… an appendix whispered by the Director as a note in the margin or footnote.
Regardless of the detractors, a year from our first issue has already passed thanks to you readers. Whether this is more of an alliteration or a rhyming couplet I cannot say, as unvarnished grammar has never been my forte. I’d prefer it to be the latter, because as someone once said: “alliterations are manna for morons”. However, I would have a lot to say about kisses, even if this grammatical oyster continues to oppose me even today.
On this anniversary of our magazine, we start off once again with our usual dose of recklessness; and if there is something brilliant about it, it is – we assure you – a self-mocking laugh at ourselves. Despite and thanks to this we are still here, still buck naked and yet – we hope – still mysterious.
After all, mysteries are Cyrano de Bergeracs to us, they reach our ears covered by a veil of blindness over our own eyes.
The fact that, right from its name, La Livella Magazine is an entangled symbolic mystery may perhaps be clear to some; whereas for others – those who interest us most as they may become future friends of ours – a small codicil might be useful. An appendix whispered by the Director as a note in the margin or footnote – made ‘at the foot of the page’ but, hopefully not ‘botched’.
Is, of course, a well-known poem by Antonio de Curtis, but it is also in itself a curious compound formed by the repetition of certain letters, and their very spelling. L’, ‘V’, ‘A’, are alphabetical signs that have a lot in common. If we were to indulge in a petit divertissement at this point – a game of shapes – it would be enough to add or move a small line here and there to make these letters become: ◺∇∆. Plus, strangely, a coincidence can be found in our symbol ( :. ) since it too become ◺. As a result, we suddenly find ourselves scrambling triangles! The main ones in this beautiful word of ours are ∇∆, where the former points downward, to the Earth, to materiality and to the womb that contains creation. The latter, on the other hand, recalls a phallic shape – take my word for it – and points upwards, toward the sky, towards tension and thus spirituality. As we continue our game, what do you reckon would happen if we tried to join these two triangles? Well, an ancient symbol appears: ✡︎
Embarking now on a journey into the symbolic world of Solomon would put us in terrible straits, and for this reason we willingly leave this erudite and apprenticed task to those who know far more about it than we do. For our part, we will put an end to our observation, at the union of our two symbols of the feminine principle and the masculine principle: of the high and the low, of the interpenetration of opposites. We will therefore stop – and forgive us if this is not enough – at the equilibrium of the united duality of the Whole.
Coming back to a more grounded fact, la livella (i.e., the level) also happens to be a tool used to measure the balance of something in relation to the Zenith, and in this way, we have closed the circle – or squared it?
We have returned to the starting point, and we are satisfied to say that we have, in some way, created a sense of complete harmony. We are well aware that in different times and milieus these symbols were used for similar or different purposes, sameness or otherwise; but forgive us for having attempted to stage, as in biblical Genesis, the human act of nomenclature. After all, as stated above: think of it as a light divertissement.
After returning to the ‘start’, all that is left is to ask ourselves: what will tomorrow have in store for our little magazine?
We have realised – and you will say “it’s pretty obvious” – that in some ways this pandemic has helped us.
It has given us time and readers who are less distracted by the hectic course of life, who are more isolated and receptive, more inclined to tranquillity and contemplation. However – to some extent fortunately – things are changing, and things seem to be returning to ‘normality’. It is, therefore, time to face a new reality for this project that was conceived in such peculiar times. We will do so in our usual way: by studying, training, educating ourselves and measuring ourselves against what surrounds us, always trying to maintain our own “permanent centre of gravity”, which will protect us from the risk of being dragged here and there by the urgencies of the moment, by the superficiality of prêt-à-porter thinking. We will bring the art we encounter around us to our pages, and we will always be happy to host any fine pen that will want to write with us for you. Like ancient priests, we throw our thoughts into the brazier of the temple of culture, trying as much as we can to keep the flame burning high and alive. On this path, however, one thing is clear to us, and engraved in our minds: we can only improve if we know how to approach those who are better than us.