‘The limits of my language mean the limits of my world’ (Wittgenstein)

In 1969 the Italian Government proposed to build a military base on the site where Pratobello sits. The people of Pratobello and nearby Orgosolo came together to protest. Orgosolo has a long history of people banding together to support and protect each other. The people of the region occupied Pratobello to oppose the building of a military base on the site. Men, women, children, shepherds and everyone in the area mobilised and lined up on the fields surrounding Pratobello in a non-violent manifestation against the planned military action. Today, the people of Orgosolo remember those days with pride: “I was there, I was there” was the response of one man I talked to “We were really all united against any military claim. We lined up posing as shepherds to lay claim to the land and stayed there for days defying the police sent by the government.”

The village of Pratobello as it stands today was described to me as abandoned. The crumbling buildings show the scars of human existence in what is left of the village. Amongst the crumbling houses, chapel and other buildings, non-human life has reclaimed the space. These structures record the passing of time Grass, plants, trees, flowers and animals have interwoven with the decaying buildings and infrastructure to create a new scarred landscape with traces of destruction, pain and absence juxtaposed with the ongoing natural cycle as the main mode of aesthetic registration. Buildings have been reclaimed by plants, animals and birds, the latter building their nests in the corners of rooms once occupied by human families. The limits of my language meant that I had to rely on translation to learn about the history of Pratobello, but in fact the language of Pratobello today is birdsong.

*made during the ‘photo solstice’ residency, Gavoi, Sardegna, June 2022