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"He believed in an infinite series of time, in a growing and vertiginous net of diverging, converging and parallel times.
This weave of times moving closer, forking, cutting or ignoring each other comprehends all possibilities."
Borges "The Garden of Forking Paths"
Observing the water.
Allowing the rhythm, the zephyrus possess us without knowing how to read the score.
Only the emotion sweetens the bitterness for being excluded from the intimate and prophetic game beating under the fluid and sumptuous skin of the aristocratic work (cinema, graphics, painting, magic perhaps) by Peter Greenaway.
Riddles, arithmetic want of rhythms, calligraphic presages, geometrical and fatal eroticisms. I remember a troubled Roberto Tassi, bewitched by and mesmerised by the marvellous fitting created by Greenaway for the Venetian palace Fortuny, in 1993 "Watching water".
Tassi, to whom I am ideally dedicating this event, fluctuated dreamily throughout the account of his discovery defining it genial, arcane, impalpable.
Extremely beautiful.
The impregnability of this sibylline art.
Let me repeat , I don't know any secret combination.
I don't know how to read music but the sound of it stirs me and touches me.
I confess that with the same feeling of inadequacy, I love Alice and the Shark Hunter, Bertrand Russell's and Hinton's mathematical nightmares, the orthogonal and relativistic utopia of Reverend Abbot.
I understand some things now and then, while I am always intensely rejoicing for the rhythm, the beauty and the paradox.
Numerological traps, an unconcluded arithmetic liber, the reopening nonsense.
Amazement and emotions save us, but I deeply hope that during the traveller's stay in Parma and by viewing Greenaway, we can draw up an essential map of his exciting womb-like labyrinth;
to play with it better.
Stefano Spagnoli
Councillor for Cultural Activities
Municipality of Parma
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