ST( )MA by Cristiano Calcagnile

Complex and accessible from and in many directions, it in-cludes its elements and their displacement along the elusive boundaries of a penetrating dance, that you soon give up wanting to define, and entrusts its appeal to complexity and countless perspectives.
(Gianni Mimmo)

I’ve been thinking about it and have come to the firm belief that our spiritual surges need a ‘home’ to be sheltered in, so that they won’t explode inside us.
I’m talking about the bulky ones, difficult to endure and painful, but that in the end we don’t want to part from.
A home to host them, outside of us.
A dwelling place where they may express themselves in full without destroying their bearer, and we could observe their outline, their modifying shapes, colors and consistency.
To do so a delicate and complex coding, transformation and translation procedure is required.
This is the beam STOMA was born under.
An intimate and compelling need for Catharsis.
A story to recall and review from a new perspective.
Not a protagonist anymore, but a demiurge, a storyteller.
Stomata, the plants’ mouths are the metaphor I wanted to observe this passage with.
Ostomy is a surgical procedure, as well.
Thresholds delimiting what is inside and what is outside.
Silent witnesses of irrevocable coding procedures and of dimensional passages.
Of vital transformations, transmutations.
This is what I wanted to talk about, transformation: as a necessity, as intrinsic course of life, as conscious choice and therefore adhesion and acceptance.
ST( )MA, the musical suite is dedicated to my Mother-
The narrative model here doesn’t follow a linear path.
Concave and convex gazes follow one another throughout the whole structure.
Cristiano Calcagnile

YOU’ VE GOT TO DIG IT TO DIG IT, YOU DIG? (T. Monk)

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