What does “private” mean?
Thomas De Falco chose the Masseria Torre Coccaro (in the province of Brindisi) for his “PRIVATE TDF”, a performance staged on 23 and 24 April.


Is the body private?
Given the collective-identity combination, “SOLO” and “WAITING” were two perfect moments for reflection. By contrast, the first was a choral performance that took place in the mill of the Masseria, the second one was an intimate sharing on the beach.

PRIVATE TDF, THOMAS DE FALCO, MASSERIA TORRE COCCARO, ELOISA REVERIE VEZZOSI

Escaping from reality, Jem, Mercedes, the audience and I have experienced the artist’s “big dream”.  As I usually like to say, no one perceived the passing of time. The dream state implies the luxury of timelessness. 
Inside an ash-white colored cave, the sculptures and the research works by Thomas were placed in a specific location. Down the stairs, at the entrance to the right the tapestry-scale project (realized for the next edition of the Biennale of Venezia): from there everything else followed. With the accompaniment of three string instruments that alternated moments of allegro, andante and silence.

PRIVATE TDF, THOMAS DE FALCO, MASSERIA TORRE COCCARO, ELOISA REVERIE VEZZOSI
I wore a wedding dress for twenty-four hours.
 White stockings, flat shoes, no bra. I wore a white wrapping in the hair and a pair of delicate gloves. Down the stairs, in the middle of the first room a huge table covered with a white cloth appeared before the eyes of the spectators, set with a cone of salt and flour connected by a red thread to a ball of twine, white again. I obsessively opened, shown, beaten, closed, lived the book of research on Rome and dedicated to Ara Pacis project, the next stage work that Thomas De Falco will realize at the end of May. I showed the imminent future. Why should I be cold?

It was not love.
 Two dark bodies on a light background stood out in the shadow.
It was not a couple. It was an illusion. It was a “big dream”. It was a “big separation”. It represented the idea of a cold relationship, with no communication, of a non-dialog. The textile art of Thomas De Falco wound from the woman’s hair, enclosed in a huge cocoon. The wrapping descended on her bare and perfect skin. The roots of wool, raw silk, fabrics got off again new from the floor and went up along the fingers, hands, the man’s genital organ. The chains of nodes of the contemporary tapestry united for the first time to the skin, the blood and sexuality of us men.

PRIVATE TDF, THOMAS DE FALCO, MASSERIA TORRE COCCARO, ELOISA REVERIE VEZZOSI

I got stripped of my virginal white dress with a small trace of red.

Art bride, waiting anxiously the moment of the encounter.
I knew that we would have met by the sea, in the wind, the storm; at the sight of Apollo, god of the sun.
I have this physical relationship only with art. Thomas De Falco knows that, and I am grateful for his understanding.


PRIVATE TDF, THOMAS DE FALCO, MASSERIA TORRE COCCARO, ELOISA REVERIE VEZZOSI

He chose my right arm to create a graft that did not include natural elements except the tissues of my body (unlike the one dedicated to Penone of “RED” at the Museo Marino Marini). 
It was caught in a vise. I saw my shoulder free to branch, grow a refined and rough cloth. I had already been dressed in white, or with my feet turned into roots, or with my hair gathered in textile sculptures again and again, but never my hands had joined to land this way. New Daphne, I carried on my shoulders the weight of classical mythology and classic iconography, but I could not bend over not to literary forces or to natural ones because I had to follow the artist’s imprint: “rule over the earth.”

I cried.
I sweated.

To take-shape is cathartic process.
The sea at my feet, the earth to my hands. The stormy sky above me, “the moral law within me.”
I trembled.
I closed my eyes and I’ve never seen black, only colors and spots alternately. 

Purification is a private moment? The play for a citizen of Ancient Greece was a collective event and staging of public affairs. Those of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides were tragedies mirror of the polis. Those of Thomas De Falco are performances that represent their legacy.

PRIVATE TDF, THOMAS DE FALCO, MASSERIA TORRE COCCARO, ELOISA REVERIE VEZZOSI
The body is private? The shape is not at all.
Removed the towel, I moved my feet into the wild land; I reached my position in front of the curtain of towels, wrapping and gold interventions. I must confess I have felt the indiscretion of the glances by the three technicians present at the rehearsal, but then I repeated in my head the following words: “My body is not anything different from yours.”
We – we choral – closed our eyes, shrugged, showed proudly the lush right arm.
We took new shape, purifying ourselves.
It was a total rebirth, and not just simple figuration for “Birth of Venus.”


Who is then the “private” subject? He who does not want to see, do notwant to talk, do not want to hear.PRIVATE TDF, THOMAS DE FALCO, MASSERIA TORRE COCCARO, ELOISA REVERIE VEZZOSI

Credits:
Special Thanks to Laura Cherubini, Elisabetta Genoni, Rossana Muolo, Cecilia Signaroldi
Photo: Tassili Calatroni