Matter and spirit – how can the two coexist?

I am surrounded by statutes. One seems slightly removed from the rest, pensive, calm. One is showing the effects of time on its rocky skin yet wears it with dignity. Yet another – surrounded by pampas grass, which stand out for their flowers’ shape – is tilting its head to the side. I wonder – if you tilt your head to the side, are you empathetic or simply coquettish? The garden also boasts two twin statutes, each facing a direction – north and south. Do they share one single soul? Conjoined twins with one conscience. It appears they are struggling to breathe – is the presence of the divine too much to bear, or are they simply playing pretend, blowing away strands of hair in the wind? A statue resembling the Greek God Hermes, a kouros (the modern term given to free-standing Ancient Greek sculptures that depict nude male youths, TN), albeit a more rigid version. Another statue gazes towards the pool. The statues in the garden of our hotel, the Posta Marcucci, look as though they feel at home. They seem to perceive the energy of the thermal waters, which come forth from the depths of the earth.

Works of art in our garden – what a treat! They are the result of hard-working hands belonging to a child who became a coal merchant, and then a stonecutter, bricklayer, creator. His hands breathe life into things and shape them.

Romualdo is a poet, a man bursting with enthusiasm and entheos, that inner, divine spark we call inspiration.

You probably do not know who he is. Look him up, for he is a true master of his craft – in his hands, art is a thing of spontaneity, a wild, fearless force which, just like impetuous and untameable water, can wash away everything and slip into an eternal cycle.

Water. Our planet is made up mostly of water, we were born out of the ocean – fish evolved into land bipeds. 380 million of years have passed since the moment the first egg cell was fertilised, two fish mated, et voila, diversity started its beautiful journey to our modern times. Before then, only (or virtually only) asexual life existed. Without diversity, we would have all been the same, identical egg cells, without an iota of identity.

Diversity which then becomes the norm – a trend which is being upheld not too far away, in Brussels.

Romualdo became guardian of the Ermicciolo spring in 1960 – it is a key spring, for it gives Siena its water.

1960 seems so far away, yet so many things occurred back then: Fausto Coppi, Olivetti, Malcom X died; someone drilled a hole into the core of Mont Blanc; the Italian government led by Tambroni attempted to bring fascism back into power. Everything is a cycle, and nothing truly dies. As the harsh but accurate analysis by Leonardo Sciascia reminds us, “a dead idea produces more fanaticism of an idea that is still around. Truth be told, only dead ideas do that. That is why we like martyrs. Because stupid people, like crows, only have eyes for dead things.”

Romualdo’s art is sweet, genuine, and alive, and the man was the guardian of the Tuscan spring until 1933, a good 33 years. A life of devotion, and people knew that when he rang the bell in the middle of the night, all was good 10 km upstream, because Romualdo was there.

He had herculean hands with which he sculpted figures instilled with an infinite grace, breathing life into inanimate objects. He transformed lifeless stone into breathing and living people.

These rocky figures are a reminder that life, yes, has and always will be difficult. As Demetrius the Cynic said, “nothing seems to me more unhappy than the man whom no misfortune has ever befallen”.

At the end of the day, life is being able to shape the impossible. Maestro Romualdo captured the quintessence of objects and brought them to life. His works are a sight to behold in our garden.

Everything changes, we are all part of this world in constant change – even these beautiful statues that now grace our garden.

Thank you, Maestro, for having involved us, and helped us get to know each other better and be open to far-reaching dialogue thanks to your works of art.

By meeting, we start a relation with other people – and art creates a bridge between what changes by nature and that which never changes, between life and matter. We are trying to give sense to life which is matter and spirit, form and change.

Life, per se, makes no sense – only the one we give to it.

We are blessed to have these works in our Casa, and they will help us find the joy of living and faith in humanity.

And we all need a bit of that, just like any wanderer in a desert needs a bit of water to make it out.

May we all have a splendid August!

Michil Costa