I just stumbled across this jewel. This is the island of my ancestors. The Greeks called it Pithekoussai home of Typhoeus the volcano maker and father of Cerebus the three headed gatekeeper to the underworld.
These are a strange mix of propaganda, advertisement, and documentary newsreel shaped by a post-war cinematic sensibility. There is something hypnotic and neo-realist in the way these vignettes are shot and cut, but maybe I'm feeling a twinge nostalgic because I can see my father running the streets as a little boy. How strange are memory and the moving image. I was never meant to experience these images. As though the shadowy images of my fathers memory are now mine too ...these scenes of living in another age. The time is out of joint.
Reno! What gems!! "As though the shadowy images of my father's memory are now mine too ..." - you put into words what I have always felt... a strange sense of nostalgia and longing for a memory that was never mine but my own Dad's. What is this strange pull to Ischia they have transfered to us as 2nd generation offspring?
Posted by: claudia | June 29, 2011 at 09:27 AM