With an artistic legacy dating back thousands of years, it’s no wonder that even amidst a pandemic and the longest lockdown in Europe, Italian creators continue to do what they do best: share their country’s aesthetic past and shape its future, even without support.
The halls of Italy’s most famous repositories of culture and antiquity echo emptily these days, and have for months. Botticelli’s Venus emerges naked from the sea in complete privacy. The Last Supper proceeds with no more than just the original 13 dinner guests. Despite the extreme circumstances keeping doors closed across the country, however, art has not stopped in Italy. On the contrary: it is increasingly driven by the work of self-funded creatives and freelancers, now left to their own devices as clients and institutional funding dry up.
It’s not the first time creatives have gone it alone; the country’s cultural institutions have been battered by budget cuts since the last recession. For a while, private money from luxury goods brands filled the gap: labels such as Tod’s, Diesel, and Fendi all pledged millions of euros towards the restoration of Italy’s most beloved monuments. But even they have largely remained silent in the wake of coronavirus disruptions. Fondazione Prada, the private foundation sponsored by Prada S.p.A. that has financed a number of important exhibitions and artists, is among the few institutions to continue to do so during lockdown by commissioning work from creators and designers tackling the very issues highlighted by the pandemic. But they can’t be expected to prop up the country’s creative industry singlehandedly.
Despite the enormous challenges facing them, freelancers, independent artisans and professionals carry on pouring contemporary, avant-garde projects into the centuries-old culture of beauty and craftsmanship that shaped them, and sharing that culture with anyone with an Internet connection who’s willing to look. And in a country that’s accustomed to displaying its masterpieces in storied physical spaces, those who wish to exhibit during social isolation must turn to the digital environment to do so – a big step for more traditional artisans, and yet another example of how COVID-19 is reshaping the landscape of Italian expression.
Rather than a buzzy effort to showcase how productive they’ve been during lockdown (only now beginning to ease up), the work emerging from life in quarantine feels a lot more like an impulse – a habit straight from their art-drenched DNA.
What makes the Bel Paese different?
The very idea of Italy has long been synonymous with the flourishing of artistic expression, beauty and creative aplomb. From the exquisite celestial hues of the Sistine Chapel to the luminous mosaics of Venice’s Basilica di San Marco, Italy boasts a much-exalted legacy of aesthetic excellence. It contains 53 UNESCO World Heritage sites, more than any other country in the world, and Italians are fiercely proud of their contributions to the world’s artistic patrimony.
Rewind several centuries, and the Roman Empire ruled supreme as the center of western civilization and a treasure house for the ages, amassing the classical artifacts whose reappraisal fueled the Renaissance. It’s no coincidence that Italy, of all regions, stood at the forefront of this shift that irrevocably altered Europe. First, wealth and intellect converged – the works of masters like Michelangelo, Donatello and Brunelleschi were entirely supported by Cosimo de’ Medici, head of the wealthy Medici banking family and de facto ruler of Florence. Secondly, Italians were surrounded by the material remains of antiquity’s finest creations. In many places across Italy today, they still are. You could say that inspiration is unavoidable.
But where are the wealthy patrons to support the specialized, intricate, lengthy and expensive creative processes required to make good art today? Creative activity was a major part of the Renaissance for the simple reason that powerful patrons funded it; without this financial backing, most of the art from this period simply wouldn’t exist. And while many things have changed in Italy since the fifteenth century, art’s need for monetary support remains.
Creatives rise to the challenge
The past two decades in Italy have borne witness to the well-documented rise of a “creative class” that has a multiplier effect on other industries, such as travel and tourism, and makes a significant contribution to the country’s economy. According to the Italian National Institute of Statistics, about a quarter of all working Italians are self-employed entrepreneurs and freelancers — roughly 5.5 million — who have been hit particularly hard by quarantine measures and the frozen budgets of the companies who typically collaborate with them.
Videographer and director Tommaso Ottomano (whose productions include work for Prada, Gucci, Giorgio Armani, Missoni and Vogue) has spent life in lockdown editing and producing a video for glam rock musician Lucio Corsi. His roster of elite clients from the fashion industry have paused all projects as they re-evaluate both their budget and their messaging. “All the fashion clients are in trouble right now. They don’t know what to do, what [content] to publish, when, how, or why,” he says.
In lieu of commercial campaigns, Tommaso has found inspiration in capturing the eerie emptiness of the landscape for a personal project. “My friend and I spent a week shooting a video in the streets of Milan. It’s not about coronavirus, though of course it mentions it, but it’s really marked by the aesthetic of the empty city and how, paradoxically, it’s more beautiful that way, without traffic, without people. We shot some beautiful scenes that describe our reality in an unedited way. Scenes that we hope to never see again quite like this.” He plans to release the video in June.
For those like Tommaso whose businesses are built on brand partnerships, the job title “content creator” has assumed a new urgency. Model and beauty influencer Erica Vitulano quickly found that all of her collaborations were frozen. A graduate of the Condé Nast Social Academy in Milan, she relies heavily on projects with brands, photographers and magazines to generate income and content to grow her audience. When this didn’t materialize, she developed her own videos and tutorials. “It hasn’t been easy,” she says, “but once I evaluated the situation, I decided to create beauty content for my own channel. It represents a way to defuse this reality and move forward by offering something more personal. From an economic point of view though, I need things to get better soon.”
Art journalist Clelia Patella’s Walk in Art videos showcase of-the-moment exhibitions and installations in three minutes or less. Her most recent video is especially fortuitous: it features Tomás Saraceno’s Aria, which opened in Florence’s Palazzo Strozzi in February only to be almost immediately suspended due to the coronavirus lockdown.
Gadget-savvy content makers are seizing the opportunity to capture highly-visited cities as they’re otherwise impossible to experience. Dirty Seagulls FPV, a freestyle racing drone collective (in case you didn’t know that was a thing), pilots drones through the vacant streets of Rome, angling so tightly that the trickle of fountains can be heard over the rushing air. Views of the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, the Altar of the Fatherland and Piazza Navona are well worth the motion sickness. (Find a compilation video here.)
Meanwhile, 160 miles north, Studio Riprese Firenze’s video “To humans, from Florence” gives voice to the city through the eyes of its statues as they lament the emptiness before them. “Florence continues to live even without us, with its history traced in the monuments,” reads the description, “but it awaits us.”
For photographer Alberto Papagni, lockdown hasn’t halted his art, and has even afforded him the opportunity to create especially evocative urban pieces. “A shot can express a myriad of emotions in an instant,” Alberto says of his work, and it rings true: his cinematic portraits of deserted piazzas across the country are as beautiful as they are saddening.
The country’s photogenically empty streets and squares represent the financial struggles looming even for formally established businesses. Boutique “Made in Italy” brands, which typically rely on their national identity and iconic heritage as a vital selling point, are seeking creative ways to engage customers remotely while highlighting their Italian DNA. Knitwear brand Paolo Pecora Milano has managed to assert its relevance with followers by commissioning weekly #StayInspired playlists curated by Italian actors, DJs and music producers. Swimwear label SoloBlu, likewise, reinforces its Italian pedigree with a selection of Italy’s most beloved oldies and summer hits from famed local artists like Lucio Battisti and Gianna Nannini.
On the surface, a playlist may appear a small gesture – it’s no hand-painted fresco. But with factories closed, product inventories limited and in-store experiences altogether impossible, brands like these are doing what they can to draw focus back to the celebrated tradition, past and present, of Italian creativity and craftsmanship.
Will the institutional response be enough?
Through its platform La cultura non si ferma (Culture never stops), the Italian Ministry of Culture has facilitated virtual initiatives such as tours and performances to ensure that galleries and museums remain. There’s even been discussion of starting a so-called “Netflix of Italian culture” in light of the explosion of digital content since February.
The ministry’s mission is to provide content that’s viewable from home “so people don’t have to forego contact with art and culture in these difficult circumstances,” which sounds a little different from the messaging we’re used to hearing; while much of the world is urged not to hoard toilet paper or get into fistfights over disinfectant, the Italians are furrowing their brows over the best way to deliver art and culture to the masses. Whatever their current limitations, it’s not that the institutions don’t care. But the real work still lies with creatives – the ones who aren’t getting paid.
The Confindustria Italian Culture (ICC), which functions largely as the national chamber of commerce for cultural and other industries, has called on the government to temporarily suspend the creative industries’ payment of taxes and social security contributions. It would be a small but essential step towards bolstering the attempts of the creative class to follow in the footsteps of the some of the greatest makers in history.
The light at the end of the tunnel
There’s no shortage of Italian art, beauty and creative expression to keep the rest of the world company during quarantine. Although Italy has begun gradually easing its lockdown protocols, those in creative industries – particularly independents and freelancers – will need to continue finding innovative responses to their evolving realities.
While much of the world is urged not to hoard toilet paper or get into fistfights over disinfectant, the Italians are furrowing their brows over the best way to deliver art and culture to the masses.
But the scope of the oeuvre is yet to be seen. Through the ages, each phase of the country’s rich artistic culture was born in response to the circumstances surrounding the artist, as a translation of experiences within a specific historical context. If the Renaissance was a revivalist reaction to the Middle Ages, if Futurism was a response to the chaos of war and hope in the Machine Age, then surely the effects of COVID-19 are still to be fully interpreted by the creatives and artists who document society’s journey through trial and suggest a way forward.
Naturally, Umberto Eco put it best: “What does culture want? To make infinity comprehensible.” And comprehending the vastness of existence through art…costs money.
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Header photo featuring Erica Vitulano shot by Elisa Paci.
