Supported and promoted by Casagialla
Organised by Giacomo Montanelli
«And I still remember the smell of the azaleas that grew in the vases on the balustrades, upstairs where we paused taking part in the continuous parties and receptions of our guest.There was not a single moment when some of us were moved by suspicion, by the desire to lower our eyes to the baseboard and stretch our fingers into the holes and cavities.These, in the dark, appeared as oversights of servants, ash stains from the fireplace or knots of the wood and who knows what else we have left hint in our disinterest.
Looking back to what I remember (and to what I cannot omit) I say here, without remorse, not to regret accepting every invitation, having taken part and enjoyed the hospitality granted to me.
The pleasure of participating and spending my time there reassured me to see myself as a friend of such a hi- gh-class person, to see me and feel for short moments a noble, upright and sophisticated person. Several times I approached the backsplashes, the chocolatiers and the cups placed along the table without chairs. Several times
I found myself surprising myself with the refinement (and charm) of a banquet that grouped, uncannily, disparate sophistication.
Reaching then a posthumous lucidity, no one (yet again) wondered the reason for such sophistication, often the stuffed eggs, the candied grapes and the truffle tartlets slipped awkwardly on the neighbor’s shoe between laughters and sometimes endless controversy.
We stood elegantly always standing, the inconvenience of using both hands required the search for surfaces for glas- ses, cutlery or simply a rest to rest your legs.
As in every remarkable event the technical impediment sometimes caused minor damage, I remember the slipping of the glasses on the floor boards and the wine often staininig all the socks. I remember myself mortified and annoyed to raise my pants and dab the disaster with my handkerchief, from the ankles to the parquet floor.
Without any help I still see myself today untangling some fragment of glass from the intersection of leather laces. Despite this I often passed the final moments of the reception hoping and thinking in the invitation to the next (inconvenient) event.
It was a long time later, when I quitted attending his house, that the news spread, I did not pay much attention in part because I had no reason to complain about any abuse, in the second instance it was not immediately clear what had happened and what had been discovered.
Not surprisingly, then I learned that we diners were lost at someone else’s party, stopping for a moment in a thea- ter open to unknown guests who, invisible and from impossible prospective focuses, made our presence, of our slow walking, the object of their pleasure and motivated perversion.
And it is still the scent of azaleas that still accompanies me, when I think about the people behind the walls, with the cheeks pressed on the floor of the interspaces, the eyes well fixed in the peepholes of the baseboard that we had so carelessly seemed in the dark, servants oversights, ash stains from the chimney, knots of the wood.»
Filippo De Marchi
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Villa Vertua Masolo, Via Garibaldi 1 – Nova Milanese
Saturday from 15.30 to 18.30; Sunday from 10.00 to 12.00 / from 15.30 to 18.00.
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