Two words about Cittàzioni

As i said at the beginning i’m not interested only in abandoned places, but in anything that skips people’s attention, beside observing with watchful eyes what’s around me. I couldn’t let this occasion slip through my hands, to have a tour around Milan, following the traces of this artistic experience, which’s intent is to make people feel closer to their own city and to art. When i read about it on the newspaper i though right away that it was a great idea, so i couldn’t wait to start this trip in Milan. I’ll start by saying that at the end i was kind of disappointed from the artistic point of view. I’m far from being an expert of art, but i’m also convinced that art is whatever is capable to let feelings free, positive or negative ones (personally i’m more inclined to positive ones). The final impression is that after four hours walking i didn’t really felt i grew up culturally. I’m writing about it, because at the end i’ve walked the whole morning, and it has been like playing to seak for a treasure. So for my thesis is quite interesting. It has been after all a derive, a psychogeographical game. I stopped at first in the subway station of Porta Venezia, where there was the installation of two german artists: lighted up panels made of recycled materials along the giant corridor, usually isolated and abandoned to itself, that guides the users to the subway. It could have been a good idea, but the space was so big that the art work passed almost unseen. I drew more attention, taking pictures of it, than the exhibition itself. I had this same impression visiting the rest of the art works: this to underline the indifference of the people. I reached the next exhibition on foot, at the public park in Palestro. There were mirror panels with writings on them. I’ve walked around the park many times, untill it started raining: i didn’t see anything interesting except a vegetable garden with speakers saying strange things. I thought that this event would give the opportunity to normal people to get closer to art. But it has been a failure from this point of view: all the art works looked like useless things left there by chance. At the registry office there was the “census of living people” by presenting photocopies of faces. At least i managed to take home a souvenir. An old lady asked me what were all those orderly sheets of paper with ordinary faces on. I explained to her very briefly, or at least i thought, what was it all about. I could see her getting older and older, it was so hard for her to understand what i was saying. She told me “eh, i’m old and ignorant, so i don’t understand these things”. I kindly answered her that she had nothing to worry about, that she really didn’t have to feel ignorant for something like this. The exhibition in Piazza Affari was at least interesting to see, it was so big and shiny. But it was absolutely useless: a graph with a background of a wavy sea, to reprent the cityzen’s mood, changing like the Stock exchange. But what has the sea have to do with the city? And second, it wasn’t a real measurement. I would have understood more the measurement of the smog levels: it has been proofed that pollution causes stress and anxiety. I’ll omit the rest of the art works and go right to the most controversial one: the dreams vending machine. One thing is for sure: the name is good enough to draw attention. How can a distributor of dreams be represented? I knew surely enough that it was located in the subway stop of Duomo... ok, but where? This stop is the biggest. I ask a ticket inspector: what is it? I don’t know what you are talking about! I ask another one. Same answer. And again... and again. I ask at the information booth. They have no idea. I ask to common people. I receive only absent glances. I ask the watchers. Nothing at all. I surrender and i start wandering around. I walk, i go up and down stairs, i look in the corners, but of the distributor there is no sign. Might it be this the art work? I imagine, i  hope, i try to reach my dreams, i follow them, i search for them, but i end up with nothing in my hands. A metaphor of life. I surrender again, and i decide to go to another subway station, much smaller, where there should be the same distributor. Infact there it is watching me imposing. It’s a real distributor, but very colourfull, candy colours, of the kind kids like... it makes me think of Barbie dolls. I get closer, a bit afraid of what i’ll find. Instead of selling snacks it has inside small steel objects. A butterfly, small dolls... to get the hold on such dreams all i have to do is spend 10 euro (about 8 us dollars). But is it true? Not that i want to try and put my money inside the machine: they never work! One thing is to loose 50 cents, another is to loose 10 euro! I have no intention to find out the other metaphor of life: you can’t buy your dreams. I take some pictures and the ticket inspectors get curious, and they come closer to see what am i taken pictures of. This thing has been there for over a month and they never noticed it! And in this station it is right at the entrance! I go away, i visit more installations, i feel disappointed again... i repeat this scene a few times, untill i get tired and i decide to go home. I pass by the subway station in Duomo agian, and while i’m walking towards the platform, what do i see? The dream distributor. Another metaphor of life: never stop hoping.