A cappuccino in the morning. At first glance luxurious and creamy. Sensual foam in classic Italian style swelling over the rims. Thousands of years of culture, compressed and roasted, this brew prepares you for the exercises of daily life. Allenamento; Exercise. I hear them talk about ruins and biblical stories and I squint my eyes and see an index of all our sins. One I recognize is witchcraft. Something eerie resides in this sort of manifestation of human wisdom and I’m not sure if it’s the dead or alive serving this coffee. Just like with the cappuccino, as you sip your way through it, the cream disappears, it gets darker, your heart starts beating faster. But as we all know – I prefer espresso. The darker the better. Turin is famous for ghosts and I can feel them peeping at me from the walls, behind the columns. I spin around to see who’s there, but they are hiding in the blank spaces.
Teasing me and sending me encrypted messages through loose letters. You try to make sense of the morning paper with coffee gravels in your teeth and a rumbling stomach. You are, indeed awake, watching the world around you. And as you do, hell is starting to look more and more attractive. Let us in! Let all of us in! Let all of us ruin the ruins! The fire downstairs is an enigmatic light at the end of the grotta. It could be a rebirth. Burn it to the ground, make room for new theories about balance. When these dimensions meet, earthlings and celestial beings are brought into a philosophical conversation for the public.
And the experience – da non perdere!
By Nicolina Eklund