Guglielmo Trupia

Via Campegna 58, scala I, Interno 8, 80421, Napoli

A happy New Year's Eve, the capitone, the little girl who is a little curious about it and a little scared, the fireworks in the sky of Naples, the kisses of the new year. Suddenly, however, that same house appears different, it is empty and silent, while the director's hands seem to search for traces of something that has perhaps already become a memory. Via Campegna 58 was the author's parents' home, where she grew up, was a daughter and then a mother. Upon his father's death he must empty it, and in lingering in every corner, as if to thoroughly scrutinize the smallest details, it is as if he wanted to take that past life with him, enclosed in the objects, in the useless things that every house accumulates, among the pens , the paintings, the clothes hanging neatly in the wardrobes, the black and white photographs of the young, beautiful, happy parents.

Via Campegna 58, scala I, Interno 8, 80421, Napoli

A happy New Year's Eve, the capitone, the little girl who is a little curious about it and a little scared, the fireworks in the sky of Naples, the kisses of the new year. Suddenly, however, that same house appears different, it is empty and silent, while the director's hands seem to search for traces of something that has perhaps already become a memory. Via Campegna 58 was the author's parents' home, where she grew up, was a daughter and then a mother. Upon his father's death he must empty it, and in lingering in every corner, as if to thoroughly scrutinize the smallest details, it is as if he wanted to take that past life with him, enclosed in the objects, in the useless things that every house accumulates, among the pens , the paintings, the clothes hanging neatly in the wardrobes, the black and white photographs of the young, beautiful, happy parents.

I Fiori Blu

A family with no identity dreams of appropriating the memories of the other ... but who dreams who?

I Fiori Blu

A family with no identity dreams of appropriating the memories of the other ... but who dreams who?

I Fiori Blu

A family with no identity dreams of appropriating the memories of the other ... but who dreams who?