As happens every Sunday, I headed to the local church here to spend a little time away from the hustle and bustle of the city, to retreat into my own thoughts. I was pleasantly surprised by an impromptu gallery exhibition taking place in the parish community center. A non-profit organization, the Religiosi Camilliani of Palermo, was fundraising by selling photographs by Marina Scardavi. The exhibition, Bimbi del Mondo (Children of the World), portrayed just that.
As we shuffled from the nave of Maria Ss. Assunta in Mondello-Valdesi to the small gallery space in a back room, the program director stated "you aren't in church anymore, feel free to discuss the work." I smiled, but noticed no one took the words to heart. For once, Sicilians were left speechless. This was most likely due to the nature of the images. To say that the photographs were touching would be understating their value. Scardavi was able to create a relationship between the viewer and the "Bimbi" without being trite. She didn't ridicule the children by focusing solely on their poverty. In fact, most of the images did not even reference this lack of wealth. Images of happiness were juxtaposed next to those of suffering.
I knew I was in a different space, no longer in the sacred confines of the church, but I thought that choosing this location was very appropriate. The emphasis of the photographs lay in their ability to show innocence, happiness, tranquility, and quiet suffering. The audience was a group of people who had been sitting in quiet meditation for the better part of an hour. Upon viewing the images, I was already at a prime place to begin contemplation, undisturbed by the chaos of the outside world. It was thought-provoking and moving.
This was a happening in every sense of the term. The exhibition was pure in its intensions and did not fail to pleasantly surprise.
I knew I was in a different space, no longer in the sacred confines of the church, but I thought that choosing this location was very appropriate. The emphasis of the photographs lay in their ability to show innocence, happiness, tranquility, and quiet suffering. The audience was a group of people who had been sitting in quiet meditation for the better part of an hour. Upon viewing the images, I was already at a prime place to begin contemplation, undisturbed by the chaos of the outside world. It was thought-provoking and moving.
This was a happening in every sense of the term. The exhibition was pure in its intensions and did not fail to pleasantly surprise.
