Biancofango

Because adolescence is a sunrise and a farewell at the same time. Because it’s a no return. It’s an unlimited opportunity. It is a stumbling block, the beginning of which you can’t see. It is an interrupted word looking for a way to smoothly flow. But it can’t find it. It stays there. Closed in a claustrophobic and naively exciting space-time. A multitude of sixteen-seventeen-year-olds coming from different Roman schools lived in the India theatre in Rome from October to December 2012 to build a project that talks about them through them, starting from them. That tells about the distance, the absence, the loss, the mourning of a world of the adults who often has neither the time nor the space nor the desire to approach and listen. A world that loses its way, a world so accustomed and familiar in getting lost that it doesn’t notice what is happening a few meters away. And a few meters away, at seventeen, someone turns his back on life with the same energy or the same apathy with which he would listen to the music, with his bowed head – headphones in his ears – the hood on his head, with which he would play on the play station or would ride a scooter. And looking at them from afar, Rimbaud’s words come back to mind: no, you can’t be serious at seventeen