“Via Guerrazzi, 21” is a work environment by Flavio Favelli.
In the words of Flavio Favelli: “There is no more ghostly place than Via Guerrazzi, 21. I lived twenty-seven years between the first and second floors in three apartments of this building. I came here in 1974. Putting together so many moments I would say that in the end I spent a few weeks of my life watching the inner garden, the palm trees sometimes with the snow, the Calicanthus flowers and those of the evergreen Magnolia. Via Guerrazzi 21, together with the house of Pavana, is the place where all the affairs of my family have been consumed, a great literary work, where I have been a central character; in the end with me the whole story ends. An only child and for ten years tutor, almost to defend and keep poetically and legally all this stuff. Stuff because what remains is furniture, buildings, objects and images of an infinite story. On the top floor of the steep and dark stairs, now painted with a Superintendency color, I never ventured because he lived in a strange, elegant and distinguished person, always wearing dark glasses even though it was dark; Mr. B. was inverted as my grandmother Tosca warned. In the other apartment lived the Signorine S. two almost invisible elderly sisters of Palermo who contributed to the silence and to the idea that the exception confirmed the rule: in the center of Bologna the Bolognese lived there.
The first large apartment had floorings with the Venetian and the high ceilings, one was frescoed and my father had put two colored spotlights one yellow and one blue on a shelf above the door jamb, in glossy ivory glaze, to give a spectacular effect. My mother once had a meal for five of my classmates, even if I never understood why. To drink there was fresh juice served in a jug-thermos with glass inside and cork exterior, worked and silvered.
Before pouring my mother mixed for a last time and the glass burst, a glass almost mirror, marbled with reflections brass. Once my grandfather Carlo, Tosca’s husband, rebuked me because I was mixing the tea counterclockwise.
Do not mix otherwise! he took me back.
Everything had a verse and a place for him, the pylons of the world supported themselves with the precise application of the right rules among which to mix clockwise. Clear rules of different origins: good manners, good taste, superstition, Catholic Civilization and bourgeois customs. I always remained with the doubt that my mother mixed that opposite in an inverted way. ”
Friday 2nd and Sunday 4th from 4pm to 8pm
Saturday 3th from 4pm to 10pm