Castel Sant’Angelo
Where archangel’s blade glints above the ramparts
Where copious mouths evince the same fabrication
As Nietzsche wrote, “We have art so that we shall not die of the truth.”
And in Rome, we have this stone mouth.
It does not judge, nor bite, nor speak.
Yet pilgrims of the camera gather,
hands outstretched not in reverence, but in performance.
What, then, does this say about us, about our hunger for spectacle over substance?
What made Bocche di verità special?
The fable,
the aesthetic,
or the film?
Everyone finds their own answer, mine carried out inside this gallery.