cu latt), fried bread (pan ‘nrat), corn pizza with Savoy cabbage (pizz and fogl), scrippelle (scr’pell’) and chickpeas (i cic). So stuff that can compete with renowned chefs’ dishes: that it reason Rubio has pulled off the chef’s clothes to dress those of the photographer with the intent of making a reportage on this singular and exciting experience.
There is food, there is beer (Peroni is sponsor of the initiative) there is the smell of paint. To complete the five senses we need some music and here is back dj Gruff, the toe of the Italian rap scene, who, last year, played with the grandparents of Civitacampomarano with amazing mix of vintage notes, catch in garrets or attics.
Here, the heart is pulsating again: it has its own rhythm, it has its time. It exists, resists and beats with the adrenaline noise of the spray coming out of the can.
CREDIT PHOTO – COVER N TEXT – ALESSIA DI RISIO