1722Basilicata is a region in southern Italy, a small yet profound land that holds countless layers of identity. With this project, which I have named 1722—a nod to the source of the Basento, one of the region's most vital rivers, from which even the region derives its name—I sought to capture a fragment of the essence of this place. It is a land and a people suspended between the pull of technological progress and the deep roots of their identity.
The immense investments that have fueled the rise of the oil industry have carved out zones of development that stand in stark contrast to neighboring areas, where tradition and culture remain firmly anchored in the past. In the villages scattered across this landscape—rugged and mountainous in the north, gently descending to the plains and the sea in the south—one can still find ancient rites and customs, echoes of practices that were later labeled as witchcraft during the Middle Ages. The knowledge of herbs, the casting of spells, and the intertwining of Catholicism with pre-Hellenic and shamanic rituals create a world that stands in sharp contrast to the oil wells, refineries, and the scars they leave on the land—pollution, disfigured landscapes, and, perhaps most hauntingly, the exodus of the people. This exodus, so poignantly captured by Ernesto de Martino in his book Magic: A Theory from the South, where he chronicles the early encounters between the ancient Basilicata and the forces of change, continues to this day. As the people leave, it is as if the devils have been given leave to roam the earth of Basilicata once more, with no one left to stand guard and defend it. |