By Giulia Piceni. Cover image by Lorenzo Risani.
Provinciale is Giulia Piceni’s graduation curatorial project. It’s a publication that redefines the unconventional beauty of Pianura Padana through contemporary art and storytelling. This publication combines artist interviews and curated narrative texts, creating a journey of rediscovery and growth within a provincial landscape. In this context, requalification happens in the minds of those living in this area, acknowledging the unique landscape without physically altering it.
This article explores the profound connections between place, memory, and identity as art breathes new life into the foggy horizons of this marginal geographic area.
Provinciale unveils Pianura Padana’s unconventional beauty
Why did such a curatorial need arise?
Provinciale is a publication that focuses on writing and contemporary arts. Its three chapters aim to provide a personal narrative about the Pianura Padana, a lesser-known area of Italy.
Before we get into that, let’s clarify the title. As I was writing for this project, I realised that I had only ever used the word provinciale in a demeaning way, as I had never fully appreciated the place I come from. This led me to the main goal of this project: to reevaluate and give value to the misty landscape of my home.
In this sense, it is important to display the works of various artists on paper because there is a connection between text and artwork. The page is a natural environment for words, and since creative writing is my main curatorial practice, I thought I might want to emphasise that.
Text and artworks play are equally important, and even the graphic layout of the page aims to highlight this by presenting them on the same level of importance. The text has enough space to be displayed clearly, while the artworks are given a white cube background that showcases them effectively.
Introduction: bridging 80s slogans and Post-war literature
The project starts with a personal experience related to my geographic area, the Pianura Padana. It’s a region caught between agricultural traditions and a partially realised progressive vision. I’ve never considered it to be conventionally beautiful and have often dismissed it as provincial, as mentioned in the introductory text Senza sputare nel piatto in cui si ha mangiato.
While writing the introductory curatorial texts, I watched a documentary on Jenny Holzer’s Truisms: a series of sculptures on paper that presented undeniable truths, originally created by Holzer on paper. Although they reference a reality far away in space and time (New York in the 1980s), I selected eighteen truisms that resonated with my experience in the province and presented them to the readers of the publication. Much like how Holzer’s Truisms critique and capture the social and economic landscape of her time, Provinciale aims to offer insight into the reading of a landscape that is shaped by those who inhabit it.
I connected my project to Cesare Pavese’s La luna e i falò (1949). In the book, the protagonist, Anguilla, returns to his hometown in Piedmont after making a fortune abroad, mirroring my journey. The eel (Anguilla) represents a return to one’s origins, much like the protagonist who struggles to find peace. The eel, born in the Sargasso Sea and travelling to the Po Valley, reflects the duality of belonging and returning.
At the beginning of this project, I felt a sense of displacement, similar to Anguilla’s condition. A quote from the Biennale by Cecilia Alemanni captured this initial atmosphere: “Every character in a video tale is a displaced, dishevelled book, a mistranslated text. We are like the characters we read, restless bodies obsessed without misapprehensions. Elliptical and misaligned, we spin on axes of our own grinding. We lurk in our murk; we are miasma”.
Redefining curatorial text through narrative
Before we start looking at the actual selection of the artworks, it’s important to explain the chapter structure. Each chapter begins with an artist’s name, images of the artwork, and a verbatim interview that provides a comprehensive understanding of the work and artistic practice, almost as if you were visiting the artist’s studio.
Furthermore, each chapter begins with a narrative curatorial text divided into three parts, followed by a conclusion that narrates a man’s return to his hometown and contemplates the possibility of growth within a provincial setting. A nameless and faceless character gives voice to ideas inspired by the book written by Pavese, which I mentioned earlier, as well as my personal background. From a curatorial standpoint, this short story aims to explain the succession of the artworks while presenting a journey of rediscovery through the various elements that the artworks represent.
Exploring the artists and the chapters of Provinciale
The first chapter, titled Nebbia, l’Oltre is dedicated to a peculiar element of Pianura Padana’s landscape: the fog. The first artwork, Panorama Imaginare (2021) by the artist and farmer Luca Boffi, aligns two antipodal horizons – Deauville and his countryside – to explain the provincial dimension better. The diptych No Worries Darling (2022) by Cecilia De Nisco, with foggy brushstrokes, captures memories and the uncertainties of an adolescence spent in between wheat fields and the end of the season’ bonfires.
Featuring the work of the artist Filippo Minelli, the second chapter, Padania uguale Grottesco, focuses on the landscape to reveal human dynamics. With this ongoing photographic series of Padanian Classics, Minelli captures the grotesque beauty of Pianura Padana, significantly shaped by the region’s conservative governments.
Through the works of Edoardo Manzoni and Alessandro Agudio, the last chapter, Interno, Esterno, Liminale, explores the connection between the external landscape and the internal, emotional experience, as well as the liminal qualities that are ever-present in this marginal area. Manzoni’s pieces explore hunting and human presence in nature, while Agudio transforms hay bales into design objects, blending natural and industrial landscapes. Additionally, Agudio’s Residence Acquario photographic series captures emotional internal landscapes, reflecting a personal connection to the external environment.
Spotting the recurring element
In this publication, I included two quotes from the same book, Altri libertini (1980) by Pier Vittorio Tondelli, one of the major postmodern writers of marginality. The first quote, which opens the publication and describes the starting point of my research, describes the sorrows of living in the province and the dull and depressing allure of that lifestyle. In contrast, the closing quote is an invitation to rediscover forgotten and dismissed places.
