Where feet don't touch the ground
The first to 'sing' the magic of the Phlegraean Fields was Virgil. In his Aeneid, he mentions Lake Avernus as the gateway to the underworld.
It is no coincidence that the name Campi Flegrei literally means 'burning fields' from the Greek.
Heat, sulphur, breaths, tremors, smells make one imagine this cauldron full of seething magma that maintains a continuous tension between lucidity and disorientation.
And just as the roots of the fig tree sink into the ancient stone vaults of the Baia baths, growing without touching the ground, so are the feet of the inhabitants of this land.
You step on the volcano, you do not see it because you are distracted. Distracted by the same land that, by its very nature, is generous, fertile, blessed and cursed at the same time.
Its inhabitants live with its severity, with its continuous breathing, with the slow movement of its belly, aware that they are in a restless territory, ready to change its conformation in a short time.
My research seeks to investigate the particularity of this land through a documentary approach combined with a personal narrative aimed at interpreting the feelings of those who rest their feet on this feared and loved caldera.
"burning embers and sparks from the burning mountain fly from its bowels and join in an arc of sky"