Journal Entry: 16th February 2022: Victoria Lucas

An industrial sprawl, which punctuates an agricultural plateau hemmed with jagged snowy mountains. Plumes of white vapour billow out of steel chimneys, visible against the grey horizon until they blend with the low lying clouds crouching on top of the peaks. The slow time of the mountains is revealed through undulating lines of strata, forming what look like large brush strokes of black ink on a craggy grey surface. Beautiful silent giants; known for their occasional turbulence. One is identified as the epicentre of the 1976 earthquakes, which devastated much of this region, including the factory. I think of the mountain as petulant, its sudden violent outburst a traumatic marker in the memories of those who lived it.

Pittini’s foundation champions social and cultural responsibility across the region. Local children are educated at the plant through specialised interactive school trips, in the hope that the community holds on to their young instead of losing them to the promise of big cities. The sense of community - of pride - is comforting and healthy. I feel closer to Sheffield’s industrial past as I walk down the corridors and through workshops - closer to what was also a community of steel workers - situated in and belonging to place and to each other, through their solidarity. How devastating it must have been when those factories closed.

The effort exerted by human bodies is how it began. Seams of Iron were extracted - luted - over centuries using rudimentary tools - weapons - deep within the heart of the earth. The region has been invaded and attacked with the aid of this material for centuries, given that it is so close to the country’s border. There has been so much discussion about rebirth, renewal, reconstruction. Using the devastation of war and natural disaster to build back better and stronger, while learning more about the very fabric of place and what came before. Pittini began his business by recycling the detritus left behind by the first and second world wars… melting down the tools of violence and repurposing it in to building materials for the surrounding villages and towns. This reclamation of matter reflects the ingenuity and fastidiousness of the region. Out of destruction comes an opportunity for transformation. A piece of shrapnel, a building, a village, a community. All reformed using energy and slow time.

Venzone was shattered by the earthquakes of 1976. A national monument, this medieval village had been professionally documented prior to the devastation that struck its walls, meaning they had the means of reconstructing each building exactly as it was before. Each stone scattered across the area was organised and positioned in separate storage areas - fields full of stones that once made up walls and arches. Every single stone was positioned in the same order, to the millimetre, a job that took 10 years to complete. Layers of history are revealed through their arrangement forming a palimpsest, dismantled and respectfully restored with the knowledge that one day it will fall again. These markers of the tragedy are not solemn acts of remembrance, but are reminders of the future to come.