{"id":5897,"date":"2020-05-11T08:15:10","date_gmt":"2020-05-11T08:15:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.annalu.it\/immagini-dacqua-mito-reverie\/"},"modified":"2020-07-23T13:45:35","modified_gmt":"2020-07-23T13:45:35","slug":"images-of-myth-reverie-water","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.annalu.it\/en\/images-of-myth-reverie-water\/","title":{"rendered":"Images of myth reverie water"},"content":{"rendered":"
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BY ALESSANDRO RIVA (2010)<\/small>Images of myth reverie water<\/h2>\n[\/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”” el_class=”xtd-spacer”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/3″][vc_single_image image=”626″ img_size=”full” style=”xtd-shadow–normal-light” el_class=”xtd-offset-frame”][vc_empty_space height=”” el_class=”xtd-spacer”][vc_column_text]\n
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“Annal\u00f9 turns solids into fluids, material into immaterial, stable into unstable.<\/span>“<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n[\/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”Download Text” style=”btn-outline-primary” align=”center” link=”url:http%3A%2F%2Fwww.annalu.it%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2020%2F07%2FImmagini-acqua-mito-reverie_A-Riva_ENG.pdf||target:%20_blank|”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”2\/3″ offset=”vc_col-lg-offset-1 vc_col-lg-7″][vc_column_text]\n

In 1988, the journal Nature published an article that caused a sensation. This article, signed by the French immunologist Jacques Benveniste, supported a very eculiar and extremely meaningful theory – which would later give rise to deep divergences, accusations, counter-accusations and denials in the international scientific community. This theory became known as the discovery of “water memory”.<\/span><\/p>\n

Water molecules, according to Benveniste, possessed some “memory” of the antibodies they had come into contact with. As if all the water on earth – the water of the rivers, the lakes, the sea, the one flowing from mountain springs as well as from our kitchen taps – were aware of what it had seen or “felt” on its way, and retained a faint memory of the things it had come into contact with. As if water had a memory, thus, in a wider sense, maybe also a conscience, a thought – in brief, an unconscious. Gaston Bachelard is the philosopher who best meditated upon the deep meaning of dreaming, of daydreaming, or rather of that peculiar process which can be hardly translated and that in French is called r\u00eaverie (maybe it might be called dreamy daydream; this has much to do with poetic imagination and also with letting oneself go to poetic creation, contemplation and memory – when “a little bit of night matter” remains “forgotten in the clarity of the day”; and enables poets, dreamers and artists to get rid of the function of reality, in order to enter a sychic state when even the real world “is absorbed by the world of imagination”, and in which “memories are fixed in overview pictures, scenarios prevail over drama, sad memories fade away into melancholy”); Gaston Bachelor, indeed, wrote many important pages about the imaginative and poetic power inside water images, and the very matter of water. Memory, water and poetic imagination are, according to Bachelard, three closely connected terms.<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][vc_row_inner content_placement=”middle” gap=”35″][vc_column_inner width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]“There is a water sleeping at the bottom of each memory”, the philosopher writes in The oetics of Reverie, following the same path as those oets who, by and in their works, bear witness to “an aspiration to go beyond the limit, to go upstream, to recover the vast lake with still waters where time rests” – that lake is always in us “as the place where a motionless childhood still resides”. The water Bachelard talks about in his metaphor is still, calm (an eau dormante), because it is deep, deeper than the very nature of our real memory – a water prior to the being, or “below the being and above the nothingness” – that searches for not only our real recollections, our real childhood, the one we really lived, but also a melting pot of possible childhoods, of imagined lives – plausible if not real -, and of “recollections going beyond our memory, of dreams which have never disappeared”.<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1\/2″]

[vc_single_image image=”1114″ img_size=”full”][vc_single_image image=”1115″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”]<\/div><\/div><\/div>[\/vc_column_inner][\/vc_row_inner][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row gap=”35″ content_placement=”middle” css=”.vc_custom_1588941456356{padding-bottom: 0px !important;}”][vc_column width=”2\/3″][vc_single_image image=”1109″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” style=”xtd-shadow–normal-normal”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”5\/12″ offset=”vc_col-lg-offset-1 vc_col-lg-3″][vc_column_text]“Childhood”, the philosopher writes, “is a human water, a water which comes out of the shadows”; and this childhood “of mists and flashes”, this life “experienced in the slowness of limbos”, “grants depth to the birth”, or rather to thousands of possible births, because – by our own ability to daydream, or by the work of artists who are able to start these psychic mechanisms inside us -, we give birth to thousands of other possible lives besides the one we really lived: “We originated so many beings!”, Bachelard writes. “So many lost springs went on flowing! The r\u00eaverie of our past, the r\u00eaverie in search of childhood, seems to give space to lives which have not been lived, but just imagined. [\u2026] In the r\u00eaverie we get in contact with possibilities which destiny was not able to take advantage of. A big paradox emerges from our childhood r\u00eaveries: this dead past has a future in us, the future of its living images, the future of r\u00eaveries that is opening up in front of each recovered image”.<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row gap=”35″ content_placement=”middle” css=”.vc_custom_1588941489903{padding-bottom: 0px !important;}”][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]Since remote ancient times, the image of water – just like the image of flight – has carried out the function of archetype of man’s deep conscience, as well as of its own origin. Countless water images originated some of the most ancient myths in the history of mankind. Ancient Greeks considered the Ocean as the origin of the Gods and all the creatures, even the Genesis describes the Spirit of God “hovering over the waters” when the earth was still “formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters”. In the Vedas, the sacred texts of Hinduism, instead, we can read “an expanse of water with no light” being the prime cause of everything. On the other hand, the amniotic fluid water is where every human form of life originates – it is our origin and the “zero point” of our conscience. There is an extraordinary ancient Hindu myth in which the fluid, magic, irrational reality of water is extremely meaningful and symbolic: a myth in which reality is defined as the origin of the magical consequence of a water dream, where the real and the dreamed intersect until you cannot distinguish one from another anymore: and the unifying element is, once again, just water. <\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]This myth is named after the figure of saint M\u00e2rkandeya, and his journey in the infinite waters of god Vishnu’s body: M\u00e2rkandeya sees the body of the god asleep in the middle of a vast expanse of water – a deep, black, primordial water -, and he mistakes him for a mountain range; he approaches him, then the god swallows him, spits him out, and swallows him again. The sight of primordial waters is in itself, according to saint M\u00e2rkandeya, a sign of confusion: he does not know if the waters, and himself along with them, were the work of a dream – the dream of the god who dreams the world, the waters from which the world originated, and us, who are integral parts of the world. Water is therefore the symbol of a birth – the birth of the world, and, along with it, of ourselves – as well as the image of a loss: the loss of the conscience of the world – the real world, as we are used to knowing it – in favour of a truer and deeper revelation: the cosmos and human nature. In the vast and deep waters of the unconscious lays the risk of losing your own earthly nature, to somehow rejoin the depth of the cosmos, and thus the secret and truer core of your own spiritual nature.<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row gap=”35″ content_placement=”middle”][vc_column width=”2\/3″][vc_single_image image=”1111″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” style=”xtd-shadow–normal-normal”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”5\/12″ offset=”vc_col-lg-offset-1 vc_col-lg-3″][vc_column_text]Annal\u00f9 has lived all her life with her feet immersed in water and a good head on her shoulders \u2013 just like Cecilia Scacerni, the main character of the Italian literature masterpiece by Riccardo Bacchelli, the Mill by the river o (unfortunately not enough appreciated and studied). Annal\u00f9\u2019s destiny, though, was not to be born along the river Po, that crosses and gives name to one of the most flourishing Italian plain – the Po valley \u2013 but along the river Piave, whose name recalls many stories, battles, adventures, disillusions and hopes (as well as suffering and deaths) that make up not only our history but also what is called our “identity” – in this case, national identity. Annal\u00f9 lives along the Piave, in a ile-house. In the past, it was made of wood, today it is built of bricks. A house, as she tells us, that “breathes” because of all the stories that have passed over the river and have been lived, “and has the same salty smell of the water. A water,” Annal\u00f9 says, “that is green-blue and because we are near the sea, sometimes ‘runs upstream’ (it has the power to reverse) and is salty, sometimes it \u2018runs downstream’ and is sweet”.<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row gap=”35″ css=”.vc_custom_1588940911304{padding-top: 0px !important;}”][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]Annal\u00f9 does not live in any house: she lives in a house that once belonged to her father, and before that, to her grandmother.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her grandmother’s name was Anna but she went by the name of \u201cNanea”. She was a “boatwoman” and her job was to ferry whoever passed that way from one side of the river to the other. Annal\u00f9 has lived through the stories she heard and collected in the family, thousands of river stories. She has listened to them, she has re-told them, she has re-lived them, literally. In retrospect, she has been part of them, she has been leased and excited by them and has suffered, recording those songs, those passages, those isolated images, stuck to the retina through old black and white photos found in a drawer. Photos of kids who cross the river, balancing on an old boat, a happy and carefree youth from another era; or a guy taking a girl in his arms and laughing, laughing, laughing, happy in his youth, a youth lasting a moment, and then disappearing; young days of the past, on the river, memories of other times, other clothes, other hairdos, other atmospheres, certainly: yet, the same water, the same river, the same house as today, made those memories her own, and allowed the sedimentation and the digging of a small place inside her, a remote and inaccessible place, made of that impalpable and airy substance of dreams and ancestral memories – lived or imagined memories, since even memories experienced by others, at times, can become our own, and dig a safe and boundless place in the deep water of our unconscious.\u00a0<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]Here are some of her grandmother\u2019s memories, belonging to the Piave “\u2026many foreigners fell into the water\u2026 most of them were drunk. Carrying their bodies ashore was such a hard work, I don\u2019t know how I managed! At the end I got used to it, but the first years, at night, I kept thinking about them and I could not sleep. I thought: how could I have handled all this? If it only were for one year, two, three\u2026 it would have been easier. But I have lived buried for thirty years!\u201d Thirty years along the river. The boatwoman. Water. Whirlpools. Streams. Floods. And the river tricks\u2026. The deep, twirling, endless water of the river\u2026.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“In the fifties the Piave shores were like a beach\u2026 until Luigi drowned. Before that, from noon to three, four in the afternoon there were forty, fifty people going there. Moreover, every family had its access to the shore for their animals. It was always so crowded \u2013 so joyful. That eriod was a happy time. After the accident, since the very following day, no one came anymore. Death had traumatized everyone.\u201d<\/span><\/em>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row gap=”35″ content_placement=”middle” css=”.vc_custom_1594909747728{padding-top: 0px !important;}”][vc_column width=”1\/4″][vc_column_text]Today we don\u2019t know who Luigi was. Nevertheless, sometimes, other people\u2019s memories get stuck to our hearts and start digging. Death came and took a man\u2019s life, Luigi\u2019s, who died one day, thirty years ago, in the iave. It ruined the party for someone. Youth, perhaps, ended the same day for many others. The river showed its dark, terrible side. A sudden death. And a piece of memory, impalpable and light, passes from one mind to the other, from one generation to the next one: but, relentless, it sticks to the folds of time. It gets into our dreams. Today. More than fifty years later. What are dreams made of? What \u201cdreamy\u201d matter are they made of? And why the restless water, that runs, boils, beats, that at the bottom seems so dark, almost black, why does that water seem to be part of us, of our dreams, of our story, of our soul<\/em>?<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”3\/4″][vc_single_image image=”1112″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” style=”xtd-shadow–normal-normal”][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1595511313097{padding-bottom: 0px !important;}”][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]Annal\u00f9 went back to her river. She went back to water. She started one of those revealing paths, in which the impalpable matter of dreams, memories, multiple sensations, family and intimate history tries to reckon with reality. Mixing with it. Trying to win over it. To keep it upon thorns, in suspense, in equilibrium. Annal\u00f9 plays on a delicate thread. It can break easily. It can become rhetorical. It risks to disappear as a drop in a river. But Annal\u00f9 does not get discouraged. She picks up objects from the river, just like her grandmother picked up drowned bodies. She fishes for relicts. Old bloated barks. The river garbage. The damned. The souls, the remains of a thousand tales touched by the river. The ancestral memory of water. And she resuscitates them.<\/span><\/p>\n

She brings them back to life. She leaves them there to sediment, through the rough matter of memory and time. Then, she manipulates them. She moulds them. She makes them immortal, before the corrosion and decay of time could sink them into oblivion. “The paths, the \u201charvest\u201d, the tales contained in the material \u2013 the artist says \u2013 fascinated me from the beginning\u201d Annal\u00f9 assembles strange, sometimes even incongruous materials, that seem unwilling to be bond together. Material oxymoron. Resins. Barks. Fiberglass. Strange encounters. Bizarre shapes. Imaginary architectures. Metamorphoses.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alchemies of a never static, fluid matter. A matter always in motion, fluid and inorganic. Swerving to the left. Telling stories that only well trained ears, eager to listen to the liquid, immaterial sound of dreams, can erceive. R\u00eaveries. Dreams of childhood, of old tales, of stories never lived. Water, wood, fiberglass (the material used to build boats), resin \u2013 fluid materials which, manipulated by the artist, evoke ancient, ancestral stories. Old legends, that seem drawn on water. Exactly \u2013 books made of water. Could a more evident oxymoron possibly exist in the world? Usually books are made of paper. Paper is wood, a solid, static matter. An earthly matter. Annal\u00f9 turns solids into fluids, material into immaterial, stable into unstable. The boundary is thin, the rope is always tight to the limit. At the end, how can the image of water be stopped still?<\/span><\/p>\n

In Annal\u00f9\u2019s sculptures, water drops are stopped in the very moment they are being sprayed to the sky. Annal\u00f9 is following the impossible dream to stop the instant, right when it is happening. She fights against time and expects to win. To do so, she uses the metaphor of the Water element \u2013 symbolizing both the passing of time and its birth. Before water, there was no world. There was no man.<\/span><\/p>\n

Time did not exist. Resin drops stretch out crazily and rashly: they are frozen instants, in a time which does not seem human any longer. How can time be stopped still through form? \u201cI believe this, too, is a part of my work: I think the magic of an object can also be felt in its ventured shapes. Water is such an unpredictable element\u2026 which I had to manage, manage as an alchemist\u2026 as an artist\u201d. Alchemy, indeed; a dive into one\u2019s unconscious, into one\u2019s ancestral memory. Manipulation of matter, of reality.<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]In his essay \u201cKabbalah and Alchemy\u201d, Arturo Schwarzwrites \u201cthe term alchemy indicates a preliminary or rimeval stage of chemistry.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

However, alchemy has never been a proto-science as, although sharing science\u2019s purpose \u2013 conquering knowledge \u2013 its aim was achieving self-consciousness and the unification of the divided self. Right from its dawning, alchemy has had a transcendental dimension, an ethical connotation and a mystical approach… the term defining the alchemic work, the hilosopher\u2019s stone, clarifies that the alchemist\u2019s quest aimed to the highest knowledge (aurea apprehensio). Research has a fundamental importance in the alchemical writings, because it is only through research that the alchemist can obtain the knowledge he aspires to. Thus, the quest was more important than the prize, or better still, the quest was the prize, since knowledge, self-consciousness, implies freedom which is, as already explained above, the purpose of alchemy\u201d. It is no coincidence that Jung was extremely interested in this aspect of alchemy, pointing out the strong similarities between the metals transmutation and the alchemist\u2019s contemporary psychic transformation, highlighting the importance of the alchemist\u2019s learning process and sychological, inner reformation (what Jung defined the \u201cindividuation\u201d process), which indeed the search for the \u201chighest knowledge\u201d entailed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“I talk about a world frozen in metamorphosis\u201d the artist says, \u201cand alchemy is lightness\u201d. To stop time. To catch the shape of dreams. To conquer one\u2019s memory and, through it, the very ancestral memory of the world. Annal\u00f9\u2019s crazy wager proceeds cautiously and resolutely at the same time. Jellyfish of the unconscious. Magical puddles. Hanging trees. Unreal sleeping beings. Impossible chairs. Floating benches. Swings of plumes. Impalpable butterflies. \u201cThey are all works containing both myth and reality, an earthly optical vision and a dreamy one\u201d says Annal\u00f9. The springs of the inner myth are still flowing out, free, unrestrained. \u201cHow many beings have we originated! How many lost sources have kept on flowing! In the r\u00eaverie”, wrote Bachelard, “we get in touch with possibilities that destiny has not been able to exploit”. The paradox of r\u00eaverie, in Annal\u00f9\u2019s works, is more intact than ever. As crystal clear, as quivering as the river water. “This dead past has a future in us, a future made out of its living images, a future of reveries opening before every recovered image\u201d.<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1595511306888{padding-top: 0px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_column_text]\n

Text of the catalog “Images of water, myth and Reverie” by A. Riva. Personal Exhibition, Wannabee Gallery, Milan, 2010.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row]\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[vc_row curly_padding=”content-padding” css=”.vc_custom_1504195713546{padding-bottom: 0px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_column_text] BY ALESSANDRO RIVA (2010)Images of myth reverie water [\/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”” el_class=”xtd-spacer”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/3″][vc_single_image image=”626″ img_size=”full” style=”xtd-shadow–normal-light” el_class=”xtd-offset-frame”][vc_empty_space height=”” el_class=”xtd-spacer”][vc_column_text] “Annal\u00f9 turns solids into fluids, material into immaterial, stable into unstable.“ [\/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”Download Text” style=”btn-outline-primary” align=”center” link=”url:http%3A%2F%2Fwww.annalu.it%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2020%2F07%2FImmagini-acqua-mito-reverie_A-Riva_ENG.pdf||target:%20_blank|”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”2\/3″ offset=”vc_col-lg-offset-1 vc_col-lg-7″][vc_column_text] In 1988, the journal Nature published an article that caused a sensation. This article, signed by the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-5897","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nImages of myth reverie water - Annal\u00f9<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.annalu.it\/en\/images-of-myth-reverie-water\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Images of myth reverie water - Annal\u00f9\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[vc_row curly_padding=”content-padding” css=”.vc_custom_1504195713546{padding-bottom: 0px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_column_text] BY ALESSANDRO RIVA (2010)Images of myth reverie water [\/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”” el_class=”xtd-spacer”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/3″][vc_single_image image=”626″ img_size=”full” style=”xtd-shadow–normal-light” el_class=”xtd-offset-frame”][vc_empty_space height=”” el_class=”xtd-spacer”][vc_column_text] “Annal\u00f9 turns solids into fluids, material into immaterial, stable into unstable.“ [\/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”Download Text” style=”btn-outline-primary” align=”center” link=”url:http%3A%2F%2Fwww.annalu.it%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2020%2F07%2FImmagini-acqua-mito-reverie_A-Riva_ENG.pdf||target:%20_blank|”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”2\/3″ offset=”vc_col-lg-offset-1 vc_col-lg-7″][vc_column_text] In 1988, the journal Nature published an article that caused a sensation. 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