It’s not a secret that Tor Pignattara is one of my favourite areas in all of Rome, and the overabundance of street art that one can find wandering around here is just one of the things that I love about this multicultural neighbourhood the most.
When it doesn’t hit the headlines, Fontanelle is a quiet neighbourhood.
I loved Pescara for being so silent, and yet the city gets even more serene in Fontanelle. The neighbourhood is pervaded by a calming hush, which is occasionally interrupted by a church bell rung from the top of a little hill.
Even if I arrived only two days ago, the abandoned factory VEB Spezialmaschinenfabrik has already changed a lot.
I remember the first-day feeling of walking on glass debris while venturing into the empty belly of the whale and through its dark bowels.
When the afternoon light entering from the broken panes and cutting diagonally the air was the most tangible thing in a room.
I had just thrown myself on the bed when one of Nuart‘s organisers texted that they were having a magic time at the festival’s headquarters, where Axel Void was playing some nice tunes. Without thinking twice, I opened my umbrella and ventured back into the Stavanger night. But, when I arrived at Tou Scene, I only found a bunch of artists scattered lazily around the main room: they looked like they had spent the afternoon painting and were just about to sit down, someone was smoking, someone else was sipping a beer, and all of them were staring at their phones or laptops, including Axel Void, who definitely wasn’t playing any music.
When I saw Bordalo II’s stunning racoon in Belem, my first thought was ‘where did he find all those pieces of trash?’
Little did I know that soon I was going to regret that wonder, while I was getting to know how difficult it can be to get some pieces of garbage to hang on a wall.
Because yes, this time, I was Bordalo II’s trash-buddy. And it was crazy. ☺