Articoli marcati con tag ‘Roberto’


 The Italian magazine “Isola 21”, in its last issue, has dedicated one full page to Roberto Alborghetti “Lacer/actions” Art. The article is signed by journalist Laura Di Teodoro who reports about Roberto visual research devoted to torn posters and urban signs. During his interview, the Italian artist talks how and when he began to collect the incredible images of ripped ads he finds on the cities walls around the world. Laura Di Teodoro writes: “Roberto Alborghetti Art is essentially based on the observation of all what passes under our eyes… Sometimes we risk not to see the colors that surround us – Alborghetti points out -. If we try to stop for some seconds maybe we have the way to discover that even some paper wastes can give unrivalled chromaticisms… Paper doesn’t dye; the more it is decomposed, the more it is astonishing”.

Laura Di Teodoro writes: “In fact – as Roberto Alborghetti says – we find difficulties to think that behind faded and torn messages there may still be “something” to be seen or discovered. But these lacerated images – from this term comes the “Lacer/actions” brand – continue to be a mirror of the talking city. They are the post-communicating findings of a product, an event, a performing idea… In the lacerated advertisings is recognizable the unwrapped city, self-destroying in the messages, self-regenerating and self-reproducing in new visual elements, often contradictory, dissonant, discordant, but still surprisingly vital.”  

“Isola 21” (“Island 21”, from the name of a territory in Milan area) is a full-color review edited by journalist and author Giuseppe Zois.  



Il periodico “Isola 21”, nel numero uscito pochi giorni fa, dedica una intera pagina a Roberto Alborghetti ed al suo progetto artistico “Lacer/azioni”. L’articolo è firmato da Laura Di Teodoro. “Isola 21”, 42 pagine, a quattro colori, è diretta dal giornalista e scrittore Giuseppe Zois. Pubblichiamo qui sopra la riproduzione della pagina con l’articolo.


My father was in that hell and I told his incredible story in a book …  

 Dr. Srini Pillay – Harvard psychiatrist, author, brain imaging researcher and columnist – says that art is a form of healing and it may help us to face tragedies and loss… I dedicated this artwork to Kefalonia massacre ( title: Kefalonia, 1943 – Victims & martyrs. The blood tracks # 1; canvas/mixed media, 87×57, Lacer/actions Project). My father Battista is a survivor of that terrible tragedy in which died 9.000 Italian soldiers (1943) killed and exterminated by German Nazis.

 I gathered his incredible story and I published a little book, “My father in the hell of Kefalonia / A survivor memory, an unpunished massacre and the State conspiracy of silence”. Saturday January 28, 2012 – in the same days devoted in Italy to remember Shoah victims – Battista native Municipality dedicates him a conference and a ceremony (h.8,45 pm, Centro Sociale, Ambivere, Bergamo, Milan Area). Italian Council of Ministers Presidency has recently confered to Battista the “Medal of honor” established for Italian civilians and militaries deported and interned in nazi concentration camps. This event gives me the occasion to show my artwork and to present an english abstract from my book.



Battista Alborghetti’s testimony gathered by his son Roberto.

A nightmare. This is still for me, Kefalonia. I’m a survivor. I was in that hell from November 1942 to November 1944, along with other 11.600 Italians. After September 8, 1943 – as a result of our refusal to surrender to the German army – 10.500 Italian soldiers were massacred. A terrible massacre, that still remains in my eyes and on my mind. There are so many images about those awful days of terror: stories of war and death, written in the blood of so many young people who pursued the dream of a better Italy. I was nineteen years old when I was assigned to the Divisione Acqui – at 33th Artillery, First group, Second battery – on the Greek-Albanian front, already controlled by German Army. The armistice proclaimed in Italy by general Badoglio changes our destinies. Germans claim our surrender, but they do not offer sufficient guarantees about of the Italian troops repatriation. Italian officers called a consultation between the departments: it’s an unprecedented event in the modern army history. We decide to refuse surrender and not give our weapons to the germans. And after that, the Apocalypse…

In the early hours of the battle I see my three companions dying. They fall down close to me. Some minutes later, a splinter of a grenade explosion hits my left leg. The Acqui Division – poor in weapons – is destroyed. People who do not succumb in the fighting they become prey of the Wehrmacht. German soldiers rakes the island, inch by inch. I escaped from the capture in a couple of occasions; I hide myself between mules and I repaire inside water pipes in the undergrowth. They capture me on September 21.

About 300 Officers (captains, lieutenats and second lieutenants) were captured and transferred to that, sadly, is now known as the “Red House”, in San Teodoro. Against every principle of the international conventions, they are shot within 36 hours, four people a turn… The corpses, weighed down with rolls of barbed wire, they were then thrown into the sea, sprinkled with petrol and burned in bonfires, whose light illuminated the night, leaving a foul smell in the air.

My companions were loaded onto trucks and taken somewhere: I won’t see them anymore. My friend, the second lieutenant Giampietro Matteri – from Dongo (Como), twenty-two years old - is killed on September 24. The same destiny for another friend, the second lieutenant Pillepich, from Trieste: I still remember the terror in his eyes when, together with eleven companions, he was dragged from the group. Few minutes later we heard the shots of machine guns, followed by cries of pain, yells, invocations. And then other shots. The finishing strokes.

At the concentration camp we were treated worse than beasts. In the morning, Wehrmacht officers assembled us, offering – as they were saying – “the chance to return to Italy”. But I always said to myself: if they want to kill me, I prefer that they do it here. We now know: who accepted that proposals they were shot. They were shipped on steamers, as easy targets for Stukas airplanes or for floating mines. It’s what that happened to my compatriot, Ferdinando Mangili. He climbed aboard of one of those ships that were full of soldiers who looked forward to reach home… But the ship was sunk off and the waves returned the corpses… The Germans forced me to bury the dead, all around the island. Chaplain father Luigi Ghilardini and I, we recomposed corpses or what was left of bodies mangled by bullets and then devoured by ravens and vultures…

One day the nazis picked up us suddenly and they brought us in the square of Lixouri, where they deployed 13 Greeks accused of being partisan. Those poor people were hunged under our eyes. It happened that one of them – because of a broken rope – fell to the ground. He was still alive. The Germans took him and hung him again… If at that moment I had been given a stab, I would release even a single drop of blood, so I was shocked.

In October 1944, Germans abandoned Kefalonia: they were moving to other fronts. We remained on the island for nearly a month, as forgotten people. We scanned the horizon, waiting for a ship. We wanted to end this terrible experience. Finally on November 13, the Garibaldi and Artigliere ships landed to Argostoli ‘s port. We embarked to Taranto, but to be back home I will have to wait till June 5, in 1945. The war stole me everything but the joy to be back home, as well as the inability to forget Kefalonia, the dead, the extermination, the ferocity.

No medal, no bonuses, even no official apology from the German State – apology always denied, but never officially requested by Italy – can never compensate what was removed to thousands of young people, to thousands of families. Inside me, in addition to horror, remains the strength to repeat that all this cannot longer occurs. Never again.

© Copyright Roberto Alborghetti


Central Database of Shoah Victims Names


About Italian Division “Acqui” and Kefalonia Slaughter


About Kefalonia I suggest you this WordPress Blog:




 The incredible story of a poet and theater director who is living together with the Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis.


Words that come from blinkings. Words that take life and form from the soul’s deepest places. Words that flow from pain and from days, months and years marked by a terrible disease, the ALS, Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. And this three letters word ironically and provocatively stands on the cover of a recent book by Roberto Fabbrini, edited by non-profit organization Osa and published by Fondazione Alberto Colonnetti. Its title is “Cantata in Sla Maggiore” (“Cantata in Major ALS”).

The book also collects the previous works that Roberto Fabbrini had published since 2006/2007: “Le ombre lunghe della sera” (“The evening’s long shadows”), “Controcanto” and “Il respiro degli angeli” (“The breath of the angels”) . The 256 pages tell – in the harsh, cruel, atrocious and vehement poetry language – the human journey of Roberto Fabbrini. Born and living in Abbadia San Salvatore (Siena, Italy), writer and theater director, lover of life and art, since 2004 Roberto is living together with ALS, a disease that attacks and destroys the motor neurons which determine the muscles movement. The book follows the same progressive “way” of Roberto, who at the beginning was still able to compose on the laptop keyboard, moving hands and fingers. Then, the progression of disability, up to total paralysis, pushes Roberto to communicate only with his eyes: special pc sensors “translate” blinkings in written words.

The eyes are the only body part that is resistant to paralysis. And the eyes become the filter, the special screen, from which Roberto’s life passes and flowes. Roberto is spectator and protagonist at the same time. A book, this one, that displaces us. It catches us off-balance. It throws us in the row of those thoughts inevitably ending in silence. Faced with searing poetry of Roberto Fabbrini – rooted in the devastation of a disease that takes away everything but the awareness and lucidity to be – there’s nothing to say, there is nothing to comment, there is nothing to whisper.

We only need the silence. The real, dark, deep, mysterious and deafening silence. The true silence, which is also expressed through the wonderful photos accompanying the poems; the images were taken by my fellow photographer Andrea Fabbrini (he’s Roberto son).

It’s only in the silence that we can hear Roberto Fabbrini’s cry. A chilling, hard, upsetting and poignant cry, which echoes from page to page. A cry that creates pain. A suffering voice that creates a “controcanto”. These are the thoughts that the great Italian author Andrea Camilleri wrote introducing “Controcanto” chapter: “I was really striked by the term “contro” (it means “against”, in Italian). In Roberto Fabbrini condition, being “against” could easily and perhaps naively be interpreted like to be “against” his illness, his misfortune, as poet Leopardi says. But the amazing thing it is that – thanks to this “against” – Roberto lyrically got rid of prisons of his body and he was able to draw, from this experience, a positive message for everyone. “

It’s true. Though he’s imprisoned in his ALS disease – relentless and inexorable disease – Roberto Fabbrini screams his humanity as a free man. A scream without a voice. A scream that has the lightness of an eyelid beat. A scream that leaves us stunned and, for this, even more conscious.

 Roberto Alborghetti

“CORRIERE DI SIENA” newspaper has published (Decembre 11, 2011) ROBERTO ALBORGHETTI’S article dedicated to ROBERTO FABBRINI ‘s POETRY

IL CORRIERE DI SIENA (11 dicembre) ha pubblicato l’articolo di Roberto Alborghetti dedicato a Roberto Fabbrini


 Parole che nascono da un battito di palpebre. Parole che prendono vita e forma nei mendri più profondi dell’anima. Parole che sgorgano dal dolore, dai giorni, dai mesi e dagli anni di una malattia, la SLA, sclerosi laterale amiotrofica. Ed è proprio alla SLA che queste parole si collegano, fin dal titolo – “Cantata in SLA Maggiore”- che campeggia ironicamente e serenamente provocatorio, sulla copertina di un recente volume di Roberto Fabbrini, curato da Osa Onlus ed edito dalla Fondazione Alberto Colonnetti. Un libro che raccoglie anche i precedenti volumi che Roberto Fabbrini aveva pubblicato a partire dal 2006/2007: “Le ombre lunghe della sera”, “Controcanto”, “Il respiro degli angeli”.

Le 256 pagine raccontano, con il linguaggio della poesia – cruda, crudele, atroce e veemente – l’itinerario umano di Roberto Fabbrini. Originario e residente ad Abbadia San Salvatore (Siena), scrittore e regista teatrale, innamorato della vita e dell’arte, Roberto dal 2004 convive con la SLA, malattia che aggredisce e distrugge i motoneuroni che determinano il movimento dei nostri muscoli. Il volume segue progressivamente lo stesso “cammino” di Roberto, che all’inizio riesce ancora a comporre sulla tastiera del computer, muovendo mani e dita. Poi, la progressione dell’infermità, fino alla totale paralisi, spinge Roberto a comunicare solo con lo sguardo, percepito dai particolari sensori di un pc che “traducono” in parole scritte i battiti delle sue palpebre. Gli occhi sono l’unica parte del corpo che resiste alla paralisi. E gli occhi diventano il filtro, lo schermo speciale, da cui passa e transita la vita di Roberto, spettatore e protagonista allo stesso tempo.

Un libro, questo, che spiazza, che prende in contropiede, che scaraventa nel girone di quei pensieri che inevitabilmente si concludono nel silenzio. Di fronte alla lancinante poesia di Roberto Fabbrini – radicata nella devastazione di una malattia che toglie tutto, ma non la consapevolezza e la lucidità di essere – non c’è nulla da dire, non c’è nulla da commentare, non c’è nulla da sussurrare.

Serve solo il silenzio, quello vero, cupo, profondo, misterioso e assordante, come è solo il vero silenzio: lo esprimono anche le stupende fotografie che accompagnano le composizioni poetiche, immagini fotografiche scattate dall’amico Andrea Fabbrini, figlio di Roberto. Ed è solo nel silenzio che possiamo udire il grido di Roberto Fabbrini: risuona di pagina in pagina, agghiacciante, duro, sconvolgente e struggente. Un grido che è dolore e crea dolore. Un grido che si fa canto e controcanto, appunto. Giungono a proposito le parole dello scrittore Andrea Camilleri che nella prefazione a “Controcanto” scrive: “Questo “Controcanto” mi ha veramente colpito. Mi ha colpito proprio il “contro”. Nelle sue condizioni il contro potrebbe facilmente e forse ingenuamente essere interpretato come un “contro” verso la sua malattia, la sua sfortuna alla Leopardi, diciamo. Invece la cosa sorprendente è proprio che grazie a questo “contro” si è riuscito a sbarazzare liricamente delle sue prigioni corporee ed è riuscito a trarre da questa esperienza un messaggio positivo per tutti.”

E’ vero: pur imprigionato nella malattia – una malattia implacabile ed inesorabile – Roberto Fabbrini urla la sua umanità di uomo libero. Un urlo senza voce. Un urlo che ha la levità di un battito di palpebre. Un urlo che ci lascia attoniti e, proprio per questo, anche più coscienti.

 Roberto Alborghetti

 Se vuoi, puoi lasciare il tuo messaggio per Roberto Fabbrini.




Italian newspaper “L’Eco di Bergamo” reports about Roberto Alborghetti’s Lacer/actions. The attention is focused on “9/11 artwork” – dedicated to the Fallen in the WTC massacre – and on the article that has been posted at “The Huffington Post” by Srini Pillay, Psychiatrist, Harvard clinician, brain-imaging researcher, executive couch and author of “Life Unlocked”, “Your Brain and Business: the Neuroscience of the great leaders”, “The Science behind The Law of Attraction”.

 FROM “L’ECO DI BERGAMO” ( Italian version)

The Huffington Post, il prestigioso blog americano per il quale ha scritto anche il presidente Obama, dedica un articolo al bergamasco Roberto Alborghetti , per il suo lavoro artistico dedicato all’11 settembre, che il prossimo ottobre sarà esposto a Londra alla Parallax Art fair alla Royal Opera Arcade.

 Chi gli dedica un lungo articolo è Srinivasan Pillay, psichiatra, docente ad Harvard ed esperto di brain imaging che si è dedicato allo studio delle conseguenze dei traumi post attacchi terroristici. Alborghetti, poliedrico operatore mediatico e organizzatore culturale, un paio d’anni fa ha cominciato a fotografare per hobby gli strappi sovrapposti dei manifesti urbani, ricavandone immagini astratte di notevole suggestione con le quali ha composto gallerie virtuali.

 I suoi lavori hanno attirato l’attenzione di molti frequentatori di internet, fra i quali Pillay che ha contatttato Alborghetti via email per conoscere meglio, racconta il luminare nel suo blog sull’Huffington Post, l’autore e le motivazioni del suo lavoro. In particolare Pillay è rimasto colpito dal lavoro dedicato all’11 settembre, uno scatto realizzato in via Giambattista Vico a Milano, un resto di manifesto elettorale dai colori cupi che ricordano braccia, fiamme e idranti.

 L’opera, fra l’altro è stata trasposta su tela e anche su seta, in collaborazione con Bruno Boggia, artista serico e consulente di griffe internazionali. Anche la sciarpa sarà esposta a Londra e donata per beneficienza all’Associazione dei familiari delle vittime dell’11 settembre.

 Pillay ha scoperto i lavori di Roberto riuniti sotto il nome collettivo di “Lacer/azioni” navigando durante le ore di attesa in aeroporto. Ne è nato un colloquio a distanza che è diventato occasione per una riflessione sul ruolo dell’arte e della bellezza come reazione al male e al dolore e che ha ispirato l’articolo «9/11. Remembering a tragedy through art», 9/11. Ricordare una tragedia attraverso l’arte.

 Ecco il link dell’articolo: