TURIN: THE METAMORPHOSIS OF A CITY

This collection of new, original and unpublished photos of Turin illustrates the difference between taking snapshots here and there and conducting an inquiry, a research in the field that goes beyond merely glancing and looking around, and peers into the heart of things. It is in the nature of photos to seize and freeze the details of everything that passes by. But then, as in this case, when they are legion and have a common theme coupled with the art of the photographer, they form a mosaic whereby the whole is gained through the organic sum of the parts. The importance of details, of course, no one can deny. Here, however, there are two opposing camps, one asserting that they are the hiding place of God, the other of the devil. There is, indeed, always someone ready to hide in details. If this is God, then His purpose is to remind us that the salvation of our souls does not depend so much on complicated theological constructions as on little everyday gestures devoid of any apparent significance, whereas the devil does his beat to ensure that we overlook the details, and hence that our mighty projects come to naught and fall to the ground because someone forgot to tighten the last screw. It is thus both just and sacrosanct that details be flushed out, described and illustrated. And if this is done by an artist-photographer such as Livio Bourbon, so much the better, we shall have the extra advantage of an aesthetic dimension. The first important outcome of this patient census is its cancellation of the stereotypes attached as «nuff said» labels to Turin: a boring, grey, square, predictable factory town. Or at best the laboratory town where solutions to social problems are tried out so that others can queue up and take them over when it is shown that they work. A workers’ city devoted to the cult of a job well done, a city that has adopted the motto of the Alpini: «Yours but to do and die». As much as to say, Erminio Macario was from Turin as are Luciana Littizzetto and Piero Chiambretti. The city’s Murazzi (Embankments), a series of quays beside the Po between Piazza Vittorio Veneto and the Gran Madre Bridge, are the scene of a nightlife not to be found even in Rome or Milan, together with the so-called Quadrilateral (the area of the original Roman settlement) in the Quartier Latin style, or more recently with the Docks Dora. How many people realise that the apéritif spread to the whole of Italy from Turin? Through a topographical association it is at Porta Palazzo, right beside the Quadrilateral, that the Balon is held every Saturday. This name – pronounced «balloon» – comes from Borgata del Pallone, the 18th-century name of the district. It refers to one of Europe’s largest flea markets that once a month is transformed into the Gran Balon, an open-air antiques market. Two of Italy’s four circus schools prosper in Turin, equally the home of belly dancing and hieroglyphics schools. Second to Buenos Aires alone, Turin boasts the largest number of schools and places where the tango is taught and duly performed. A word or two must also be devoted to Turin’s «sounds». It is surely not common knowledge that the singer-songwriter Fred Buscaglione (1922-1960) was born in Turin like Nini Rosso, and like Rita Pavone and I Righeira, popular in the Sixties and Seventies respectively. SettembreMusica made its debut in Turin in 1978. In 1980, Bob Marley held one of his two Italian concerts in the city and greatly influenced the (believe it or not!) Turinese reggae of the Africa Unite. Rock groups – Max Casacci’s Subsonica, the Mau Mau, Perturbazione and Statuto – have been active and known abroad since the Nineties. In July 2004, the Traffic Turin Free Festival attracted 200,000 spectators in the city’s Pellerina Park. Lastly, and in quite another setting, Turin’s magic club has three hundred active members. Is this, then, a grey, boring city where nothing ever happens? As the great comedian Totò (1898-1967), a Neapolitan scion who did his military service at Cuneo just down the road from Turin, would have said: «Tell that to the horse marines!»
[..]