-ISM
PARAGON, LA MADDALENA, SARDIGNA, 2018
These ruins of past ideals now contribute to the exquisite richness of Caprera, they have become relics, and are just as valuable as the natural heritage.Today, the protection of the island’s natural and archaeological heritage seems to require protection from the people it attracts. The archipelago is overseen by theNational Park Administration which restrict access and limit potential uses.How can we apply these limitations, with the honorable aim of protecting the heritage, without denying the true strength of Capera, based on the accumulation of heterogeneous traces with strong ambitions and identities? How can Caprera remaina tool of reconnection despite its insularity? We propose to offer a framework for settlers to bring forth and give form to actual heterotopias bearing values of their own.
Each participant has defined and designed one bridge to embody the values of possible settlers of Caprera, either historically real of entirely fictious. The outoput for each has been one plan, one image, and one short story narrating an arrival to their bridge.
Elisabetta Donati de Conti
Porco Ponte
Oh, I remember when I was living on the island. I couldn’t have been more happy than on Caprera, everything was perfect: entire fields to dig, constantly e enough to keep the muddy environment I loved, hills with fresh fruits falling from colorful trees, beds of straws to rub on.
All was amazing, expecially since they had installed that new bridge in the south. I’ve heard that’s based on some algorythms and that it’s mathematically impossible that it fails in helping us mantaining our perfect paradise. I know for sure that my cousin Ponfyf have seen it once, but I haven’t met him after.
Caprera was fantastic. Days were passing from a relaxing walk to another, contemplating the stars at night and feeling hints in foods that never tasted so good. I used to have many friends who to dig with and we had great times, digging here and digging there, passionate and creative in our practice.
Then I understood. In the middle of a night we were all waken up by an deafening noise of sirens and alarms. Everyone started to panic, “demographic limit exceeded” was written in red on some black pixels screens. “Demographic limit exceeded” continued to say a metallic voice. In this overwhelming confusion I wasn’t able to locate the voice, where was it coming from? Was it coming from the bridge? And then I can just remember to have been strongly attracted towards it.
A series of screams and blood it’s the last image in my memories.
Aww, how fantastic could have been our lives if they just would have left us alone on the island without interfering. But we were not the owners of our destiny, and we will never be. How fantastic could have been if we just have learnt from our mistakes, if we just have tried to change our behaviours. But now it is too late. Now that I am a sausage.
Porco Ponte
Oh, I remember when I was living on the island. I couldn’t have been more happy than on Caprera, everything was perfect: entire fields to dig, constantly e enough to keep the muddy environment I loved, hills with fresh fruits falling from colorful trees, beds of straws to rub on.
All was amazing, expecially since they had installed that new bridge in the south. I’ve heard that’s based on some algorythms and that it’s mathematically impossible that it fails in helping us mantaining our perfect paradise. I know for sure that my cousin Ponfyf have seen it once, but I haven’t met him after.
Caprera was fantastic. Days were passing from a relaxing walk to another, contemplating the stars at night and feeling hints in foods that never tasted so good. I used to have many friends who to dig with and we had great times, digging here and digging there, passionate and creative in our practice.
Then I understood. In the middle of a night we were all waken up by an deafening noise of sirens and alarms. Everyone started to panic, “demographic limit exceeded” was written in red on some black pixels screens. “Demographic limit exceeded” continued to say a metallic voice. In this overwhelming confusion I wasn’t able to locate the voice, where was it coming from? Was it coming from the bridge? And then I can just remember to have been strongly attracted towards it.
A series of screams and blood it’s the last image in my memories.
Aww, how fantastic could have been our lives if they just would have left us alone on the island without interfering. But we were not the owners of our destiny, and we will never be. How fantastic could have been if we just have learnt from our mistakes, if we just have tried to change our behaviours. But now it is too late. Now that I am a sausage.
Flavia Rossi
Sorrotity of the moon
La Maddalena 10/09/2018
15 nights to Full Moon
Dear diary,
Tomorrow night I’m going to start my trip on the bridge with other young girls like me. We are meeting at 9 pm. I’m so excited!
Sara will bring some biscuits, I hope not to forget anything and not to miss my parents too much. The trip is going to last 28 days.
Yours,
F.
La Maddalena 14/09/2018
10 nights to Full Moon
Dear Diary,
We have been living on the bridge for four days now. The bridge is a kind of a huge stairway, everyday we have to go down by ten steps and stop at the landing where there are four rooms: one for toilets, one is a bedroom where we all sleep together, one is a kitchen and the last one contains cells in which we can stay alone. We have to provide ourselves with food and to cook it, keep everything clean.. It is similar to a summer camp! I’m really enjoying it.
It’s important to share these days with other girls in this way: we have the time to know each other, trying to get along well but also the time to stay alone in those little rooms I told you before. I watch my body a lot in the mirrors.
I only knew Sara before coming here, but the other girls are also quite nice. I just don’t like Francesca too much because she talks a lot about boys.
Yours,
F.
La Maddalena 19/09/2018
5 nights to Full Moon
Dear Diary,
It’s around 6 am and I can’t sleep so I’m writing to you. I’m lying on the landing. I suppose it is going to be a sunny day, but maybe too windy. I can’t see the sun and the sky above me because of the sheets that cover the entire bridge towards the center.
During the night I usually watch the stars through the windows. It seems like their brightness is fading as they are becoming shadowed by the moonlight.
Sorrotity of the moon
La Maddalena 10/09/2018
15 nights to Full Moon
Dear diary,
Tomorrow night I’m going to start my trip on the bridge with other young girls like me. We are meeting at 9 pm. I’m so excited!
Sara will bring some biscuits, I hope not to forget anything and not to miss my parents too much. The trip is going to last 28 days.
Yours,
F.
La Maddalena 14/09/2018
10 nights to Full Moon
Dear Diary,
We have been living on the bridge for four days now. The bridge is a kind of a huge stairway, everyday we have to go down by ten steps and stop at the landing where there are four rooms: one for toilets, one is a bedroom where we all sleep together, one is a kitchen and the last one contains cells in which we can stay alone. We have to provide ourselves with food and to cook it, keep everything clean.. It is similar to a summer camp! I’m really enjoying it.
It’s important to share these days with other girls in this way: we have the time to know each other, trying to get along well but also the time to stay alone in those little rooms I told you before. I watch my body a lot in the mirrors.
I only knew Sara before coming here, but the other girls are also quite nice. I just don’t like Francesca too much because she talks a lot about boys.
Yours,
F.
La Maddalena 19/09/2018
5 nights to Full Moon
Dear Diary,
It’s around 6 am and I can’t sleep so I’m writing to you. I’m lying on the landing. I suppose it is going to be a sunny day, but maybe too windy. I can’t see the sun and the sky above me because of the sheets that cover the entire bridge towards the center.
During the night I usually watch the stars through the windows. It seems like their brightness is fading as they are becoming shadowed by the moonlight.
I can’t wait to see the Full Moon! My mother put inside my bag my most beautiful dress and a special pair of slips to wear during that night. I’m so curios about what I’m going to find in the middle of the bridge. We have to reach that point on Monday night.
Yours,
F.
La Maddalena 25/09/2018
The day after Full Moon
Dear Diary,
It was just amazing!! Yesterday evening, after dinner, we went down the last ten steps and we arrived in a circular empty area, divided by a little transparent bridge. I took Sara by the hand and while we were passing this bridge the Moon appeared like a projection on the black sea below us. It was huge! We could have seen all its craters.
Some girls decided not to cross the bridge immediately. They entered two rooms to watch the scene from the windows. They were the most shy.
I think I’ll never forget that moment: the Moon was moving like dancing on the surface of the water.
Yours,
F.
Caprera 08/10/2018
Caprera and the so called New Moon
Dear Diary,
Sorry for not writing to you for such a long time. I needed to reflect upon this experience.
During the last fourteen days we climbed the stairs until we reached Caprera, the island in which we are still now. It was such a symbolic journey! I feel I’m changed.
Caprera seems to me like a place without time, I am feeling both lost and stronger.
Yours,
F.
Yours,
F.
La Maddalena 25/09/2018
The day after Full Moon
Dear Diary,
It was just amazing!! Yesterday evening, after dinner, we went down the last ten steps and we arrived in a circular empty area, divided by a little transparent bridge. I took Sara by the hand and while we were passing this bridge the Moon appeared like a projection on the black sea below us. It was huge! We could have seen all its craters.
Some girls decided not to cross the bridge immediately. They entered two rooms to watch the scene from the windows. They were the most shy.
I think I’ll never forget that moment: the Moon was moving like dancing on the surface of the water.
Yours,
F.
Caprera 08/10/2018
Caprera and the so called New Moon
Dear Diary,
Sorry for not writing to you for such a long time. I needed to reflect upon this experience.
During the last fourteen days we climbed the stairs until we reached Caprera, the island in which we are still now. It was such a symbolic journey! I feel I’m changed.
Caprera seems to me like a place without time, I am feeling both lost and stronger.
Yours,
F.
Romina Totaro
Voluntary tourism
After reading some months ago about this new incredible tourist itinerary, I soon booked a week there during my summer vacation for me and my family. It seems to be perfect both as a family venue that for a trip with your friend. It also seems to be the one and only place right now to practice this type of trip. During the past three months everyone was talking about it, the tourism points were always full of people trying to get information, and the online blogs were exploding with posts of people narrating their experience there.
It was a difficult 15 hours trip, but we were all very excited. After two plane, two bus and a ferry we arrived to La Maddalena. The time arrived, we were finally getting to The Floating Cruise: an enormous, attractive bridge that allowed people to get to the fantastic Island of Caprera.
They say Caprera is this small unique island in the northern part of Sardinia. Five years ago they blocked every tourism trace to preserve the speciality of the area. This year opened this bridge that tries to reach the other side, but always for preservation reasons only some lucky people can go every day directly on the island. We didn’t exactly know how this method worked when we arrived, but we were sure that we would be part of this small group of people.
The Floating Cruise was already full of life and people, everyone seemed to be busy doing something, I don’t know exactly what anyway. You could see the see from two lateral walkways, but the bridge was so full of activities that no one was actually paying attention to it. We soon went to the check-in of our accommodation: a small circular space with only a bed inside of it, but it was fine because why would spend time inside doing nothing while being surrounded by so many things.
With my wife I soon went to an immense infinity pool where you could watch directly to the beautiful sea, but after a few minutes a bell ringed. At the end of the bridge there was this huge door with a clock over it, where it started a countdown 59 seconds.
Voluntary tourism
After reading some months ago about this new incredible tourist itinerary, I soon booked a week there during my summer vacation for me and my family. It seems to be perfect both as a family venue that for a trip with your friend. It also seems to be the one and only place right now to practice this type of trip. During the past three months everyone was talking about it, the tourism points were always full of people trying to get information, and the online blogs were exploding with posts of people narrating their experience there.
It was a difficult 15 hours trip, but we were all very excited. After two plane, two bus and a ferry we arrived to La Maddalena. The time arrived, we were finally getting to The Floating Cruise: an enormous, attractive bridge that allowed people to get to the fantastic Island of Caprera.
They say Caprera is this small unique island in the northern part of Sardinia. Five years ago they blocked every tourism trace to preserve the speciality of the area. This year opened this bridge that tries to reach the other side, but always for preservation reasons only some lucky people can go every day directly on the island. We didn’t exactly know how this method worked when we arrived, but we were sure that we would be part of this small group of people.
The Floating Cruise was already full of life and people, everyone seemed to be busy doing something, I don’t know exactly what anyway. You could see the see from two lateral walkways, but the bridge was so full of activities that no one was actually paying attention to it. We soon went to the check-in of our accommodation: a small circular space with only a bed inside of it, but it was fine because why would spend time inside doing nothing while being surrounded by so many things.
With my wife I soon went to an immense infinity pool where you could watch directly to the beautiful sea, but after a few minutes a bell ringed. At the end of the bridge there was this huge door with a clock over it, where it started a countdown 59 seconds.
The doors slowly opened and every one was starting to run really fast toward this exit. It happened all so fast that we couldn’t even exit from the pool, but even if had the opportunity to go there we had to wait for our kids, we had to do this together.
The days passed really fast, and every day we were busy doing something different: pools, water parks, game station, saunas, massage centre, and amazing local food, or at least they told as that.
But this is our last day on the bridge. We have our last opportunity to go to the other island. Someone saw people jumping directly to the water to reach the island, but I don’t know if they managed to come back, maybe not.
We kept our day free so that in every moment we can start to run to reach the gate. We just finished lunch and waiting for the coffee, but here it is, the bell is ringing. So we all start to run, fast, as fast as we could.
50 seconds; 35 seconds; 10 seconds; 5 seconds.
And here I am. Caprera. I’m starting to walk to take a general look, but soon I remember: “My family!”. I watch towards the bridge and I can’t see them, they must be locked in the bridge, but I really can’t miss this opportunity, I have to enjoy the experience.
So I walk, it has to be amazing. But all I’m seeing is trees, and a small beach not really distant, so I continue to go there. After some hours I see the other people that passed the gate with me and they don’t seem so happy either, someone started also complaining about the place. So maybe that’s it, this is the island, and now I can’t go anywhere else for the rest of the day, I can’t even go back to the bridge.
But at least I’m taking a bath in the see, I’m not sure it will be better of the infinity pool, but why not trying.
The days passed really fast, and every day we were busy doing something different: pools, water parks, game station, saunas, massage centre, and amazing local food, or at least they told as that.
But this is our last day on the bridge. We have our last opportunity to go to the other island. Someone saw people jumping directly to the water to reach the island, but I don’t know if they managed to come back, maybe not.
We kept our day free so that in every moment we can start to run to reach the gate. We just finished lunch and waiting for the coffee, but here it is, the bell is ringing. So we all start to run, fast, as fast as we could.
50 seconds; 35 seconds; 10 seconds; 5 seconds.
And here I am. Caprera. I’m starting to walk to take a general look, but soon I remember: “My family!”. I watch towards the bridge and I can’t see them, they must be locked in the bridge, but I really can’t miss this opportunity, I have to enjoy the experience.
So I walk, it has to be amazing. But all I’m seeing is trees, and a small beach not really distant, so I continue to go there. After some hours I see the other people that passed the gate with me and they don’t seem so happy either, someone started also complaining about the place. So maybe that’s it, this is the island, and now I can’t go anywhere else for the rest of the day, I can’t even go back to the bridge.
But at least I’m taking a bath in the see, I’m not sure it will be better of the infinity pool, but why not trying.
Francesco Simula
The found pieces
This story talks about a beautiful girl, Caprera
Once upon a tim Caprera, she was the most beautiful girl in the kingdom. She was so beautiful that every man in world desired stay with her.
One day the father, made crazy with the jealousy takes Caprera and broke her into many small pieces.
Back to normal, his father, began to look for caprera everywhere.
He discovered that the wind brought the pieces to a nearby island.
The found pieces
This story talks about a beautiful girl, Caprera
Once upon a tim Caprera, she was the most beautiful girl in the kingdom. She was so beautiful that every man in world desired stay with her.
One day the father, made crazy with the jealousy takes Caprera and broke her into many small pieces.
Back to normal, his father, began to look for caprera everywhere.
He discovered that the wind brought the pieces to a nearby island.
To recover the pieces he began to build a bridge. But every time he came back he built new routes to see a new corner of the island.
He spent a lot of time searching for the pieces of his daughter.
However, when he finally succeeded in his purpose he understood that now he couln't get her back.
He put the pieces in the bridge to contenplate what he had done..
Now the bridge still exists like monument like a puzzle over the water..
Every stone, every arm, every finger of this bridge represents an action to find the soul of Caprera, which now still lives in the form of a bridge.
He spent a lot of time searching for the pieces of his daughter.
However, when he finally succeeded in his purpose he understood that now he couln't get her back.
He put the pieces in the bridge to contenplate what he had done..
Now the bridge still exists like monument like a puzzle over the water..
Every stone, every arm, every finger of this bridge represents an action to find the soul of Caprera, which now still lives in the form of a bridge.
Hannah Beard
The Column of Solitude
Hannah awoke to the sound of clinking coming from the water’s edge. Rather like the sound of the miner’s tool in the granite quarry, yet this was more rhythmic, more systematic. Cogs turning, something moving… Hannah’s half-asleep brain was processing this noise, which was also accompanied by the slamming of doors and excited voices. Of course! The bridge! She leapt to her feet and clambered onto a stool to peer out of the boat’s circular window.
The bridge was formed of three parts. Exactly halfway between Caprera and La Maddalena stood a tall granite column and platform. Nobody was sure how and when this strange looking fortress was placed in this part of the ocean, meaning numerous stories had been formulated over the years. However, everyone seemed sure about its function, which was to connect the two halves of the bridge.
Hannah had often wondered why the bridge was cut into two halves that rarely joined and why it hadn’t been designed so you could cross it whenever you liked. Her father explained that it was to do with the wind: The wind was an extremely powerful force in the archipelago of La Maddalena, which could cause damage to the bridge and danger to those who crossed. Therefore, the bridges two halves spent most of their time nestled against the shoreline where they were protected from the elements. Only when the wind was low and the weather conditions perfect did the cogs turn, clinking systematically to turn the two halves to meet in the middle at the granite column.
The Column of Solitude
Hannah awoke to the sound of clinking coming from the water’s edge. Rather like the sound of the miner’s tool in the granite quarry, yet this was more rhythmic, more systematic. Cogs turning, something moving… Hannah’s half-asleep brain was processing this noise, which was also accompanied by the slamming of doors and excited voices. Of course! The bridge! She leapt to her feet and clambered onto a stool to peer out of the boat’s circular window.
The bridge was formed of three parts. Exactly halfway between Caprera and La Maddalena stood a tall granite column and platform. Nobody was sure how and when this strange looking fortress was placed in this part of the ocean, meaning numerous stories had been formulated over the years. However, everyone seemed sure about its function, which was to connect the two halves of the bridge.
Hannah had often wondered why the bridge was cut into two halves that rarely joined and why it hadn’t been designed so you could cross it whenever you liked. Her father explained that it was to do with the wind: The wind was an extremely powerful force in the archipelago of La Maddalena, which could cause damage to the bridge and danger to those who crossed. Therefore, the bridges two halves spent most of their time nestled against the shoreline where they were protected from the elements. Only when the wind was low and the weather conditions perfect did the cogs turn, clinking systematically to turn the two halves to meet in the middle at the granite column.
Hannah sped out of the door to join the crowds gathering in anticipation to watch this process. But something about the atmosphere seemed strange. There was more excitement than usual, but also fear. She suddenly noticed the strong wind whipping her hair all over the place. The weather conditions were wrong. The bridge should not be opening.
Every now and again this unexplainable phenomenon occurred and no one could explain it. Hannah had marked the dates of these unregulated bridge swings in her journal over the past two years but couldn’t identify a pattern. They seemed to be completely random and she was intrigued by such events. Her thoughts were interrupted as the bridge clunked into place. Now pieced together, the bridge became purposeful and grand, framing the granite column which became a gathering point.
Within moments, the bridge was transformed into a bustling street and Hannah was swept up in the moving crowds. Ever since she could remember, her favourite thing to do was to watch every one gathered around the granite column. She scrambled up on the bridge’s outer wall to get a better view. There, glancing up was where she saw it. Glinting between a crack in the granite column was a startled eye. It blinked, she gasped, the warning bell sounded. The bridge started to separate and panic broke out.
Every now and again this unexplainable phenomenon occurred and no one could explain it. Hannah had marked the dates of these unregulated bridge swings in her journal over the past two years but couldn’t identify a pattern. They seemed to be completely random and she was intrigued by such events. Her thoughts were interrupted as the bridge clunked into place. Now pieced together, the bridge became purposeful and grand, framing the granite column which became a gathering point.
Within moments, the bridge was transformed into a bustling street and Hannah was swept up in the moving crowds. Ever since she could remember, her favourite thing to do was to watch every one gathered around the granite column. She scrambled up on the bridge’s outer wall to get a better view. There, glancing up was where she saw it. Glinting between a crack in the granite column was a startled eye. It blinked, she gasped, the warning bell sounded. The bridge started to separate and panic broke out.
Good Catch Bridge
Dear Giulia,
how are you? I’ve recived your letter from London last week, but I found the calm to answer you only now. I’m often going to the Good Catch Bridge and even now I’m here writing you, but only today I’m alone, except someone in some sets lower. They put new fishing rods, despite everything , they were already provided. They’re nice and more modern; I don’t know if they’re working better than the others: my skills in fishing are not improved. Even if the Good Catch is here since 2 years, fishing is just an excuse to come here and have a little peace and quiet. It’s the only talking point we’re all pretending. I’m good here, I top being “the Pietro’s wife”, or “the librarian” and I start to fish like Tommaso and Giacomo, talking about the fishes that who knows if will catch.
Our brother never comes here, he prefers football and I’m actually fine with not being “the sister of someone”. I think he understood this place ‘cause he also stop to ask me how many fishes I took.
I see my house from afar and other little points, immersed in the green of the pines and I become more relative about the life we’re living: I seem to see problems smaller and easier. Last week they signed for the demolition of the Good Catch, and also the guys agreed since the road to Caprera have been opened, they were the only ones to get to the top and go to the other side. I’ sure I will happy to see Aunt Luisa more often but I don’t know if the New Low Bridge will be so quiet. I have to go now, it’s getting dark.
Come back soon, I miss you.
Your sister Anna
João Rodrigues
Up and Down
I’d like to tell you of my journey to the island of Caprera. The story of my walk to freedom. I was a man from the city and I spent half of my life worried about numbers, chasing numbers, money numbers, time numbers, phone, buses, trains, places, numbers everywhere running really fast and ruling all my ways. And that happens because I blindly chase some kind of richness that I don’t understand anymore.
Now, I have a treasure, limitless, invaluable and if one day I counted money, here I don’t even count the days, they pass by me and I just smile. There’s no rush to die, no rush to grow old. I wake up with this soft light of the dawn, I get up with the sound of the birds singing, with the wind from the sea which I believe will one day bring me back the life that has passed by me for so long. At first glance I was afraid about my choice to live in a place so isolated, it seemed so empty, so strange to my old life, but ever since I crossed the sea with my ship, I have never felt so alive.
I found an advanced community of shepherds here, they are connected worldwide with other shepherds and we live in very comfortable shelters which do not disturb the beauty of natural processes; we all live in balance in the same space. Wall have our roles, our leads.
Up and Down
I’d like to tell you of my journey to the island of Caprera. The story of my walk to freedom. I was a man from the city and I spent half of my life worried about numbers, chasing numbers, money numbers, time numbers, phone, buses, trains, places, numbers everywhere running really fast and ruling all my ways. And that happens because I blindly chase some kind of richness that I don’t understand anymore.
Now, I have a treasure, limitless, invaluable and if one day I counted money, here I don’t even count the days, they pass by me and I just smile. There’s no rush to die, no rush to grow old. I wake up with this soft light of the dawn, I get up with the sound of the birds singing, with the wind from the sea which I believe will one day bring me back the life that has passed by me for so long. At first glance I was afraid about my choice to live in a place so isolated, it seemed so empty, so strange to my old life, but ever since I crossed the sea with my ship, I have never felt so alive.
I found an advanced community of shepherds here, they are connected worldwide with other shepherds and we live in very comfortable shelters which do not disturb the beauty of natural processes; we all live in balance in the same space. Wall have our roles, our leads.
It gets really windy sometimes but I like to hear the wind twisting land and sand, shaking the branches of the trees, whistling in the rocks, somehow it gives me whispers of hope and peace. We go up, we go down, but we never tire of walking on the hills, of seeing the sunrise on one side and swimming with the sunset on the other.
Every month someone new arrives and must be taught, and sometimes they move on to create or integrate other communities around the world. We do not mess with the island, we embody it and as an open community. We invite you to climb the bridge too and come to join us on this little side of the sea.
Within moments, the bridge was transformed into a bustling street and Hannah was swept up in the moving crowds. Ever since she could remember, her favourite thing to do was to watch every one gathered around the granite column. She scrambled up on the bridge’s outer wall to get a better view. There, glancing up was where she saw it. Glinting between a crack in the granite column was a startled eye. It blinked, she gasped, the warning bell sounded. The bridge started to separate and panic broke out.
Every month someone new arrives and must be taught, and sometimes they move on to create or integrate other communities around the world. We do not mess with the island, we embody it and as an open community. We invite you to climb the bridge too and come to join us on this little side of the sea.
Within moments, the bridge was transformed into a bustling street and Hannah was swept up in the moving crowds. Ever since she could remember, her favourite thing to do was to watch every one gathered around the granite column. She scrambled up on the bridge’s outer wall to get a better view. There, glancing up was where she saw it. Glinting between a crack in the granite column was a startled eye. It blinked, she gasped, the warning bell sounded. The bridge started to separate and panic broke out.
Madli Kaljuste
The Fountain
There are two things people can watch for hours.
Running water and a working man.
Here you find at least one of them.
The view from the window is quite spectacular.
Not usual for these sort of events.
Instead of hiding the gutters and the mess of living, it is turned into an odd spectacle.
Strangely this exposure adds mystery.
A kind of reveresed fountain hungrily eats up the silent sea like a cold soup.
Bits and pieces of plastic, paper and cans dissappear into the machinery to be sorted and turned into desired goods once again.
Water, clensed and washed, spits out in the distance covering the cliffs of Carpera.
The Fountain
There are two things people can watch for hours.
Running water and a working man.
Here you find at least one of them.
The view from the window is quite spectacular.
Not usual for these sort of events.
Instead of hiding the gutters and the mess of living, it is turned into an odd spectacle.
Strangely this exposure adds mystery.
A kind of reveresed fountain hungrily eats up the silent sea like a cold soup.
Bits and pieces of plastic, paper and cans dissappear into the machinery to be sorted and turned into desired goods once again.
Water, clensed and washed, spits out in the distance covering the cliffs of Carpera.
Angelika Hinterbrandner
Disconnected—Connectivity
2030: La Maddalena is a long-lost island. The economy broke away after the last financial crisis as tourists couldn’t afford travel and accommodation any longer. A few families are still living on the islands, cultivating food for a calm self-sufficient life. A lost disconnected generation of teenagers is rebelling in paradise: Throwing waste into the sea, destroying heritage, or simply killing time as well as themselves with drugs to express their passive aggressive relationship with their origins.
At the same time digital nomadism of the rich and privileged is on the rise. Preparing for the next crisis tech-hipsters are searching for save havens to enjoy a sustainable-vegan-instagramable lifestyle as much as the money they made during the tech-boom. The idea of untouched purity of nature that they only know in filtered edits through their screens makes them explore the world.
__
Carina, 17, living in La Maddalena escaped to Punta Rossa to find the only place with internet-connection to the world. She enters the bridge appearing right in front of her trying to escape to other places.
Marc, 35, digital nomad: Seeking peace, untouched nature, the projection of perfection. When discovering la Maddalena in his feed, he declared it the place to go. On the way to the island he realizes that he is only able to connect to the local network.
M: The world out there is only distracting.
Too many notifications the whole day.
That’s why I am here.
I’ll find myself a quiet space to contemplate and think about life.
C: The Archipelago is disconnected.
I am trying to escape from here.
Can you help me leave to the real world?
I heard there are so many chances on the other side
—but I can’t leave.
M: Well, that can’t be.
Is this real?
There must be connection.
Disconnected—Connectivity
2030: La Maddalena is a long-lost island. The economy broke away after the last financial crisis as tourists couldn’t afford travel and accommodation any longer. A few families are still living on the islands, cultivating food for a calm self-sufficient life. A lost disconnected generation of teenagers is rebelling in paradise: Throwing waste into the sea, destroying heritage, or simply killing time as well as themselves with drugs to express their passive aggressive relationship with their origins.
At the same time digital nomadism of the rich and privileged is on the rise. Preparing for the next crisis tech-hipsters are searching for save havens to enjoy a sustainable-vegan-instagramable lifestyle as much as the money they made during the tech-boom. The idea of untouched purity of nature that they only know in filtered edits through their screens makes them explore the world.
__
Carina, 17, living in La Maddalena escaped to Punta Rossa to find the only place with internet-connection to the world. She enters the bridge appearing right in front of her trying to escape to other places.
Marc, 35, digital nomad: Seeking peace, untouched nature, the projection of perfection. When discovering la Maddalena in his feed, he declared it the place to go. On the way to the island he realizes that he is only able to connect to the local network.
M: The world out there is only distracting.
Too many notifications the whole day.
That’s why I am here.
I’ll find myself a quiet space to contemplate and think about life.
C: The Archipelago is disconnected.
I am trying to escape from here.
Can you help me leave to the real world?
I heard there are so many chances on the other side
—but I can’t leave.
M: Well, that can’t be.
Is this real?
There must be connection.
M: Hi, I just arrived here and don’t know where to go.
Internet doesn’t seem to work.
I can’t go any further without connection.
Could you help me to re-connect?
C: What the hell are you doing here?
Why don’t you stay where you are coming from.
There is no connection available here.
__
Collision:
Reality: proof of what is real through confrontation.
The internet is connecting the world, projecting dreams and hopes
What are they connecting with? > with eachother
How do they connect? > virtual or digital?
What can they learn from each other?
Does the learning lead to anything?
Can they touch the ground?
Is the bridge something physical?
Can they settle? > What happens when they settle?
They both want to escape reality > both realities they imagine are not existing
physical vs. virtual
/
> He can’t reach the island because he realizes it is a projection of his mind not reality
> She can’t reach the better place as this is an equal reflection
Internet doesn’t seem to work.
I can’t go any further without connection.
Could you help me to re-connect?
C: What the hell are you doing here?
Why don’t you stay where you are coming from.
There is no connection available here.
__
Collision:
Reality: proof of what is real through confrontation.
The internet is connecting the world, projecting dreams and hopes
What are they connecting with? > with eachother
How do they connect? > virtual or digital?
What can they learn from each other?
Does the learning lead to anything?
Can they touch the ground?
Is the bridge something physical?
Can they settle? > What happens when they settle?
They both want to escape reality > both realities they imagine are not existing
physical vs. virtual
/
> He can’t reach the island because he realizes it is a projection of his mind not reality
> She can’t reach the better place as this is an equal reflection
Oskar Dagerskog
The Last Parade
Wroom..Wroom.. skree..skree
Klonk..Klonk.. prrr..prrr
Zipp..Zapp.. drring..drring
Swee..Swee..kwee..kwee
SPONK..SPONK..BRAKK..BRAKK
Splatt..Splatt..zlapp..zlapp
Foot follows foot
Cavalry follows cavalry
Wheel follows wheel
Divison follows divison
Round after round
Year after year
The Last Parade
Wroom..Wroom.. skree..skree
Klonk..Klonk.. prrr..prrr
Zipp..Zapp.. drring..drring
Swee..Swee..kwee..kwee
SPONK..SPONK..BRAKK..BRAKK
Splatt..Splatt..zlapp..zlapp
Foot follows foot
Cavalry follows cavalry
Wheel follows wheel
Divison follows divison
Round after round
Year after year
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