Author: danieleidini

  • Ismail’s Story

    What is the experience of a refugee caught in the crisis on the Mediterranean Sea? Approximately 18,910 lives have been lost or are missing since 2014, including three-year-old Syrian boy Alan Kurdi in 2015; so far in 2019 there have been an estimated 1089 deaths.[i]

    Yesterday in a Dáil Éireann briefing room we heard testimonies from Search and Rescue NGOs operating in the Mediterranean Sea: Refugee Rescue, Proactiva Open Arms, Sea-Watch, Médecins Sans Frontières and the Irish Refugee and Migrant Coalition. The event was hosted by Sean Crowe T.D. and Senator Alice-Mary Higgins.

    Frontline Witnesses Search and Rescue Briefing, Dáil Éireann, November 7th, 2019.

    The NGOs provided accounts of ongoing tragedies from a hidden frontier.

    Their work is conducted against the backdrop of systematic criminalization of Search and Rescue missions there, as well as misinformation campaigns from Far Right movements in Italy and Spain. Piracy is rife, and the Libyan coast guards are a law onto themselves.

    NGOs fill a void left by the EU’s abnegation of responsibility, fulfilling Article 98 of the United Nations Convention of the Law of the Sea, in spite of the consequences.

    First to speak was the impressive Ismail Adam, a young man from Sudan. He has lived in Ireland since 2017 after a two-year journey. He described Libyan detention centres, months of hiding in a household working in exchange for shelter, and the eventual Italian crossing.

    The traffickers told the group the passage would take three to four hours. After perhaps two days the boat was still in the middle of the sea. Ismail was just sixteen-years old at the time.

    Since arriving in Ireland this resilient young man has embarked on the Leaving Certificate, having gained refugee status – assisted by the intervention of the Irish Refugee and Migrant Coalition.

    In his own words:

    I have no hidden agenda. I am fighting for my future, losing a future is not like losing an election or a few points on the stock market.
    I am here to speak for all generations to come with new ideas … I am only a young man and I don’t have all the solutions but we can work together and make it better.
    I feel that we have such an opportunity, in this really connecting world, to get know each other.
    In my anger I am not blind and in my fear I’m not afraid of telling the world how I feel.
    In Ireland we live a privileged, safe and great life.
    I think that is enough now.

    Ismail Adam

    How we respond to this global humanitarian crisis, involving over seventy million refugees worldwide,[ii] poses major question for receiving countries. All too often we lose sight of precious humanity who become pawns in political games.

    Images courtesy of Fellipe Lopes.

    [i] UNHCR Operational Portal, Mediterranea Situation: https://data2.unhcr.org/en/situations/mediterranean

    [ii] Untitled, ‘Worldwide displacement tops 70 million, UN Refugee Chief urges greater solidarity in response,’ UNHCR, June 19th, 2019. https://www.unhcr.org/news/press/2019/6/5d03b22b4/worldwide-displacement-tops-70-million-un-refugee-chief-urges-greater-solidarity.html

  • No Comment: Dublin Rising

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    Dublin’s Dockland, Summer 2019.

    Photography: Daniele Idini

  • Artist of the Month: Gerard Dowling

    What one leaves behind. I guess a lot of stuff. If over the last few years you have passed Bloom’s Lane, just across the Millennium Bridge on the north side of the River Liffey, you may have noticed a familiar figure. Sometimes standing on the bridge, other times reading from a bundle of newspapers and taking coffee in front of one of the four Italian joints adorning this little square, carved out by Mike Wallace in the early 00s.

    The big black coat only came off on rare summer days, and with a wide-brimmed black hat ever-present, he earned the nickname: ‘the Zorro of the Liffey’.

    This was Gerard Dowling, the Dublin artist mainly known for his twenty-year, controversial residence on 47 Middle Abbey Street, a four-story Georgian townhouse, right in the heart of the north inner city. He lived out his afternoons and evenings in this new part of town, full of recently-arrived Dublin residents; an aspect not to be overlooked, considering Gerard’s peculiar preference for solitude. He shunned empty pub conversations.

    Anyone who knew Gerard also knew where and when to find him: from 3pm in the Italian Quarter, any day of the week. After that, as the restaurants closed, he would say ‘ciao’, and proceed swiftly south across the bridge, towards his last residence in Harold’s Cross. Gerard was going to work.

    His life was a puzzle to those who knew the many ambiances he lived simultaneously among. Between his studio residence and the Italian restaurants, the bottom of the Liffey at low tide, or Focus Ireland in Temple Bar where he lunched every day, his unusual appearance made him a target of curiosity, at times openly unwelcomed.

    Originally from Ballyfermot, he entered a seminary at the age of fifteen. It was the quickest way to get out of school he said. Despite this being his choice, it was, nonetheless, a period in his life he only talked about reluctantly.

    Bit-by-bit, combining precious skills learned from an inventive father (including welding, metal-work and photography), with a lifelong capacity as an autodidact, he developed into the audacious artist frequenters of his atelier knew so well.

    He moved to London in 1969 with a desire to interact with the arts scene around Carnaby Street and Piccadilly. He wound up working as an Underground train driver, lasting two months on the job before he was sacked for smoking dope. Two years later he was back in Dublin for a brief period of time, before setting off to Paris. There he enjoyed success as a jewellery designer, working for the likes of Givenchy and Bijou Fantasies.

    Returning to 1980s Dublin, he attempted, unsuccessfully, to keep going with jewellery design; in the basement of that famous house on Abbey Street, which prior to him taking up residence there had served as his father’s place of business.

    In an Evening Press article from February 9th, 1990, he complained: ‘Thieves are robbing me of livelihood’, after a spate of robberies left him without many of his tools.

    As time went by, with other tenants leaving the premises and not being replaced, he slowly made use of the upper floors. Eventually he had the whole building to himself, which was perfectly suited to producing and exhibiting his unique works of art.

    Most of his work was recycled art, reminiscent of Marcel Duchamp’s ‘ready-made’ pieces; an artistic direction he would have encountered regularly in Paris and London, but which was extremely scarce, if non-existent, on the Dublin scene at the time.

    In the early 1990s he would regularly climb down to the River Liffey bed at low tide, also using a small raft, improvised with his father out of two Volkswagen Beetle bonnets. He would rescue various leftovers the city had spat out, from what he referred to as ‘the cradle of Dublin.’

    There he found: traffic cones, bicycle parts, fragments of the Halfpenny Bridge, record players, and shopping trolleys. He once publicly complained about the danger posed by those trolleys to inner city kids diving into the river. But mainly he was exposing environmental neglect. The river had become an endless dump for raw materials, now at his disposal, reflecting the city above’s social and economic characteristics.

    He often remarked on the increasing pile-up of mobile phones, and even wedding rings, discarded after break-ups.

    By then 47 Middle Abbey Street had become, in fact, one of the very few remaining non-institutionalised art spaces. Many recall various parties and openings regularly taking place on its different levels, largely ignored by Ireland’s official art societies and institutions.

    Institutions would, however, eventually take notice of Gerard Dowlling. After a misunderstanding with ‘The Sculpture Society of Ireland’ (now known as‘Visual Artists Ireland’) in 1991, when a dilapidated bicycle covered in seaweed and barnacles hanging from the front of the house was mistakenly assumed by journalists to belong to the Society’s official Sculpture Trail. But Gerard vehemently denied any participation.

    The furore placed his residency on Middle Abbey Street under scrutiny. Dublin City Council, and private interests, were eager to take possession of a valuable property. At the time Dublin was gearing up for the big sell-offs of property, paving the way for the Celtic Tiger, and becoming more and more of consumer society. This early plunder of the city’s architectural, social and artistic heritage passed unobserved by most.

    It led to a ten-year-long legal battle, pitting the artist against Dublin City Council. It ended seven-years-ago with Gerard forced out of the premises, although he did receive financial compensation as part of a settlement.

    Over that time, he also contended with mental health issues, mainly derived from his sister’s murder during the 1970s, a trauma he was only able to speak about openly in recent times, along with other episodes from his youth, which he usually attributed to ‘bullying.’ Despite these challenges, Gerard never stopped working on his art, even up until his last days.

    Artist Gerard Dowling hangs from a harness painting the outside of his house in Dublin City Centre, entitle”Tsunami Now”. 21/5/2005 Photo Photocall Ireland

    From being fined for painting bubble gum onto footpaths, to highlighting Dublin’s decay, and assembling massive sculptures made from traffic cones; or adorning barbed-wire Christmas trees with abandoned soothers, and using debris from motor cars to form African-inspired masks, his aesthetics never ceased to evolve. He never settled in a comfort zone derived from the guidelines seemingly accompanying contemporary art exhibitions.

    In the midst of that variety of forms, and styles, certain motifs recur. From his jewellery design he developed and enhanced fractal-like-Celtic-motifs, which reached a height expression in a collection of twelve paintings, or collages, produced over the last twenty years.

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    His late work reveals an abiding love of science, particularly the concept of energy conservation, and anthropological studies of prehistoric tools seen as the origin of human expression. He produced miniature dolmen-like structures, carving in stone to create perfect surfaces for each to be stacked on top of the other.

    [Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”54″ gal_title=”Gerard Dowling Article II”]

    Powder resulting from the process was combined with glue and napkins – pilfered from the Italian restaurants – forms five square pieces of sculptural-relief, resembling volcanic landscapes. Together with varied photographic images and an array of newspaper clippings, it surveys a life spent on the verge of notoriety.

    I like to remember what cannot be left behind materially. One of Gerard’s favourite recent activities over long afternoons spent in the Italian Quarter had been to draw convoluted patters with chalk on the pavement of the Square. Stepping back, he liked to observe who would walk and thus ruin his drawings; or those sensitive souls who would take notice of them, and kindly offer his ephemeral shapes a slight extension to their lives; at least until the first rain shower, or the incessant flow of early morning commuters.

    ©Andrea Romano

    Feature Image: Julien Behal Photography

  • No Comment – Daniele Idini

    All Images © Daniele Idini

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  • Inside the Heartland of Italy’s La Lega

    At the age of sixteen, in 2001, I took a job in a small factory which built appliances in Cardano al Campo, near Milan’s Malpensa airport. I worked there for four years.

    As with the majority of the manufacturing industries in the area, including the spring-making factory I had worked in the previous year, it was a family-run, small enterprise, with just a handful of clients. Much of the machinery dated from the first half of the twentieth century. Fortunately, as it turned out, they had invested in modern machinery that would allow them to diversify their offerings, and therefore survive the global economic crash, from 2008.

    I vividly recall the three newspapers that were delivered to the factory each morning: the Sole 24 Ore, the Italian equivalent of the Financial Times; La Prealpina, a local newspaper; and La Padania, the mouthpiece of the then rising Northern League (Lega Nord), which was allied at that time with Silvio Berlusconi’s Forza Italia.

    I also remember my colleagues being outraged at the protestors defending Article 18, which governs labour rights, despite this being to their benefit. I heard comments such as ‘they are mainly students with nothing better to do than going about shouting in the streets and smashing shop windows.’

    Back then Northern Italy was still one of the most prosperous regions in the world, and probably still is. From 1979 to 1998, Italian industrial production actually outpaced Germany’s by more than ten per cent, and most of that was in the North. But when the crisis struck businesses similar to the one I had worked in began to cascade like dominoes.

    In that factory’s industrial district more than half of the businesses folded within five years. Today in their place are parking lots for Malpensa airport.

    II – Separatism

    Italy is a country with strong regional identities, although separatism has been rare throughout its history, apart from sporadic outbursts in Sardinia, Sicily and small Alpine enclaves of German speakers.

    When the Northern League emerged in the early 1990s it captured a lot of support in my region. The then leader Umberto Bossi was born in nearby Cassano Magnago.

    As the first cracks of an unsustainable economic model were becoming apparent – well before the earthquake hit – mistrust and cynicism towards the political establishment had become widespread. This was especially apparent among the working class in the kind of businesses that I worked for, which formed the backbone of the region’s, and arguably the nation’s prosperity.

    In the beginning the Northern League called for a federal model of government, inspired by nearby Switzerland, but the leadership soon became outspoken in their separatist aspirations. This was, however, quite different to nationalist movements elsewhere, such as in Sardinia, as the Northern League ceased to be a genuine threat to the territorial integrity of the country once they entered the labyrinth of national politics.

    Blaming Italian society’s ills on an enemy within was their main tactic for gaining support from the beginning: the corrupt political class from Rome, Roma Ladrona, the lazy Southerner and the parasitic Roma community were convenient scapegoats, at a time when political discourse had been coarsened under Berlusconi’s dominance.

    The Italian economy began to fragment in the wake of joining the euro, which did not allow for the periodic currency devaluations that had kept the country competitive. The government failed to control the price of consumer goods after the changeover, while salaries remained static. This eroded significantly the purchasing power of households.

    As the global banking system imploded, and businesses migrated to distant countries with lower labour costs, fortunes were lost, savings dried up and many were left unemployed. This coincided with a rapid rise in immigration; first from Eastern European countries such as Albania, then later from Africa and Asia.

    Almost overnight Italy became a multicultural society, and government services, especially in housing and education, were not prepared for the influx.

    The migrants who settled in Italy became symbolic of the global forces that had proved so ruinous to many. They became the new target for the Northern League, which under Matteo Salvini conveniently buried its difference with the South of Italy, re-branding itself as simply the League (La Lega), and finding new scapegoats.

    III – The New Government

    As I worked in the factory I managed to complete my high school education by night, which gave me the opportunity to travel and gain a greater perspective on the world. But I recognise from my region the kind of talk about foreigners that I hear now from Salvini, and others.

    How do we explain the rise of Salvini? In the last election his party emerged as the third largest in the country and the main party of the Centre-Right alliance, which included Berlusconi’s Forza Italia and other Centre and Right wing parties.

    After discussions which took months, an agreement was reached to form a government between the largest party, the Five Star Movement (M5S), which had insufficient representatives to form one alone, and the League. Crucially, Salvini was allowed to become Minister of the Interior, where he is in a position to implement xenophobic policies.

    Salvini seems to understand that power is increasingly located in the social media space and below-the-line commentaries on newspaper articles and videos. One tolerant commentator might find himself against ten online reactionaries, who in their normal lives may have a quite peaceful disposition. This kind of short-attention-span politics is an ideal breeding ground for racist stereotypes and armchair experts.

    When Salvini says we need to repatriate five hundred thousand illegal immigrants he receives a wave of online endorsement, despite this being a remote possibility without outrageous human rights violations being perpetrated.

    Likewise, he says that we will expel all illegal ‘Roma’, but ‘unfortunately we will have to keep the Italian ones’. The key word here is “unfortunately.”

    Of course it might just all be hot air. But he has tapped into an angry mood.

    III – Migrations

    I have been living beyond the borders of my native Italy for fourteen years now, but I am still transfixed by our dysfunctional politics as much as the next Italian, and have access to the world’s media. I have witnessed how state institutions fail and even persecute people, and could tell stories that only Italians would believe.

    Like many among my generation, born in the 1980s, I had begun to despair that politics would continue to be dominated by corrupt elites – complicit or just plain lazy members of the public administration –  and mafias with tentacles extending throughout every aspect of the Italian economic system.

    At the same time, Silvio Berlusconi’s media empire seemed to have made pulp out of our collective brains. His Forza Italia party took over from the Christian Democrats and the Craxian left-wing faction as the dominant force after the Mani Pulite (clean hands) scandal in the 1990s. But real power lay with global elites and organised crime.

    Not even the vestiges of our great civilisation and the Rule of Law could actually bring down Berlusconi. It was left to the European Community to deliver the coup de grâce. In return Italy was sentenced by its European partners to perma-austerity. Guess what: Berlusconi is still alive and kicking.

    Italy has been the first port of call for the majority of Africans seeking to make Europe their home, and they have been prevented from moving further afield due to the unfair Dublin Regulation of 2014. Many new arrivals have been reduced to virtual slave labourers, or become entangled in the mafias of the South.

    Meanwhile, in order to stanch the flow, the Italian government, along with its European partners-in-crime, entered into an agreement with the Libyan authorities, which has led to the establishment of internment camps for aspiring migrants, where NGOs report appalling abuses. Just last week, the European Community agreed to attempt to build further reception centres around Africa, and even within Europe. But reception of refugees by another state is on a voluntary basis, meaning nothing of any consequence will happen.

    The Trumpian use by Salvini of the migrants aboard the rescue ship the Aquarius as political pawns was an absolute disgrace, but it is worth bearing in mind that what we are not hearing about in the news is probably worse. Every minute of uncertainly for every migrant creates further unnecessary suffering.

    There are no easy solutions to the problems faced by Italy, and Europe. Migrants are entering what is already a densely populated country with an ineffective government. The absence of adequate accommodation makes migrants more visible, and an obvious target.

    George Soros is a hate figure for many Italians because of his support for migrant rights. But his proposal for the equivalent of a Marshall Plan for Africa makes a lot of sense. It would also be useful for Italians to understand that the country’s declining birth rates mean the economy will soon need more workers. But short-attention-span-politics makes that argument difficult to make.

    The hateful message of Salvini grows more powerful by the day.

    V – The Cuckoo in the Nest

    The emergence of the M5S seemed to offer the hope of revolutionary change in Italian society and politics. I followed Bebe Grillo’s blog from its inception, and it was a breath of fresh air, although I did not agree with everything he had to say.

    The appeal of M5S is analogous to the League’s. It is Populist, reflecting, right or wrong, what ordinary people think. In particular it challenges the elites.

    The question is whether the alliance which the M5S has entered into with the League is a pact with the Devil. But it was the only conceivable way for a government to be formed, once the Democratic Party stubbornly refused to enter negotiations to form a coalition. That party’s credibility faded when they embraced the politics of perma-austerity, and the sight of former leading figures like Elena Bosci cavorting with Berlusconi fills most left-leaning Italians with disgust.

    Recent polls and local election results show clearly that the big winners of the coalition have been the League, who are now the most popular party in the country. The Guardian has even referred to Salvini as Italy’s de facto prime minister, which only serves to bolster his legitimacy.

    But this is not true, and I remain hopeful that aspects of the M5S’s policies will be implemented, such as tackling the ridiculously high pensions awarded to retired officials. Grand infrastructural projects costing billions of euros, such as the Lyon to Turin high speed rail, which bring few benefits to the working class, may also be shelved. Perhaps too they can set about cleaning up the toxic poisoning of places such as Terra dei Fuochi, and just maybe challenge the extensive networks of organised crime.

    However, the agreement entered into between the parties is highly aspirational, ranging from a regressive plan for a flat tax and a guarantee of a basic income for all Italians.  It is difficult to see the government lasting very long, and the worry is that Salvini, with the wind in his sails, emerges as the big winner. Like the cuckoo in the nest.