journal – Page 2 – Mediterranei Invisibili

Category: journal

200920_Mediterranei-Invisibili_©Stefano-Anzini_IMG_6338

THE SOUTH LIES AT THE EDGE OF EUROPE: IT STRUGGLES MORE TO MAKE ITS VOICE HEARD BUT, IN THE PAST, IT MADE A GREAT CONTRIBUTION TO THE COUNTRY’S HISTORY. AND NOW IT IS PREPARING TO START AGAIN FROM AGRI-CULTURE with Pietro Taccone

Pietro Taccone and his family could be the protagonists of a film: a melting pot of cultures, where the cool Anglo-Saxon spirit intertwines with passionate Neapolitan roots, followed by a long period in Milan and then a return to Southern Italy – bringing with them the energy, expertise, and discipline needed to transform Calabria into a truly European region.

Pietro begins speaking about the South, recalling its glorious past: not as a learned historical synopsis, but as a premise for the potential re-emergence of the territory.

200920_Mediterranei-Invisibili_©Stefano-Anzini_IMG_6291 From left to right: Giorgio Tartaro, Pietro Taccone, and Alfonso Femia during Invisible Mediterranean(s) – Journey across the Strait III, talk session on 20 September 2020. Photo by Stefano Anzini.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, Naples and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies were leading European powers, with remarkably progressive governments. In 1839, the first double-track railway link in Italy was built to connect Naples and Portici. Shipyards, metalworking, texitle, food-processing, and sulfur-extraction industries, along with agriculture, wow highly developed and firmly established. with commercial relations extending throughout Europe. Then, in the post-unification period, a dark era followed, and people began speaking of the “Southern Question”. The South became simpy “the South”. Our farm is what remains of an estate that originated earlier, in the 1700s, and that generated employment and prosperity throughout Calabria. It was a 40,000-hectares in the Plain of Gioia Tauro where olive cultivation is predominant. We have centuries-old olive trees dating back to the late 18th century. We work continuously to innovate the production process and refine a product with outstanding qualities. We have preserved most of the ancient olive trees, while mechanizing fruit harvesting as early as the 1980s through the use of shaker machines. Before this innovation, olives from centuries-old trees were used to produce “lampante” oil, so called because throughout the 19th century and the early 20th century it was used for lighting and exported to Russia. Other oil was exported to France and England for soap production, including the famous Marseille soap. The centuries-old trees, reaching heights of up to 20 meters, did not allow for the early harvesting of the olives. Harvesting occurred only after natural falling once the fruit had fully ripened, resulting in a degraded product with excessively high acidity levels. The olives could not be used to produce extra virgin oil. To achieve a leap in quality, it was enough to anticipate the harvest. Managing these trees is complex because of their size, but shaker machines have enabled us to harvest olives before full ripening, obtaining fruit with excellent organoleptic characteristics in both aroma and flavor. In this way, we entered a high-end niche market. Calabria was actually the first region to import shakers from California, whose mechanical action is carefully calibrated so as not to damage the trees. However, harvesting olives from centuries-old trees still requires a large workforce because of the “sesto ducale” layout – that is, the wide spacing between one tree and another. For this reason, we decided to plant part of the land with younger, smaller trees spaced six meters apart. This allows for more efficient management of cultivation, both from a phytosanitary perspective and in terms of harvesting, using umbrella shakers that require only two workers per tree instead of the six to eight needed for the ancient trees. Replacing old trees is costly and, rightly so, subject to landscape preservation regulations. Managing these olive groves is by no means simple, and many olive growers rely on state subsidies whenever they are available. On our farm, 50% of the old olive groves have been preserved, with careful attention paid to maintaining the same native varieties – Ottobratica and Sinopolese – in order to preserve the unique character of the territory. Our olive oil is distributed throughout Europe and the United States. Olive growing as once a flourishing and prosperous economy, and today it seeks to regain the splendor of the past and assume a significant role within an international context. Supporting agricultural development is part of a broader process of economic transformation in our region, one that can truly stand alongside the country’s industry, tertiary sector, and services, making it competitive and a meaningful player within the European and globalized landscape. Our company employs 50 people engaged in overseeing the entire supply chain, from cultivation to bottling. We live in a small village established in the 1700s in the Plain of Gioia Tauro: the village of Cannavá, which has been redeveloped with a focus on hospitality, tourism, and cultural activities. The heart of the village is Masseria Santa Teresa dating back to the 1830s and composed of a series of buildings arranged around a quadrangular square. It is a system centered on agriculture as its core identity, one that also sustains itself through the added functions of hospitality and cultural engagement.

Olive harvest, October 2020, at the Acton farm in Leporano. Photo by Salvatore Greco.

Is the revival of Calabria through the land and olive trees too romantic a vision? Perhaps things are a little more complex in Calabria, but mano agricultural businesses are adapting to contemporary challenges, embracing technology and emerging as important realities in terms of employment and economic impact. There is remarkable dynamism: many have successfully renewed themselves by following European directives, investing in biogas systems for livestock farming and renewable energy through the use of pruning residues that can be transformed into wood chips. All of Calabria is engaged in this transformation: in the Lamezia area through citrus cultivation; in the Crotone area through wine production, which is gaining significant recognition nationally and internationally; and in the Reggio Calabria area through bergamot production for the French and international perfume industry. Along the Reggio Calabria coast, Calabrian mangoes are also cultivated. This demonstrates that starting again from the land and from agri-culture is neither merely an idea or simpley a project, but a reality that already exists.

Do infrastructure gaps, including those within the region itself, penalize you? Are they a determining factor in development prospects? The issue of missing roads must be evaluated and weighed in the proper terms. Calabria is a mountainous region: Sila, Pollino, and Aspromonte are our mountains, and mountains are difficult to manage everywhere. What would be extremely important is the rigorous maintenance of the existing neytwrk, wihich currently suffers from major deficiencies in this regard. We are actually in a better position than some other territories. The Salerno-Reggio Calabria motorway functions, even though the thirty-year reconstruction process caused enormous inconvenience and disruption. The Tyrrhenian coast is well connected to the rest of the country, and there are also two major high ways leaiding to the Ionian coast. The need to develop infrastructure must take into account the geomorphological structure of the territory. One cannot simply exploit the issue of missing roads without carefully assessing the benefits in relation to the investments required and the environmental and territorial risks involved. Our disadvantage lies in being geographically “at the end” of the peninsula: regardless of the means of transport, we still have to travel 1,200 kilometers to reach Italy’s gateways to Europe, the major distribution centers, and the main logistics hubs. What could have been our greatest strengths has been completely undermined by its function and by the lack of railway connections. The Port of Gioia Tauro is a missed opportunity. To build it, an extraordinary environmental landscape was sacrificed, and yet it provides no real service to its own region. It is an international transshipment port, a closed and highly specialized system. Our natural shortcut to Europe and other countries – the sea – is effectively reserved for another exclusive function.

Is our provocation – placing the South at the center of the process of revitalizing both Italy and Europe as a whole – a realistic prospect? I am convinced that it is possible, by using agriculture as a driver for generating sustainable local economies. Calabria does not possess the territorial or environmental conditions necessary to develop large-scale industrial sectors. Attempts at industrialization have produced only the remains of unfinished factories and abandoned industrial blights. The only industry that truly makes sense to develop is a rural one, capable of creating stable local employment with a strong international outlook. To achieve this, local politics must support these projects by following European directives and making proper use of European funding opportunities. It must also recognize that agricultural planning, by its very nature, does not follow the five-year cycle of political elections, but instead requires a much longer-term vision. Mistimed decisions, a poor understanding of real needs, and a lack of specific expertise have led to misguided choices, effectively leaving agricultural entrepreneurs alone to pursue – and at times even fulfill – the dream of establishing their territory on the world stage.

The opening photo is by Stefano Anzini.

200918_Mediterranei-Invisibili_∏Stefano-Anzini

BETTING ON YOUNG PEOPLE AND CULTURE: IT’S NOT A SLOGAN, BUT THE ONLY OPPORTUNITY TO FREE SICILY FROM PERCEPTUAL DISTORTIONS with Pietro Briguglio

Pietro Briguglio, the mayor of Nizza di Sicilia, speaks about a Sicily that wants to go beyond its borders – both physically and by building bridges between the memory of the past, the “outside” world, and the future.

Pietro Briguglio, Mayor of Nizza di Sicilia during Invisible Mediterranean(s)-Journey across the Strait, 17 September 2020. Photo by Stefano Anzini.

Sicily is not mafia and crime. If that remains, in the background, a persistent perception shaped by an outdated reading of the territory, it is equally true that today the reality is completely different. An example? Savoca is the village of the 17 mummies, one of the most beautiful villages in Italy. It dates back to 1134, but it became famous in 1972 because Francis Ford Coppola, the director of The Godfather, shot some scenes of the film there.
And this is not the only perceptual distortion weighing on and slowing down the island’s development.
For example, Sicily is not only Taormina, nor is just seasonal seaside tourism.
And history and culture are not found only in Palermo and Noto.

Sicily is a land that goes beyond the distances and physical limits of being an island.
Of course, there are real limitations, but they have become so worn down over time that they have almost lost their intensity and urgency: the lack of internal infrastructure, the exodus of the younger population, the bridge that was never built, and the patchy spread of the digital network.
There are also other, less visible limits, yet equally restrictive: from a “human” perspective, we are not sufficiently equipped in terms of professional skills and capabilities to move with agility through a highly complex bureaucratic landscape – both at the regional and national level and, above all, in accessing and making use of the economic opportunities offered by Europe. Developing projects, reporting results, and meeting deadlines all require an organic and well-structured operational approach in terms of procedures.

How important is tourism for the revival of this part of Sicily?
The strenght of seaside tourism also represents, to some extent, a limitation: we neglect the inland’s landscape and cultural treasures. Even the coastline outside the reference hub of Taormina is an underused heritage asset with enormous potential to make tourism less seasonal. An example closely connected to my own territory is the Nisi Valley, on the Ionian side of Messina, made up of small seaside towns and ancient hilltop villages. The valley has prehistoric origins and developed around one of the most important mountains in the Peloritani Mountains range, Monte Scuderi. The direct contact between sea and mountain makes these places fascinating and intense, and it is from here that the “Ring of the Nisi” was born, including Alì Terme, Alì, Fiumedinisi, and Nizza di Sicilia.
A great work that cannot be enjoyed by the community, locked away in a private room, represents an unjust way of relating art to society. Much of Sicily is an extraordinary work of art that remains undervalued and largely unknown.
The spread of culture – and the tourism that can grow from it – is the true instrument for revitalizing the territory.
Un’affermazione forte e autonoma in A strong and independent affirmation in this direction would generate the interest of central government and accelerate the construction of infrastructure. It could trigger a virtuous cycle capable of breaking down all these barriers.
Culture begins with an intense program of education and training that creates a sense of belonging to the territory, reverses the processe of youth migration, and generates jobs for culture, through culture.
Mental barriers can only be dismantled through culture. For Sicily, this is therefore a fundamental issue. What will redeem our land from distorted perceptions is the commitment of a younger generation encouraged – through education and culture – to believe in and invest in Sicily.

Borders and limitations must be transformed into horizons, aspiring to new models that constantly encourage the search for visions without boundaries.
Sicily can be imagined as a kind of beneficial, energizing, healing IV drip – a slow – release infusion of culture, history, and traditions to be administrated to the whole of Italy.
In Egypt and in other countries that have marked the course of human evolution, excavations continue endlessly, even after the essential has already been revealed.
We, too, have an immense cultural heritage to uncover and share, yet there is little interest in “digging” into our land. Not investigating our history means remaining one step behind.
Returning to the town of Savoca, Francis Ford Coppola’s choice and the success of The Godfather acted as a sounding board for the entire area. Today, the power of the internet spreads awareness of territories, curiosity, and the desire to visit them – and this, too, can work in combination with the development of the island’s internal physical infrastructure.
We are also moving forward on this front. Last September, the Government Commissioner and the CEO of Rete Ferroviaria Italiana, Maurizio Gentile, signed the approval of the final project for the doubling of the railway tracks between Giampilieri and Fiumefreddo di Sicilia, for an investment of €2.3 billion, already fully funded. The ordinance marks another decisive step forward in the realization of the Messina-Catania-Palermo railway axis, coming just days after the conclusion of the service conference held last August. With the approval now granted, the publication of tenders for the two functional sections – Fiumefreddo di Sicilia–Taormina/Letojanni and Taormina/Letojanni–Catania – can proceed in the coming weeks. The project completes the doubling of the railway line between Messina and Catania and includes the construction of 42 kilometers of which will run underground. This will increase the line’s capacity for both passenger and freight traffic and reduce travel times between Messina and Catania by approximately 30 minutes, enabling the development of a metropolitan-style rail service from Catania to Taormina/Letojanni.

Is the Bridge across the Strait of Messina a decisive factor within this framework of development?
The bridge is a primary infrastructure project, connecting Sicily to the mainland, both for the transport of goods and for the movement of people. The benefits would be undeniable, even though, after postponing its construction for nearly a century, the urban complexity of the departure and arrival areas has grown enormously. Today, compensation measures are necessary to address the disruption that the project would inevitably bring.
Beyond the debates, reflections, and the technological, institutional, economic, and environmental issues involved, the only indisputable reality is that building this bridge is both urgent and appropriate: it is not only in the interest of Sicily and Calabria, but of the whole Italy.

The opening photo is by Stefano Anzini.

A SOUTHERN MODEL CAPABLE OF DRIVING THE COUNTRY FORWARD IS BUILT UPON HISTORICAL EXPERIENCE, WITHOUT INDULGING IN NOSTALGIA FOR THE PAST, BY ADAPTING CENTURIES-OLD WISDOM TO THE PRESENT with Serena Bonura

Serena Bonura works and conducts research in the field of ecology and sustainability applied to education and communication. From her perspective, it is not possible to speak of a “South rising again”, because the South is already wonderful. However, quality of life depends on functioning schools and hospitals, not only on landscapes, the sea, and sunshine. In Sicily, there are still many things that need to be improved.

Serena Bonura during the talk of Invisible Mediterranean(s) – Journey Across the Strait III on 18 September 2020. Photo by Stefano Anzini.

Serena lived in Bologna for a period of time, and this experience changed her way of seeing the world (and the South). For her, ecology and sustainability–particularly in relation to food–are both an economic resource and, at the same time, a way to avoid impoverishing and degrading her homeland.

The “new economy” and “circular economy” – emerging outcomes of a more conscious view of the environment–are already quickly turning into slogans. Yet, in reality, work has barely begun in this direction. It is as if anticipating the concept, without having fully experienced it, has already worn it out and made it feel outdated.
For the South, and for Sicily in particular, this is not just an abstract representation: it is one of the viable paths to building an economy in places where, fundamentally, economic structures are still weak. This means making use of the full range of local resources and activities, especially in connection with the agri-food sector.
In Sicily, a new economy can truly be activated starting from tradition. However, Serena emphasizes that speaking of tradition does not mean returning to outdated or obsolete ways of doing things–or worse, ways of thinking.
Awareness of the present, she explains, comes from a layering of positive experiences and mistakes. Nothing should be forgotten; memory is the best key to change. This is why she speaks of “retro-innovation”: taking with is valuable from the past and reinterpreting it through contemporary tools. It is not a concept limited to food and agriculture; it can be applied to every context, everywhere. However, the Sicilian model of retro-innovation is shaped by the specific geographical, cultural, and historical identity of the South in a way that is unique–neither transferable nor directly replicable elsewhere. Just as unique as the South itself.

Circular economy generates contemporary models of consumption, without diminishing or uncritically glorifying the past. It is also an “economy of relationships”, an expression that is almost a contradiction in terms, because it activates a process that evokes forms of exchange rooted in ancient memory. A sort of modern-day “pre-monetary” system.
To explain better, we work in co-production with aggregated consumers from the other areas of Italy, the Gruppi di Acquisto Solidale, who agree to share the production risks inherent in agriculture (especially climate-related variables), paying farmers in advance. In this way, the producer does not “run alone” with the risk of not making it, thanks to the pre-financing provided by consumers.
It is a model that is also spreading to other European countries. For example, some Sicilian consortia have signed agreements of this kind with French consumer groups.
Here, then, still in an embryonic form, is the answer to the provocation of “Invisible Mediterranean(s)”: restarting Italy and Europe from the South.
Another example: in Catania, a startup called Orange Fiber was founded by Adriana Santanocita and Enrica Rena. By recovering citrus waste, they created an exclusive, high-quality textile. Last year, Orange Fiber began a collaboration with the Swedish brand H&M, which chose the Sicilian company to produce part of its Conscious Exclusive 2019 premium collection.
Also from Catania comes another hight-tech startup, Kanèsis, which developed a system to produce the first eco-sustainable plastic. It is an innovative material derived from industrial plant waste, including hemp, designed by young engineering student Giovanni Milazzo and his team. It is a thermoplastic composite with properties similar to conventional petrochemical plastics, but with improved resistance and lightness. Recently, Kanèsis signed an agreement with Lati, an internationally established firm. Here again, we see Sicily projecting itself toward Europe and beyond. France, Sweden…we set no limits.

It is a very rigorous narrative, and it conveys the idea of a “great South”. But to what extent does the less luminous and less enterprising side suppress and hinder the emergence of this “great South”?
The South is beautiful.
The South is intelligent.
The South is enterprising.
But the reality we experience must contend with serious inefficiencies that not only slow down development, but also deteriorate the quality of life: hospitals and schools that do not function – or function poorly– are defining feature of our island. We often take refuge behind the excuse of lacking infrastructure, almost as a mantra, but the problems lie elsewhere.

The issue of infrastructure is one of the most painful and recurring themes in the current debate on the South, even more so in the Strait area. Your position may sound counter-current.
It is true that there is a lack of connections, including important ones– I do not intend to deny the obvious. But this is not a recent discovery; it is a problem that dates back to the post-war period, the 1960s, and even earlier. And it has never truly been resolved, except in small stretches. Much of the territory is at serious hydrogeological risk, and when building large-scale infrastructure – such as a motorway section or a viaduct– any uncertainty or design indeterminacy must be eliminated beforehand. In Sicily, there are many “ruins”: remnants of reckless infrastructural dreams, abandoned due to procurement issues, geological risks, conflicts between responsible authorities, or lack of funding.
The railway doubling project between Giampilieri and Fiumefreddo di Sicilia – currently in the news–would run through an area known to be prone to landslides, and of the planned 42 kilometers, 38 would be in tunnels.
Up to now, train stations have actually served nearby communities; after the works, they will be moved outside urban centers, making it necessary to create additional connection networks and invent new models. In Sicily, the key is proximity, not mega-infrastructure. Not least, organized crime infiltration has historically taken root in large public works. Here again, memory is essential because it reveals mistakes–preferably ones not to be repeated. To better understand the infrastructure issue in the South, we can use a parallel: we continue to talk about illness, whereas we should reverse the perspective and begin to consider health as the model.

200919_Mediterranei-Invisibili_∏Stefano-Anzini__

THE DESIRE FOR CULTURE, NOT JUST SEA AND NOT JUST TOURISM. THE LOCAL POPULATION AS THE KEY TO REVITALIZING THE TERRITORY. EVERYTHING THE SOUTH CAN OFFER with Caterina Limardo

Caterina Limardo is one of the driving forces behind Zabut International Animated Short-film Festival, an international animated short film festival that, over the course of just a few editions, has become an important point of reference for professionals, enthustiasts, and general audiences alike. Caterina speaks about a Sicily where beauty reveals itself through film culture, people’s participation, and the places themselves.

Caterina Limardo during the talk of Invisible Mediterranean(s)-Journey Across the Strait III on 18 September 2020. Photo by Stefano Anzini

The South and beauty: a widely pairing, just like the South and the sea, or the South and food. Therefore, by syllogism, the beauty of Southern Italy could become the driving force behind its revival.
It sounds simple, but labels can be dangerous.
And they are dangerous for the local population. Sea, food, landscape… the charm of this “touristic beauty” certainly does not lose its visual appeal when visitors fade away and the beach season ends, but what disappears is the energy and intensity of the people who truly bring these places to life.
Those of us who live in the South in November just as we do in August often feel trapped in a cul-de-sac: we consume all our possibilities at the entrance of summer, only to find ourselves, season after season, facing the same wall. We turn back and begin again. Even beneath the sun and in front of the magnificent Sicilian sea, one can experience alienation. In the South, the same opportunities for life that exist in Milan or any other Italian city can–and must–emerge.
The opportunities are there; it is a matter of searching for them with care and determination. They are not always immediately visible. And yes…it is harder work.
The Zabut project is a work in progress born from the shared interests and passion of a group of friends. But it is much more than that. It is connected to the desire to be present as individuals and as people deeply tied to their places, with the dual ambition of personal growth and the growth of the territory itself. Because if a place, a town, becomes beautiful for those who live there all year round, it will become even more attractive to tourists. This is kind of a beauty that does not live off scenic landscapes, architecture, or monuments alone, but off personal commitment, culture, and innovation in content.

Zabut was founded in 2016 in the historic center of Savoca, one of “The Most Beautiful Villages in Italy”. In 2019, the festival moved to the municipality of Santa Teresa di Riva, which was held the “Blue Flag” designation since 2017. Above all, Zabut is an event that, during the days of the festival, creates a connection between a place and a community, between people and locations, becoming a space for cultural participation with a fascinating and welcoming atmosphere.
On the Ionian coast, we are constantly searching for new inspiration, and Zabut is the result of our desire to create and take action.
Today, the project is ready for a further leap in quality that would allow it to stand alongside the most important international festivals, although the difficulties caused by the pandemic throughout 2020 have made this path more complicated.
In that unusual August marked by a temporary respite from coronavirus, yet also by an anxious uncertainty about the future, 150 people attended the screenings each evening of the festival. This number cannot compare with attendance in previous years (450 per evening in 2019), but it demonstrates even more convincingly the public’s desire to listen, their curiosity, and their longing for beauty – in our case, through cinema.
The short films – 450 in total – arrived from 62 different countries, a sign that, in an era when distances are shrinking, international reach is already, to some extent, an achieved goal.
We are ambitious about growing further: first throughout neighboring territories, then across Italy, and eventually throughout Europe and the world. It is an ambition we can fulfil, beginning with the willingness of the local population to participate.
The festival is supported by the Municipality of Santa Teresa di Riva, by a group of private sponsors, and is patronized, among others, by the University of Catania, the University of Messina, and the Academy of Fine Arts of Palermo.
Beyond the many challenges we face – one above all being that access to most public funding calls requires advance payment of expenses, in addition to the paralysis caused by the spread of COVID-19 – we still have many ideas.
We would like Zabut to grow while remaining deeply connected to Sicily and without losing its identity, and we hope to attract institutional interest at a national level.
We are aware that bringing people to Santa Teresa di Riva is more difficult. But then again, bringing people to Taormina was – and still is – difficult as well.
We would like to overcome this “territorial limit” and be able to invite guests and jurors from outside Italy. At present, this limitation is due not only to inadequate infrastructure, but above all to the difficulty of securing greater financial resources.

We would also like to fight, through Zabut, against that stereotypical idea of Sicily still associated with the mafia and organized crime. In some ways, we ourselves still indulge in our past, even in its negative historical memory: in the souvenir shops of Savoca, for example – the village where several scenes from The Godfather were filmed – shops sell gun-shaped mugs as souvenirs…
Sicily has, for the most part, freed itself from that reality, but I do not believe that other Italian regions, including those in the North, are untouched by infiltration from the ‘Ndrangheta and the mafia.
The theme of the mafia has become a kind of folklore that feeds itself through the approval of mass tourism. Yet this carries a negative weight, limiting and undermining trust in these territories. As a result, those who come from elsewhere continue to judge these places through the filter of mafia-related memories and stereotypes.

What is the way to free the South from the South itself?
First of all, by distancing ourselves from stereotypes.
And then by becoming aware that our place of life is slower than that of Nourthern Italy. This is not necessarily a negative thing. But we must not lose ourselves in it or leave things unfinished. Otherwise, we will never truly move beyond the “South”.

The opening photo is by Stefano Anzini.

THE BRIDGE ACROSS THE STRAIT AND THE RECOVERY FUND, ANGELA MERKEL’S PRAISE FOR ITALY AND INVISIBLE MEDITERRANEAN(S): THE CONNECTION EXISTS AND IT IS VISIBLE

Invisible Mediterranean(s) is a permanent project; it does not end with the duration of the Journey. It seeks connections and pathways, nourished by the continuous relationship of interest that the South generates in Italy and across Europe.

Today’s Il Sole 24 Ore published an article about a Mastercard study on tourism trends in G20 countries.
At the opening of the article, journalist Gianni Rusconi referred to a statement by Angela Merkel who, during a video conference with the ministers-president of the German Länder, described Italy as a country that is not at risk and where it its reasonable to travel. Whether the “Merkel effect” will generate a flow of German tourists – provided coexistence with the virus allows it – remains to be seen.

The Mastercard report highlights a rapidly consolidating trend: “…the way people travel has gradually adapted to the new scenario. Spending on fuel, restaurants, or car and bicycle rentals reflects a growing inclination toward ‘on the road’ and local travel, rediscovering national landscape territories.”

“Invisible Mediterranean(s) – Journey Across the Strait” investigates places and tells unexpected stories with the aim of bringing an end to the sort of cultural oblivion surrounding the lands around the meeting point of the two seas, the Ionian and the Tyrrhenian.
It is a project born from a cultural initiative and private economic commitment, supported by several companies, bringing together research on territories, the enhancement of communities, and a courageous awareness of the difficulties resulting from decades of inadequate policies deaf to real needs.

Mastercard’s research has highlighted what Invisible Mediterranean(s) has been telling for the past three years.

The first two journeys were educational explorations in search of the invisible, within landscape and architecture, but also through the stories of the women and men of the Strait: in 2018 through Reggio Calabria, the Grecanic area with Amendolea and Gallicianò, Filanda Cogliandro, and the Costa Viola; in 2019 through Rosarno in Calabria, Scilla, Gerace, and Messina, in Sicily. A narrative built through dialogue, gathering testimonies and fostering discussion, bringing together the visions of authentically Mediterranean people – different in background, age, and role – who share, even through contradiction, the identity of their territory.
The third journey, in this difficult and painful 2020 (from September 17 to 20), marked a turning point.

Journey Across the Strait 2020. Photo by Stefano Anzini

Many things have changed since previous years.
During the summer, the whole of Southern Italy experienced a revival in tourism. After months of mandatory quarantine to contain the spread of the coronavirus and restrinctions on travel to foreign countries, Calabria and Sicily ranked among the five most visited regions in Italy. This was stated by CNA Turismo together with Eurispes. Visitor numbers far exceeded expectations.

The pandemic generated a flow of interest toward the South, and the South revealed the most exposed part of its territory, arousing attention and curiosity even toward its “invisible” aspects.

The protagonists of the third edition of Invisible Mediterranean(s), even more motivated to express–according to their own sensibilities and without conforming to standardized language–the “invisibility” of their places, celebrated through the journey itself and through debates both the territories–in Sicily, the system of the Ionian valleys of the Peloritani Mountains between Capo Scaletta and Capo Sant’Alesso, and in Calabria, from the Tonnara di Palmi to Gioia Tauro–as well as the strong desire for integration within the European context.

Courageous in denouncing the difficulties – from the lack of infrastructure, to the managerial inconsistencies of urban centers, to the territorial-scale dissonances of the Port of Port of Gioia Tauro, and even the unresolved and painful issue of the ‘Ndrangheta, which undermines strategic planning–many mayors took part in the Invisible Mediterranean(s) talks: Piero Briguglio, mayor of Nizza di Sicilia, Nancy Todaro, deputy mayor of Alì Terme, Natale Rao, mayor of Alì, Giovanni De Luca, mayor of Fiumedinisi, Natia Lucia Basile, councillor for culture of Roccalumera, Rosanna Garufi, councillor for culture of Furci Siculo, Sebastiano Gugliotta, mayor of Pagliara, Giuseppe Briguglio, mayor of Mandanici; Armando Neri, deputy mayor of Reggio Calabria, Giuseppe Ranuccio and Wladimiro Maisano, mayor and councillor of the municipality of Palmi, Aldo Alessio, mayor of Gioia Tauro, Giuseppe Idà, mayor of Rosarno, Andrea Tripodi, mayor of San Ferdinando.

Also in agreement in affirming that the post-pandemic “renaissance” could recalibrate the map of the map of the Strait by relaunching economic investment through culture, tourism, and agriculture, were the presidents of the territorial Orders of Architects: Salvatore Vermiglio for Reggio Calabria and Francesco Miceli for Palermo; together with the “ambassadors” of Invisible Mediterranean(s)–architects active in the territory and holding academic positions at the Universities of Reggio Calabria, Ferrara, and University of Naples Federico II. For Sicily: Gaetano Scarcella and Francesco Messina; for Calabria: Salvatore Greco, Giovanni Multari, Michelangelo Pugliese, and Giovanni Aurino.

In particular, the transit area between Calabria and Sicily, shaped by geography and infrastructural limitations, is dense with uncertainties about the directions to be taken – torn between the desire for expansion and the will to protect an extraordinary heritage. This protection is not about restricting widespread knowledge, which is in fact desirable, but about resisting the vulgarization of low-cost, superficial dissemination.

The issue of the construction of the Bridge across the Strait is interwoven with and cuts across all the other reflections. Also today, an in-depth article in Gazzetta del Sud confirms the exclusion of the bridge project from those eligible for funding under the Recovery Fund, which allocates more than 190 billion euros to Southern Italy, to which are added 123 billion euros in European and national funds through 2030.
The journalist Lucio D’Amico analyses both the criteria for the exclusion and the positive employment effects (citing a study by the Bocconi University in Milan) that the construction of the bridge could have generated in the coming years. But above all, he emphasizes how the Bridge is “the infrastructure that more than any other would bring the South and the Strait area back to the center of national and international politics. And while opinions on the Bridge remain controversial, the issue of restoring the Strait to a central geographical and political position within Southern Europe is, instead, a significant opportunity for the whole country. Precisely the theme of the relationship between the Strait and Europe was the provocation of this third edition of Invisible Mediterranean(s).

We asked mayors, architects and Presidents of Professional Orders which paths should be taken to face the future of these extraordinary places, and to relaunch the country starting from the South, interpreting the Strait of Messina in a European key.
The answer was unanimous: it is possible.
The rigorous (and unsparing) analyses, the concreteness of the statements, and the proposed programmes all describe a territory ready to take off – provided that strategies and actions emerge from below, from communities, rather than being “placebo” measures adminstered by the central government.
Showing attention and listening to the demands expressed by local communities, using European funds and allocating dedicated resources, and aligning interventions with territorial vocations: these are the actions that can drive renewal.

One of the moments of discussion from the third edition of Invisible Mediterranean(s). Photo by Stefano Anzini

In multiple voices, there is a call for the need not to impose a pre-established vision –something that has happened in the past, for example in the mid-1970s, when, within the framework of the special project for the development of infrastructure in the province of Reggio Calabria (CIPE Resolution of 1974), the Port of Gioia Tauro was built. The scale and structural characteristics of the work were determined by its original functional purpose, serving the industrial settlements planned by the Government Authority, which envisaged the creation in Calabria of Italy’s Fifth Steel Centre. In the early 1980s, the construction program came to a halt due to the well-known crisis in the steel sector, which in reality had already begun in the previous decade. The port was therefore converted from an industrial port to a multipurpose one, requiring the redefinition of infrastructure programmes, operational structure, and development plans.
As stated by Giovanni Multari, architect and professor at the University of Naples Federico II: “Gioia Tauro is a geometric center, but also a generator of economic and political meanings. A place of missed strategies and lost opportunities. The Port of Gioia Tauro is a giant facing only the sea, turning its back on the land, because it generates little local impact, is self-sufficient in its function and organization, and is more inclined to look toward the Suez Canal or the Strait of Gibraltar than toward its own plain.”
However, as explained by Giuseppe Idà, mayor of Rosarno “it is also the third in Europe and the largest in Italy for transshipment, the transfer of cargo from one ship to another, usually through unloading and reloading in port; it takes place in hub ports where many shipping lines with different origins and destinations intersect. In the area surrounding the port, the flow of goods and culture intersects and integrates.”
Also, Salvatore Greco, architect and council member of the Order of the Architects of Reggio Calabria, brings the issue of the port back to the territorial scale. “The port is a ZES – a Special Economic Zone – which means that goods are produced and processed there, and trade takes place within the port itself. The lack of adequate rail infrastructure and railway terminals hinders the development of its potential economic spin-offs.”

Supporting the territory means fostering its cultural and tourist vocation.
Once again Salvatore Greco helps frame the issue: “(…) I believe that an extreme form of protection is preferable to misguided interventions or redevelopment solutions that turn villages into something resembling an Indian reservation. That would mean losing wealth, not gaining it, making room for a form of consumption that empties places out – a disposable, use-and-throw away approach to territories. We must encourage a gentle form of tourism, not one that is offensive and arrogant.
A landscape transformed into a postcard panorama becomes aligned with an undifferentiated multitude of postcard landscapes. The danger is that the richness of values may be reduced to a merely temporary purchasing power – and then be lost forever.”
Adds Michelangelo Pugliese, architect and professor at the University of Naples Federico II: “Calabria is a landscape that cannot be trivialized through opportunistic interpretations tied to places, villages, coastlines, or mountains. Beginning with the villages themselves, we are not speaking about idyllic situations, as the term might suggest regardless of context. Often these villages are not only abandoned places, but also devastated by mercilessly ugly construction. Violations that have been committed and, unfortunately, layered over time. The complexity of reinterpreting them also involves the issue of dwelling, which contemporary life has profoundly transformed.”
“Not everything can take the traditional tourism paradigm as its model for development, either because there is no spontaneous vocation for it, or because places do not wish to transform themselves in that direction, – explains Gaetano Scarcella, architect on the “Sicilian side.” “For example, the Ring of Nisi is a circular network of paths connecting the four centers of a valley marked by subtle and previously unexplored landscapes, abandoned workshops, agricultural scenery, and scattered monuments. (…) If it makes sense for the revival of a territory to pass also – though not exclusively – through tourism, then it is necessary to find the right and respectful interpretative key, because these are still unexplored places.”

Inaccessibility and the lack of physical infrastructure remain the constant factor – a brake and an obstacle to any hypothesis of development.
Salvatore Vermiglio, president of the Order of the Architects of Reggio Calabria, takes a particularly strong position regarding the Bridge across the Strait of Messina: “A coordinated and parallel project involving both the bridge and the related infrastructure would mean transforming Sicily and Calabria into Europe. Stepping back from the commitment to build the bridge, on the other hand, means remaining still, anchored to that prefabricated vision of Southern Italy, denying its European and global potential. To deny the bridge means to remain invisible. The invisibility of the territory is not a protection of its beauty, but rather damage to its enhancement and dissemination. An effective parallel, in all its harshness and discomfort, is the contrast between expansion and contraction. The risk of contraction is extremely high and, in a global context that tends toward expansion and integration, the danger of permanent exclusion from development processes increases.”

The political attention currently focused on Southern Italy thanks to the Recovery Fund cannot ignore the actual needs of the territory. As Francesco Messina, professor at the University of Ferrara, stated: “There is a total lack of attention from central government toward real needs, and even local politics struggles to understand the priorities.”

Francesco Miceli, president of the Order of Architects of Palermo, broadens the perspective: “Accessibility to the enjoyment of heritage, as well as public spaces, concerns the issue of citizens’ rights. Providing infrastructure to a territory means enabling every individual citizen to access it.
The lack of accessibility represents a denied right to historical and cultural heritage”.

The protection and enhancement of the territories along the Strait cannot be resolved through infrastructure alone: smaller towns and peripheral areas, suspended between a distinct identity and degradation, must become part of a broader project aimed at safeguarding their identity. Explains Miceli: “The connection with the most authentic territory is difficult to preserve for smaller towns: the relationship between urbanity and rurality becomes increasingly complex, to the point of tearing apart and becoming distorted – Palermo is a paradigmatic example of this. The interweaving of agricultural fragments within the outskirts of the consolidated city can become a major resource: these too are invisible places, though invisible in a different way from the hidden invisibility of villages. They are invisibile because people do not wish to look at them, yet they are strategic for rethinking the city – certainly not to transform them into new building developments, but to construct an identity of connection and enhancement. In order not to deny natural sustainability, the intelligence of the place, and to exalt its resilience.”

To the concept of a natural limit impoed by geography is added that of a self-imposed limit, as explained by Messina “Limitation is the truly serious problem of our territorie: the Strait of Messina has a geographical and political specificity, a point of tension between the Italian mainland and the island, a great water square where the distance between the two shores is ‘dialectically’ variable. Invisibility is a limit tied to the difficulty of physical connections between places, a condition that feeds and perpetuates itself through the restraint imposed by a culture of conservation which, through a cognitive distortion, becomes intertwined with certain environmental policies.
Thus, a geographical limit is transformed into a major political limit that discourages development projects and fosters the abandonment of territories surrounded by ever-higher mental walls”.

Territories along the Strait must – by right – find their place within European geography. To achieve this, suggests Giovanni Multari “Before thinking about new projects, we should first conduct a survey of what already exists – abandoned places and unfinished construction sites. We should involve a network of local enterprises, freeing ourselves from a system governed by a politics of favors that has damaged all of Italy, and Southern Italy in particular.”

The project Invisible Mediterranean(s) was initially conceived with the aim of revealing little-known places – scarcely photographed or narrated. It sought to satisfy a desire for knowledge about a unique part of Italy. Over the course of three years, the project grew and evolved, feeding itself through a deeper understanding of the situations and territories involved, and setting increasingly ambitious goals – foremost among them, transforming the Strait area into a new center of energy for the entire Old Continent.

The opening photo is by Mario Ferrara.

UNVEILING THE INVISIBLE IS AN EXERCISE THAT OFTEN DEPENDS ON ACCESS TO PLACES: A RIGHT DENIED IN SOUTHERN ITALY with Francesco Miceli

Francesco Miceli, President of the Order of Architects of Palermo, tells us how architecture, historic villages, the territory, and all enhancement projects clash with the harsh reality of inadequate infrastructure. This is not (just) a problem, but a denied right to access and enjoyment

Let us start from a basic assumption: Southern Italy is a resource, thanks to the quality of its territory and the extraordinary richness of its historical and cultural heritage (all Souther regions have a high density of cultural assets, as recorded by ISTAT according to their size). Unfortunately, despite this immense heritage, no effective policy is being implemented to properly protect and enhance it, confirming Italy as one of the least generous countries in Europe in terms of cultural funding. There is no real strategy for promotion or preservation, nor any effort to build a network capable of connecting these scattered small-scale realities and strengthening their interaction and visibility toward the outside world.
Isolated communities live out their fate either as centers of excellence (in some cases) or, more often, of abandonment and decay. They fail to recognize the affinities shaped by history – from their Greek roots to Arab and Norman influences – because there is no physical relationship, no real connection linking them together.
The cultural heritage of Southern Italy, like that of any other place, cannot simply be reduced to a list of sites: it must be integrated into a broader territorial policy strategy that uses culture also (and not only) as a driver for intelligent tourism. Therefore, beyond actions focused on individual sites, it is necessary to intervene at the territorial level in order to guarantee accessibility to these cultural assets.
Accessibility to cultural heritage, as well as to public spaces, is closely tied to the issue of citizens’ rights. Developing infrastructure across the territory means enabling every individual citizen to access it. The lack of accessibility represents a denial of the right to enjoy historical and cultural heritage.

If we begin from the issue of rights – the right to experience the city, its historical heritage, and access its services – we open up an entire range of further questions, because this broadens the reflection on what cities, smaller towns, and villages are today.
Cities emerged and developed throughout the twentieth century primarily as places of consumption. The logic of the modern city is not centered on the citizen, but rather on a concentration of people often coming from other contexts, sometimes rural ones.
Economic forces concentrate people where opportunities to “consume” are created.
The spread of COVID-19 is prompting a reinterpretation (though not necessarily a transformation) of the city, which can instead become a place of cultural innovation and the exercise of rights.
A process of reconfiguration in this sense – interpreting the city as an element of civilization rather than merely a place of consumption – would mean rewriting and adapting the prevailing models adopted up to now, starting with architecture itself and restoring to it a strategic and political role.

Over the past ten years, three adjectives have progressively been associated with the city, almost with a cathartic function: smart, resilient, and sustainable. The so-called “smart city” is, in reality, a rather aseptic expression aimed at governing the logic of consumption in a different way; “resilient” and “sustainable” complete this semantic triad.
We must ask ourselves whether the purification of the city truly passes through these three meanings, or whether they are simply linguistic expedients used to disguise an identity that has, in fact, remained unchanged. The reflection is broader: the rethinking of the urban center involves a new form of urban physiliogy, particularly in Southern Italy, where environmental sustainability has always compensated for unsustainable building practices, and resilience is part of the South’s very DNA, given its ability to recover from earthquakes, structural decay, and floods over time.
Certainly, today a new awareness is emerging, and digitalization has become a key element in the organization of the city. Within this transformation, architecture must confront its own time, attempting to provide answers.

Unveiling the invisibility of the places in our Mediterranean is one of the possible responses.
Invisible Mediterranean(s) is an important initiative because it tells the story of an unseen South – not an easy one, but one with extraordinary cultural, tourist, and landscape potential.
It is an exploration that starts from the ground up, investigating territorially marginal realities that are nonetheless rich in content and in unusual, almost forgotten models, giving value to what can no longer be found elsewhere.
Sicily, in particular, holds strong potential to translate these models into a working hypothesis.
The three “catartic” words in the South become everyday acts of survival.
An exceptionally powerful testimony of this was given by Pier Paolo Pasolini in “La lunga strada di sabbia”, the diary of a journey in 1959 along the Italian coasts from Ventimiglia to Palmi, where, upon reaching the South, he describes expectation and joy at their highest intensity. The route toward Vallo Lucano leads him to write: “Here beauty directly produces wealth. People live in a kind of quiet ease, letting beauty work for them”.

However, the most authentic bond with the territory is increasingly difficult to maintain for smaller towns: the relationship between urbanity and rurality becomes ever more complex, to the point of being torn apart and distorted. Palermo is a paradigmatic example of this condition. The interweaving of agricultural fragments within the outskirts of the consolidated city can become a major resource. These too are invisible places – but a different kind of invisibility from that which characterizes hidden villages. They are invisible because there is no willingness to look at them, yet they are strategic for rethinking the city: not to be transformed into new building developments, but to build a connective identity and enhance their value. This means not denying environmental sustainability, the intelligence of place, or its resilience, but rather reinforcing and bringing them to light.

In the South of the Mediterranean, identity also exists in the outskirts: this is a fact that must be recognized and emphasized in order to redeem their degradation and underuse, and to extend the right to public and urban space.
Urban space is both a concept and an expanded right – an important design dimension for defining any model. It is not an independent variable, but something that deeply influences the everyday life of the individual.
In his talk on “Architettura e Salute”, delivered to the Consiglio Nazionale degli Architetti, Paesaggisti e Conservatori in July 2018, the psychiatrist Vittorio Andreoli explained with scientific rigor how human behavior is influenced by three factors: biology (the physical being, “flesh”), personality, and environment – both natural/geographical and relational – and how, for this reason, it is necessary that the natural environment and the relational environment be coeherent with one another.

All of this is architecture – architecture in Southern Italy.

THE MEDITERRANEAN OF THE STRAIT IS NOT CELEBRATED THROUGH STRIKING MONUMENTAL OR LANDSCAPE EPISODES; IT IS MADE OF FRAGMENTS AND GLANCES with Gaetano Scarcella

Reflections by Gaetano Scarcella, a Sicilian architect active in Messina and Nizza di Sicilia, addressing infrastructure, tourism, and education in relation to globalization

The Mediterraneans are not all the same. Perspectives and conditions change between the Atlantic Mediterranean and the Mediterranean that washes the Tyrrhenian, Ionian, or Adriatic coasts of Italy. Invisible Mediterranean(s) – Journey Across the Strait III – focuses on the strip of sea and the territories between the extreme edge of Calabria and the welcoming, outstretched cusp of Sicily.
This territory is so distinctive that, to truly understand it, one must experience it slowly – walking, lingering along a path made of diverse yet coherent fragments that together generate the uniqueness and rural character of these places. Small villages, terraces, and spaces – those of the Messina area – do not live through spectacular monumental or scenic events. Here, Time transforms from an abstract theme into a material reality measured by the speed at which places and the relationships between them were built.
Within this vision, the village embodies one of its meanings: a settlement, an extension of a settlement, or a way of living connected to the past through its relationship with the land.
Our villages were born to protect communities from medieval pirate raids, within a territorial system based on agricultural connections and the use of water resources.
Construction methods and systems of relationships were conceived according to the climatic conditions of the periods in which they emerged, when dwelling expressed different meanings and needs because domestic life was not yet the central focus of existence.
This is the primary reason why the destiny of these villages must be understood starting from their present-day relationship with the territory, reconciling it with their historical one. Some villages, because of their landscape, architectural, or historical qualities, now exist in a postcard-like dimension. Yet not everything can adopt the traditional tourism paradigm as its model for development – either because there is no natural vocation for it, or because these places do not wish to transform themselves in that direction. For example, the Ring of Nisi is a circular network of paths connecting the four centers of a valley marked by discreet and unexpected landscapes, abandoned mills, agricultural scenery, and scattered monuments.
It is precisely here that, in recent years, spontaneous movements have emerged with the aim of promoting a quieter, research-oriented form of tourism – one that does not conform to the pre-established mental image shaped by traditional tourism models.
If it makes sense for the revival of a territory – such as the Ionian valleys of the Peloritani Mountains, the first stage of the 2020 journey – to pass also (though not exclusively) through tourism, then it is essential to find the right and respectful interpretative key, because these are still unexplored places.

The meaning attributed to tourism – de-seasonalized and made more ‘cultivated’ – must be calibrated to places not only in functional terms, but also in ways that are coherent with the temperament and vocation of local communities.
If tourism appears to be a spontaneous and straightforward opportunity for revitalizing Southern Italy, development neverthless remains dependent on three fundamental elements of growth: physical infrastructure, educational systems, and digital infrastructure. When speaking of physical infrastructure, we must move beyond the obvious refrain of simply strengthening road and railway connections. Instead, contexts should be carefully analyzed in order to identify solutions that are harmonized with the physical characteristics of each territory. When we speak of physical infrastructure, we are still living in a prehistoric age: in much of Sicily, public transportation is unusable, there is no genuine cycling network, and places of extraordinary charm – such as the Magna Via Francigena – have only been minimally enhanced. Schools, especially in Southern Italy and particularly in this South, must take on the responsibility of transmitting knowledge, awareness, and prime in local places and identities. Finally, digital infrastructure must become a means of projecting Southern Italy outward, connecting it with the rest of the world.

What design strategies can be implemented to reconcile, for example, infrastructural development with the expansion of tourism?
The approach is, first and foremost, cultural: infrastructure is not meant ‘for others’, for tourists, but rather serves the needs of the territory and its communities, because the primary outcome of good physical infrastructure is the improvement of the quality of life of every individual citizen. This is not about emulating or uncritically importing Northern European or Northern Italian models. Instead, it requires analyzing the organization of local economies and working through their underlying values – including in terms of infrastructure – for example by preserving the identity of agricultural systems and highlighting the biodiversity of the landscape.

The landscape is a unique and unrepeatable product, and it is precisely from this awareness that one can work on the territory by adopting the right interpretative approach and intervening in ways that enhance its value.
Southern Italy may appear as a small and marginal fragment when viewed within the broader framework of globalization, yet its renewal could emerge precisely in opposition to the cultural models of the Anglo-Saxon world, which, in 2020, revealed the profound limitation and inability to replace the verb to consume with the verb to live.
The South could become the counterpoint to ruthless globalization, absorbing only its positive aspects and finally emerging as a truly competitive cultural and territorial model.

CONTRADICTIONS AND OBJECTIVES: WHY IS THE SOUTHERN ITALIAN MEDITERRANEAN A POOR REGION, EVEN THOUGH WEALTH DEPARTS OR PASSES THROUGH HERE ON ITS WAY TO EUROPE? with Giuseppe Ida

Reflections by Giuseppe Ida, lawyer and mayor of Rosarno, speaking about transshipment, functional integration, and … the South, not just turism

Imagining that the Mediterranean and the South can contribute to the overall balance of the country and of Southern Europe is not an unrealistic dream.

The Mediterranean is a crossroads of cultures; restoring its centrality is a possible goal – indeed, it is the revival of a model already experiences in the past. Certainly, physical infrastructure is the first element that can help rebuild the centrality of Southern Italy. One example is the Port of Gioia Tauro, the third largest in Europe and the largest in Italy for transshipment – the transfer of cargo from one ship to another, usually through unloading in port and reloading. This takes place in hub ports where many shipping routes with different origins and destinations intersect. In the area surrounding the port, the movement of goods and the exchange of culture intersect and integrate.

One immediately perceives the contradiction between the habitual tendency to think of poverty as the harshest expression of Southern Italy, even though in reality it is precisely from our Mediterranean that wealth departs or passes through on its way to Europe.

The strengthening of physical infrastructure could generate lasting local wealth and place our Mediterranean at the center of the European development process, engaging with and balancing other transshipment hubs, for example. This strengthening should arise through a balanced participation of the public sector and private investors. But when strategy and planning are lacking, investments end up being wasted or undermined. This magnificent South, despite having such a highly efficient port, lacks an adequate railway system to transport goods and likewise lacks a road network capable of supporting the port’s expansion by land transport. Infrastructure and culture, in close connection with institutional strategies, are the fundamental pillars of a process aimed at making the South a leading force in Europe.

Today, the meaning of the South is almost entirely equated with tourism, but can tourism alone make it a leading force in Europe? And what kind of tourism are we talking about? What is the twenty-year vision for the Mediterranean?

For many parts of Southern Italy, tourism still remains an unrealized potential, and this consideration immediately brings us back to the previous issue: the development of what is still an underdeveloped tourism sector also depends on the growth of infrastructure and of the territory’s economy as a whole. It is difficult to imagine achieving results in the short term. Added to this is the fact that, in Calabria, youth unemployment has reached extremely high levels, despite the existence of real employment potential. Responsibility lies equally with regional and central political leadership that has been profoundly inattentive and has failed to allow these untapped opportunities to develop.

Certainly, Calabria can restart from its port system. During the lockdown period, Italian ports recorded a 30% decrease in traffic. Our port of Gioia Tauro, however, recorded a 40% increase, because goods destined for all of Southern Europe depart from here. Beyond this, stepping away from a strictly Calabrian and Italian perspective, it is essential to observe that the European vision of the entire Mediterranean is shaped through its ports.

A topic with limited media appeal and considerable complexity, seaports require cross-disciplinary expertise in logistics, technology, economics, and international relations. Insufficient attention is given to the value of ports, and the surrounding territories fail to connect with the broader economy. This also occurs in other Mediterranean countries – the so-called PIGS (Spain, Italy, Greece, and Portugal) – all countries considered key drivers of Europe’s growth.

In reality, precisely because of the unexpressed yet concrete and quickly activatable potential of these territories, if Europe wanted to become stronger and expand its capacity for inclusion, translating it into development, it should invest more in these regions.

Today, the Mediterranean and Southern Europe are not seen as places of development nor as crossroads of culture, because multiculturalism that is poorly managed and lacking integration turns into poverty. And, by ‘betraying’ its potential for opportunity, it becomes a burden to be carried. A vicious circle is triggered, whose dramatic outcome is the lack of investment in Europe’s periphery, precisely because it is seen as non-productive…a dead weight. In this vision, negativity spreads in concentric waves that affect the villages of which Calabria is so rich – places of history and culture that, in just a few decades, have been transformed into realities of sadness and depopulation.

The regional administration of Calabria has committed itself to a policy of enhancing the villages that preserve our elderly, our customs, that intangible evanescence which is perpetuated through belonging to the territory. However, for now, except in a few exceptional cases, it remains a denied form of intangible heritage. In other contexts, for example, transhumance – the traditional practice of seasonal livestock migration – has been inscribed on the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. The enhancement of villages falls within a strategic tourism plan that centralizes infrastructure, not as alienation, but as a form of valorization of the territory.

IN THIS 2020, THE MEANING OF THINGS HAS CHANGED. THE SOUTH IS OUR BEST OPPORTUNITY

Alfonso Femia opens the third edition of Invisible Mediterranean(s) – Journey across the Strait.

“We can no longer just talk; for politics and architecture, it is time to act.”

It was not supposed to be a four-day event, nor was it meant to take place in September.
The idea was for it to last a full week, in June, during which field research on the territory would be combined with an organic re-examination of the themes and situations we had previously explored separately in the two earlier editions. I am referring to Invisible Mediterranean(s) – Journey Across the Strait III,, which despite the pandemic, we chose to undertake also – or rather especially – in 2020, albeit with reduced time and programming, in order to affirm the need and the will to state that the South can no longer be read, interpreted, and experienced as it has been up to now.

It is precisely 2020 that marks the first demonstration of how strong the South can be, and how this strength can sustain the country as a whole.
I believe that what Invisible Mediterranean(s) has revealed – and will continue to reveal – is important for the country. As we will read in the interviews with representatives of local public administrations, presidents of professional orders, and Sicilian and Calabrian architects, the meaning of words and actions can change when the perspective and gaze are different, and above all when dialogue and confrontation take place on site.
“Infrastructure”, “school”, “village”, “territory” carry different meanings and nuances in places such as Messina compared to places like Siena or elsewhere, and the evidence of this diversity must be strengthened and made more widely known.

There is no romanticism in the gaze of Invisible Mediterranean(s). Each investigation brings to light problems that can no longer be confined within an isolated identity, but must instead be expressed and resolved through connection with other identities. Citiens exist within territories, just as villages do, just as landscapes, coastlines, and mountains do. And Journey across the Strait reveals these connections and the overall system of relationship that binds them together.

Citing Cyprian Broodbank, author of “Il Mediterraneo” (Einaudi, 2015), perhaps the most interesting and brilliant narrative on the subject in the last decade, the characteristics of the Mediterranean are often taken as given facts. Yet the Mediterranean system is made up of closely interconnected centers, whose surprising economic and cultural development has become a model for the entire world. As Broodbank writes: “The Mediterranean of prehistory, a microcosm where everything has come to a standstill, is the perfect model for helping us investigate the globalized world in which we live”.

For example, in the past, highly original civilizations such as Cyprus and Malta, which reached peaks of development, were later reabsorbed into the dominant trend – and this represents, in Broodbank’s view, “the dark side of globalization. A warning message for all of us”.

And is the contemporary Mediterranean a sea of relations?
“Absolutely. If in the past it experienced both moments of confrontation and conflict, the prevailing message that emerges is that of a place of encounter – a place where stereotypes are constantly challenged and dismantled”, says Cyprian Broodbank. We strongly believe that, starting from the second half of 2020, national and European policies must invest in the Southern Mediterranean of Italy. Not as an act of compassion, but as a new center of energy for the entire Old Continent.

Journey across the Strait. Photo by Stefano Anzini.

The exploration Invisible Mediterranean(s), with the third Journey across the Strait, resumes together with Marco Predari (500×100) and Giorgio Tartaro, journalist who followed the previous editions, capturing the invisibility not only of the Mediterraneans, but also of journeys themselves.

GIORGIO TARTARO’S NEUROIMAGING FOR INVISIBLE MEDITERRANEAN(S)

Let’s play a game.
A videogame.
Or rather, a game of images.
To make the invisible Mediterranean visible – even in its plural form – we can imagine the bounce of a ball. A basketball, perhaps. And imagine its sound in an empty gym.
As a bearer – hopefully a healthy one – of internal Invisible Mediterranean(s), as a lake dweller who loves the sea, I imagine this ball bouncing from Greek and Latin epics to the recent image of a Mediterranean rotated ninety degrees: unrecognizable, yet fascinating, like a future highway.
From Phoenician and Roman splendours to the Maritime Republics, from the fragmented history of a richly biodiverse “boot-shaped” country to the troubled process of Italian unification, from times of excessive government to times of no government at all… It is astonishing to think that, apart from devastations and agricultural, artisanal, and industrial revolutions, many – very many – things have fortunately endured.
For instance, the desire for discovery: just as in coastal landscapes, so too in inland, pre-Alpine and mountainous ones, it reveals exemplary moments of recognition. Tradition, the will to recover, effort, commitment, attachment, people, identity.
The encyclopaedists work on these dynamics and return splendours. The fact is that Invisible Mediterranean(s) bounces very high. It elects a “Virgil 4.0” and surgically identifies heterodox contemporary heroes – those who fight against the common opinion of the obvious, who research, design, study, involve, and connect… in short, as my children would say, they really go all in.
No, it is not just cool or picturesque: it is an ethical and luminous way of being in time, this telling of Invisible Mediterranean(s).
Those that some know and hide. Those that many long for and cannot find. Those that, sometimes, by sheer luck, we happen to encounter.
And then it becomes a kind of drama. Because they are like beautiful songs, refrains, synthetic dependencies you can’t quite escape.
Travel is about seeing with new eyes…new sounds, scents, energies, sensations, friends, anecdotes…in short: human beings. Women and men who, outside the uniform of formality, rejoice in telling, collecting, giving.
For me, Invisible Mediterranean(s) are everything that escapes the individual, egoism, the idea of status and social position.
Once Muhammad Al began a speech in public. He apparently didn’t quite know what to say. At some point, he said: “Me, we”.
He then reportedly reworked the “Me, We” pronounced at Harvard in 1965 into “Me, Whee” a joyful “me!”, or rather “I? Hooray!” Perhaps suggested by his team or by circumstance.
Personally, I prefer the first version. Which is also my point of view on the Invisible Mediterranean(s), seen from the kaleidoscopic position of the Inner Mediterraneans: it is, fully and legitimately, an “I,we”. A-Sea Our Sea.

YOU CAN START AGAIN FROM THE SOUTH, BY MARCO PREDARI

Invisible Mediterranean(s) is part of the broader project of Marco Predari, 500×100, which was launched five years ago with the aim of investigating, through dialogue, paths of built and conceptual architecture. It has progressively strengthened and expanded, moving from its first Milan-based experience at the Salone del Mobile to other national contexts, including Venice, Rome, Pisa, and the South.

It represents an important commitment for a company such as Universal Selecta, a leading organization that this year won the Compasso d’Oro in the “Office Furniture and Accessories” category. The company supports the process of growth in Southern regions through the encounter and alignment between politics and architecture, also through the 500×100 platform.

As a company, we share initiatives rich in content in Puglia, Sicily, and Campania, and we believe that the entire South can be transformed from an area of development into a territory for validating effective experiences.

CALABRIA IS IN CONSTANT MOTION, BUT SOMETIMES ITS COURSE IS THE WRONG ONE. LET US ABANDON OLD PROCESS MODELS AND FACE OUR “ARCHAIC FUTURE” with Salvatore Greco

Salvatore Greco, architect and council member of the Order of the Architects of Reggio Calabria, overturns the preconceived narrative of a poor Calabria. Its supposed poverty exists only in the eyes of the those who are unable to see.

“Calabria is wealth”
Salvatore Greco opens with this stement, immediately and decisivly removing one of the many stereotypes surrounding Calabria as a “poor region”. It is a beautiful narrative by Greco one that does not indulge in sentimentality but instead develops a rigorous analysis grounded in observation and the memory of places. An alternating vision – close-up and from a distance – that returns the most honest and passionate portrait of the South.

Calabria is rich in perceptions. Its highly distinctive morphology is itself a form of wealth.
It is a mountainous region, made of mountains that face each other across the seas (the Ionian and the Tyrrhenian), and the physical space between the coasts and the Aspromonte is filled with countless stories.
Eight hundred kilometers of coastline, pastoral culture and cuisine…other narratives and forms of wealth.
Another form of wealth is the Calabrian “unfinished”: the rebar of pillars emerging from slabs, awkward volumes rising up, unfulfilled promises of houses – behind every house there is a social story, and this is wealth. Further wealth is the suspended sense of time, as if it stops and then resumes.
A sad form of wealth, but still wealth, is that of lands abandoned due to economic necessity, hydrogeological instability, earthquakes, and floods.
There is also the wealth of ghost towns, where only the past exists, while present and future are merely illusory intentions: the village of Amendolea and its river, the Cretto di Burri in Gibellina, which tells not what once existed, but its disappearance, the aftermath of the earthquake. The linguistic richness of the Grecanic area (certainly not a “minority” – a word that feels wrong and contradicts its enchantment and fascination).

Again, suspended time. All of this is wealth.

Then we move into the question of how to use and invest this extraordinary value.
A first reflection is that some of these situations have been preserved precisely because they have remained inaccessible.
And while invisibility and inaccessibility can certainly have negative connotations, I believe it is preferable to maintain an extreme form of protection rather than resorting to misguided interventions or restoration approaches that turn villages into something resembling and “Indian reservation”.
That would mean losing wealth rather than gaining it – making room for a form of consumption that empties places out, a throwaway use of territories.
Change, “progress”, even in its most aggressive forms, has reached Calabria filtered through its environmental character and geography – sometimes hostile – and this has caused less damage than in other regions.
We must encourage a delicate form of tourism, one that is not offensive or arrogant.
Landscapes transformed into postcard panoramas end up aligning with an undifferentiated mass of postcard-like landscapes.
The danger is that the richness of values is reduced to a merely transitory purchasing power – and the lost forever.

Can the authenticity of the Calabrian territory be reconciled within a European framework? The provocation we are putting forward with Invisible Mediterranean(s) is that of restarting the country (and Europe as well) from the southern Mediterranean.
These are not separate positions, but shared objectives grounded in respect for identity.
In Calabria there is no strong opposition between countryside and city; our wealth comes from the rural world and can be interpreted and strengthened within a European perspective. We are cities, villages, and communities: we must relaunch the vision of the world within and through communities.
For this reason, I believe a surgical level of attention is needed in how tourism is directed. And we must do this ourselves, as Calabrians.
Many things have been “dropped from above” onto us – for example investments in the steel industry, despite its crisis (with Taranto already struggling as a competitor). The Port of Gioia Tauro later managed to transform itself into a transshipment hub, but generating little local spin-off. The port is in fact a ZES–Special Economic Zone–which means that production and processing take place and exchange happens within the port itself. However, the lack of adequate rail infrastructure and railway terminals hinders the development of a potential local economic ecosystem.

We simply need to return to being what we once where, without anachronistic positions, within a framework of real change.
Calabria is in constant motion, but too often the course it takes is the wrong one.
We can speak a great deal about conservation– about architecture, landscape, and places. But places and landscapes exist through their transformation. To trivialize concepts and apply labels – first “sustainability”, now “resilience” – while pretending not to understand what real mutation means, overlaying inadequate models onto communities, is precisely to take the wrong direction.

In Calabria there are two dawns and two sunsets: the sun rises over the Ionian Sea and over the Tyrrhenian Sea, and the water is made of two seas and of the fiumare. Geography is what shapes history. And it is from here that we must begin.
Politics – which is a fundamental component in triggering architectural processes – must detach itself from models that do not work and embrace the regenerative capacity inherent in territories.
Nik Spatari, an internationally renowned artist and recently deceased, founder of Musaba, the art park in Mammola, spoke of the “archaic future” of Calabria – an idea that is less visionary and more deeply rooted in reality.
“I wish greater fortune to this my, and our, ultramediterranean Calabria”.
With Nik Spatari.

123