To inhabit/perform the poems of Gabriele Tinti is akin to the Sysiphian effort of rolling the stone, to be constantly thwarted in the goal.
However, there are deposits of gold in this mythic stone which reflect the light, like small facets of wisdom, wrought from the alchemical journey, holding a mirror up to Nature, including that of our own; our broken limbs, torn hearts, empty souls, or the pull of the mouth in despair of our efforts, even our victories. The threat of meaninglessness and it’s liberation.
His words wrestle with the soul’s desire to be free of the trajectory from birth to death, or at least to understand it, through the gods, through mortals and their muses; all lying behind the mask of the individual, the actor on the universal stage inhabits luminosity and indolence, stagnation and regeneration, with the inevitable cycle, repeating, failing, reminiscent of the theology of Samuel Beckett, and the philosophy of the goddess Khali; Creation. Preservation. Destruction. His prayers and laments carry the thin smoke of both incense and excrement, of blood and saliva, mortal’s jewels, which we offer the gods we invent, both sacred and profane.
The characters Tinti draws from the Greek myths; the muses, the slaves, enable ‘the actor’ to inhabit the essential struggle of what it is to be human, like a Noh play, doomed to repetition and the transcendence gained from it, to be human under the burning sun, which both gives life and destroys. Our efforts and yearning, melting in the great fire , like the wings of Icarus, falling, in the glory of the effort, existing then, and now, born and dying into the hope of transcendence, each moment, each word, a prayer, a cry, an offering to the dimension of the Unknown, as represented in ritual and expression, the landscape of ideas built upon the efforts of humanity, recumbent, ruined, and from this stagnation and death, arrives the possibility, like the glint of light from Sisyphus stone, our opportunity.
‘The actor’ puts on the mask exploring the possibilities in detachment, in union, that the cosmos outside their self might be better understood within. – Márton Csókás.