Alessandro Carboni recounts his creative residency in Guilmi, Italy, a small village experiencing depopulation. Through walks and conversations, he explored the landscape, village, and remaining inhabitants. He created a performance where he collected lamps from homes to represent the village's remaining energy and population. After turning off the village lights in a symbolic "blackout", he led a procession through the dark village and lit the collected lamps, representing the community's continued presence despite challenges. The experience reinforced the importance of physical presence and community for resisting depopulation trends affecting many small Italian villages.

1. Overlapping Discrete Boundaries: Guilmi 42° 0'0"N 14° 29'0" E
Alessandro Carboni recounts the journey and the experiences of his last creative residency in Gulmi
(Ch), a small village situated amid the hills of Vasto. The project is a further stage in Overlapping
Discrete Boundaries, which explores and redefines key multidisciplinary areas and territories
around the globe.
RETHINKING HUMAN ENERGIES
Alessandro Carboni – 22.08.2010
A few days before leaving for Guilmi(1), I happened by chance to come across some photos(2)
taken in New York in 1965 during one of the biggest blackouts in American history. The images
were showing faces of frightened, panicking people shrouded in confusion. With the blackout, the
city lost its control and order. In such moments, the crowd smashed store windows and looted many
shops. The photos, supposedly taken in the morning, depicted the empty city with desolated streets
scarred by the traces left by the previous night’s attacks. The beautiful shots had the power for
one to probe deep into the the soul and the humanity of the city. I kept thinking about the
power depicted in those pictures for a long time. Without light, we are lost. But perhaps the
condition of the great blackout, serving more than just teasing our fear and phobia, along with the
conscience, could shed light on many aspects of our human existence.
I came to Guilmi from Sardinia, through Tuscany, Umbria, Marche and Abruzzo. It has been a long
road trip through the Italian landscape: from the blue Sardinian sea flown by the aeroplane to the
beautiful hills between Tuscany and Umbria; from the monasteries in the mountains to the
motorways service stations; from the trucks traffic that never stops during summer, to the brutal
concrete buildings between Pescara and Chieti, all finally concluded by Vasto and the Adriatic Sea
which overlooks the Balkans. We drove to Vasto North, where we left the highway and followed a
provincial road that entered the territory along the banks of the river Sinello. The landscape was
very fragmented. The pink concrete style housing construction and the endless chains of single-
family terrace houses were repeating modules which spread over the landscape. There was no
harmony in this dull suburban syncretism showing yet another case of failure in Italian modern
urban development strategy.
As we moved away from the city, the glades began to get larger and the vegetation was taking over.
The body of colours from nature now had become more visible and clear - The extensive yellow
background framed by wheat fields, that green of the Macchia, and the plowed land scorched by the
sun. But none could compare to the long dark crevices of the earth through the hills. They were
cracks and some thin openings like intertwined cuts, which showed the continuous underground
movements on this region(3).
It was not hard to see these cuts which indistinctly cross the entire landscape, from the fields in the

2. distance to the road we drove along. I immediately thought of the works “Shibboleth” by Doris
Salcedo(4) I had seen at the Tate Modern in London in October 2007: a long crack on the floor that
ran across the Turbine Hall.
I was in Abruzzo, not far from L'Aquila where recently there had been a devastating earthquake.
The ground in constant motion was evidenced by the fact that we could still smell gases at times(5).
During the trip along the provincial road, moving away from the edge of the coast and suburbs,
towns were becoming smaller and uninhabited in a slow and gradual decline: closed shops, empty
houses. The only human presence in the streets was that of old men who watched cars passing by. It
could be perceived that an entire generation had left, leaving a void all around. Despite the extreme
human rarefaction and the continued social and economic decline of these areas, I felt there was a
network of thin filaments similar to those described by Marc Augé. The French anthropologist has
cited demographer Hervé Le Bras in the following expression "... those spaces that, at least in
Europe, where space is tight, weld together the major conurbations. Among the immense urban
agglomerations, the filaments cross from side to side in the farthest suburbs, creating a network that
permanently cancels the urban-rural dichotomy. It is a world-city ...."(6). But it is also true that, like
any big city, every small cluster can be a world, or even a recapitulation, a summary of the world
that rapidly changes with the signs that identify themselves through their ethnic, cultural, religious,
social and economic differences. During the car trip I continuously observed these signs and
compared them with other territories and places I had seen in my previous journeys(7). From the car
window, I saw a grid of interwoven thin filaments, signs and “iconemi”(8) which repeated
themselves to form the architectonics of that fascinating show called Globalisation.
Guilmi is located on a panoramic spot of rare beauty. Walking through the village streets, one of the
first impressions I got was the majestic surrounding landscape. From the panoramic streets it was
possible to largely see the Frentani mountains covered with oak forests where the river Sinello
starts, the collapsed Rocca Spinalveti mountain, Atessa, Carpineto, Montazzoli, the Guilmi plains
and then the sea where the river flows to. The arrival in Guilmi was incredible: from the
information I had gathered I was expecting a very small town. But on the contrary it was fairly big

3. although many of the houses were uninhabited. The village had: two bars, two grocery stores, two
hairdressers, a small restaurant and a hardware store that was about to close for good. I met
Virginia, a young woman who is studying in Bologna and is the councillor for culture. Lucio, a
young man from Guilmi who works at Sevel in Atessa(9), in Val di Sangro. Aunt Irene and the
other old ladies, all strictly dressed in black, everyday sit on the bench and talk about the weather
and the past (I stopped many times for a chat, but most of the times I could not understand any word
of their dialect). Uncle Nicola, who showed me some pictures in his living room, told me about his
adventures as a soldier in Sardinia during WWII. Leonardo, Lucia's father, who gave me lots of
advice and above all told me that as a kid he could cross the road Atessa-Guilmi in half an hour, and
then the Deputy Mayor Pino, Bruna who cooked the “porchetta”, Tiziana, the hairdresser, Don Raj,
the parish priest who came from Tamil Nadu, India, and finally Mayor Carlo Racciatti. "Guilmi is
disappearing! There is no one anymore" was what each of them, during the long chats, kept telling
me, but none of them could tell me the exact number of people living in Guilmi. In fact, it was
difficult to estimate the exact number. I read from somewhere that in 1861 the population totalled
1260 inhabitants, but in the last census that was conducted in 2001, the number of residents had
dropped to 400. In order to search for more precise information, I went in one morning to the local
town registry to really find out how many residents there were. But even with the help of the officer
Cesidio, I couldn't manage to estimate the exact number. He said that many expatriates who were
living abroad, still kept their residence in Guilmi. They very rarely came back but only in the
summer, driving some big Mercedes from Germany or Switzerland in the narrow streets of the
village.
Cesidio then told me that the rise in births had unfortunately stopped since 2008. However I was
reassured by him that in 2011, there would be a new census, and therefore I should have all the
information I need. But even without these data it is quite easy to deduce the depopulation of the
village would eventually disintegrate its cornerstone economy, agriculture. De facto the land's
workforce has disappeared and so were most of the thriving rural activities of the past years. There
were no longer working animals and the donkeys, the animals for transport and hauling, had
basically disappeared. The only existing animal were the pigs, which were raised exclusively for
ventricina(10).
In the following days I was able to explore the landscape through long walks in the countryside
around town. Federico and I walked along the banks of river Sinello from its source up to Guilmi.
Step by step, the lush vegetation became increasingly difficult to walk through until it got extremely
wild and difficult to penetrate. After finding an alternative route, we went back to the route along
the river course, but from another point, crossing old mule tracks and abandoned farms (my legs

4. were completely destroyed, scratched and sore!). In the following days I continued my explorations
by focusing on three main themes: the inhabitants, the village, and the territory. In reality, although
they were distinctly observed, I tried to think of them as part of a whole as three concentric circles
where the territory contained the village and this, in turn, contained the population.
After the first week of exploration, I began to think of a strategy that would allow me to elaborate
the collected research materials. In a first stage, I reflected on the territory, trying to enhance the
perception of the landscape around Guilmi. The video entitled "Replacing my patterns in Guilmi's
landscape" was created by placing a camera in a spot of the village that allowed me to observe the
landscape by framing a very large portion of land. Just in that area, about two kilometres away from
the camera, I walked quickly into several portions of land. In the shot, given the size of my body,
very small compared to the landscape, it was like observing a small moving ant. Although most of
the doors of the houses were closed, my curiosity drove me to enter them, and understand what was
left of interest inside. "A house with closed doors, represents death for the village, an open one
means life" - told me the elderly of the town. I paused for long periods observing them, the dust on
the wood marked the passing of time.
Not satisfied with not being able to understand the decline of population in Guilmi, I decided to
bring forward the famous census of 2011 using a particular method. To quantify the presence in the
town I needed something physical and visible. For my census, every family had to give,
temporarily, an item. It had to be something strong that radiates energy, both heat and light: a lamp.
The collection also included simple bedside lamps, torches, lampshades. Visiting home by home,
family by family, I picked up the lamps while also checking and estimating the presence of the
villagers. Each lamp metaphorically represented the energy that still pulsated, vibrated and lived the
village. With the help of Virginia, Lucio, Lucia, Federico, Enzo and other guys of the village, the
collection of the lamps became a funny experience for us, and in some ways extraordinary.

5. At first, people I met, especially the elderly, thought that my request was related to an exhibition of
antique lamps of Guilmi. However, later on every resident understood the importance of my
request, and contributed with particular enthusiasm. The lamps collected were around 80. This
showed that about 80 families lived in the village. They were varied, incredible, colourful, and
simple: each lamp told a story, a life, a past. Uncle Nicola told me that his lamp was very valuable
because it was a gift for his wedding. Irene gave me a fantastic red and white lamp from the 70s.
Someone gave me lamps shaped with the shape of a globe, teddy bear or an elephant. There were
some expensive ones, shiny with a block of marble as a base, while others just a simple light bulb.
What would have I done with all these lamps? How could I give all this energy that was delivered
in my hands back to the people? I drew, wrote and thought. Subsequently I created "Rethinking
Human Energies", a performance that sought to involve not only the inhabitants, but the village as a
whole and the territory.
--------------------
After about 10 days of residency at Guilmi, on 7th
August, we opened the exhibition(11) at the small
Pitech Gallery. I set out the photos of the doors on a wall. I complemented each photograph with
drawings and notes I had collected during the residence period. Next to these, I also exhibited ten
portraits of some villagers at the time of collecting the lamps.
On the front wall I presented the video "Replacing my patterns in Guilmi's landscape” and the GPS
tracking of the exploration I had done in the river Sinello on the third wall. At 21.30 upon the stroke
of the church bells, the lights of the entire village had been turned off. A sudden blackout! The
village in Via Roma opposite the Pitech Gallery plunged into darkness in just a split second. From
the valley, the neighbouring towns could no longer see the village: Guilmi disappeared for good.
Thanks to the previous agreement I had made with the municipality. In fact, I had obtained the
permission to shut down the public lighting for about 40 minutes. There was one nominated person
to switch off the electricity at the stroke of the bells. In complete darkness, I asked everyone to
follow me. I had a powerful torch that Vice Mayor Pino had kindly lent me. In the light of one
torch, everybody followed me in a procession, with a light pointing upwards illuminating the
doorways and empty houses that flank our path. Seniors, young people, children, the mayor and
even Uncle Nicola followed in the procession in the dark. The villagers were slowly moving
through the darkness and shadows of the village: details of illuminated balconies and windows
slowly receded into the engulfing darkness, replaced by new details as the light shone from the
torch glided through the body of the buildings. The whole village was invisible and in surreal
silence, everyone was moving towards the unknown destination. Passing the Town hall, after Corso
Italia, and reaching the stairs, we went up to Largo Merdionale.
In this vast space, with the help of Enzo, Federico and Jimmy I placed all the lamps of the village

6. that people had given me. When the crowd of the procession finally took a comfortable position and
settled in a semicircle, I lit the lamps one by one. Largo Merdionale was lit up little by little, every
light emitted energy.
After turning the last lamp on, everyone there applauded spontaneously! The euphoria in the air
reached its climax when the mayor spoke to thank everyone for the event. After a few minutes, the
street lights restored, bringing the village back to normality. During the performance, for a few
times I felt as if I was reliving the same moments of the Great 1965 Blackout in New York: I felt
the sudden arrival of the sense of darkness and the power and urge to rediscover the sense of
community by everyone in such conditions. The action to turn off the village lights literally make
Guilmi disappear from the world, both personally and metaphorically, meant to stop those filaments
that make up the urban grid of the world and globalisation. Turning on the lamps that were gathered
from the village dwellers, meant a declaration of presence, as if to say: I exist! "The village is
slowly fading. But we now exist"- I was told by some after the performance. I replied "if the village
shut down, it will depend only on you." The case of Guilmi is emblematic. In Italy there is a slow
and inexorable fading process in the rural area. Italy’s economic, social, cultural heritage, which
has its great wealth in these small communities, probably is destined to disappear. The experience
in Gulmi has confirmed to me that the sense of resistance has been passed to everyone in the
village. We must be there physically, as energy, and a presence likened to that of a light source that
keeps burning.

7. References
1) The residency and research were held for two weeks in collaboration with Lucia Giardino and
Federico Bacci
2) Rene Burri, Swiss photographer. http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renè_Burri
3) I have heard from Guilmi villagers "the land moves. Look, do you see Atessa? - showing the
village in the distance from the southern lookout of Guilmi - "a few years ago we could not see it
from here, now you can see it perfectly. The land moves, the hills move, towns rise and fall. "
4) Doris Salcedo was born in 1958 in Bogotá, Colombia, where she lives and works. The
Shibboleth installation, was commissioned and produced under the Unilever Series. The exhibition
was on from 9 October 2007 to April 16, 2008 in the Turbine Hall at the Tate Modern in London
5) I have read that in addition to gas extraction, concessions have been granted to these oil
companies for the extraction of oil offshore Ortona not far from Vasto, where not only
environmental groups, but also some merchants and individuals are against it. Someone has recently
said: "Our black gold 'the nightmare of the future" –
http://www.vastesi.com/blog/2008/09/04/il-nostro-oro-nero-e-il-vero -nightmare-of-the-future /.
6) Marc Augé, Pour une anthropologie de la mobilité, 2009, trans. Gwendolyn Carbonelli
Antropologia della mobilità, Milano: Jaca Book, 2010
7) Referring to the numerous trips to the Asian mega-cities with the project What Burns Never
Returns and Overlapping Discrete Boundaries. See http://www.alessandrocarboni.org
8) A key element which eggers the complexity of the landscape. According to Eugenio Turri,
“iconemi” are the "basic units of perception which, when added in combination to other form to
give the overall image of a country. The landscape is a summary summation of many units, many
iconemi elements loaded with unique meanings - artistic, historical, etc... "Eugenio Turri, then
explained the meaning of the term" iconema. "Eugenio Turri, Paesaggio come teatro, Marsilio ,
Venice, 2006
9) About thirty Guilmesi work at Sevel in Atessa, in Val di Sangro. The plant is the largest plant
manufacturing light commercial vehicles in Europe in which products include the Fiat Ducato,
Citroen Jumper and Boxer Peugeout. Every morning at six by a small square in Guilmi bus goes to
the factory workers
10) Ventricina is a typical salami of Abruzzo. See http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ventricina
11) The exhibition was curated in collaboration with Federico Bacci and Lucia Giardino.