Italy. A landing place for immigrants, but at the same time quite the opposite.
A land to leave behind. Over 115,000 departures, in 2016 alone. Many young Italians leave to build a new life abroad, where they discover new impetus and shape new realities. But they take their origins with them, etched into their skin. They make them their own, they rework them and when they go home for a few days, their return has a different meaning. As in the case of Mario, his Virgin Mary and his blood.
“Tradition does not mean looking after the ashes, but keeping a flame alive” wrote Jean Jaures over a century ago, and Mario’s story is all of this: tradition, blood and intentions. Mario is 40 years old and twenty one years ago he left Nocera Terinese, his home town near Catanzaro in the southern Italian region of Calabria: a fortified town in the hills that lead down to the Tyrrhenian Sea. Now he lives in Portsmouth, a port city on the southern coast of England. There, Mario has two children and two jobs, because he has become a fully integrated and integral part of his new world: by day a workman and by night a pizza chef in his Italian restaurant. In addition, he cultivates a passion for body building that spans many years.
But every year, just before Easter, Mario returns to Nocera Terinese alone to dedicate his days of annual leave and his blood to a powerful creed that has always been with him and that, despite the distance, he has never forgotten. Mario discards his workman’s overalls, chef’s apron and even the clothes befitting a husband and father, and becomes a Vattiente. The Vattienti belong to an ancient and controversial rite of flagellantism. Dating back to 1600, stained with the blood shed intentionally by the devout for the Virgin Mary, the pratice is not approved of by the Catholic Church. Even so, the tradition is kept alive, with perserverence and love. The entire town is actively involved, closing itself off during the Easter period in order to perpetuate and defend its ritual, by now well known across the world and an attraction for many visitors.
A few days before Easter the preparations begin, uniting ancient medicine with age-old wisdom. Rosemary, wine, cork, glass, sparacogna (wild asparagus, in the local dialect): each of these elements has a role, to wound or to cauterize, to disinfect or to absorb. Mario, too, returns to the woods to gather what he needs, then he visits friends and relatives to receive the load of their offerings and prayers before returning to his own house and becoming a son once more. And then, like the Son of God, he faces pain and scourging. On Holy Saturday he leaves the house barefoot, standing before the people of the town, there in feverish anticipation: he holds in one hand the thistle, with thirteen pieces of glass embedded in it, the longest representing Judas Iscariot, and in the other the rose, a cork without glass that becomes impregnated with blood and serves as a stamp. Mario processes through the streets of his old life, the streets of his childhood, on bleeding legs, flogging himself for the Virgin, for his faith and for his loved ones. The thistle tears his skin and the rose soaks up the blood which Mario uses along his journey to stamp the houses of friends and relatives, prostrating himself both as a sign of respect and in an act of homage to their offerings and prayers.
Mario has been away for 21 years, but Mario has returned. Behold the man.
And on his path Mario finally sees again, processing alongside the ritual, Our Lady of Sorrows, a real being for Nocera Terinese, with whom the Vattiente has an intimate, secret dialogue. It is the same Pietà that Mario has tattooed on his back, below the muscles that like his wounded flesh are regenerated in training session after training session, in the gym, late at night, far away in England.
Tradition is keeping a flame alive, but also keeping a wound open. Because there are wounds that must not heal immediately, blood that must not congeal quickly but that must flow freely to pursue an intention and to purify. And there are wounds to the soul; a tear that cannot be resewn, the lesion created by abandoning one’s own land to begin an adventure in another country while remaining inextricably tied to one’s origins.
And this bond is unbreakable, in spite of how it may seem.
At the end of his ritual, Mario shaves his beard, sheds the garments of the Vattienti and, like a superhero, returns to being simply a man. He says goodbye to his family, boards a plane and goes back to England, carrying those wounds on his legs and, in his soul, the scars of a lifetime.
Portsmouth, UK. Mario is 40 years old and twenty one years ago he left Nocera Terinese, his home town near Catanzaro in the southern Italian region of Calabria. Now he lives in Portsmouth, on the southern coast of England.
Mario’s child, looking through the glass in their house in Portsmouth. During two decades in England as an immigrant, Mario worked hard and now he has his own family, with his English wife and two children who speak both English and Italian.
Mario’s kids playing in the backyard of their house in Portsmouth. Mario spends as much time as possibile with his kids, playing with them and enjoying everything that Portsmouth can offer.
Mario is a devout for the Virgin Mary. On his back he has tattooed Our Lady of Sorrow, the Pietà hold in a church in Nocera Terinese, with whom he has an intimate, secret dialogue.
In Portsmouth Mario has two jobs: by day a workman and by night a chef in his Italian restaurant.
Mario at his daytime job in the factory.
Mario at his night time job as a chef in his Italian restaurant.
At his restaurant Mario has to be a chef, a waiter and a business man taking care of his clients, all at the same time.
Mario chatting with some local clients at his Italian restaurant. Living as an immigrant can be tough at the beginning, but after many years of hard work Mario has become a fully integrated and integral part of his new world.
Mario working at the restaurant. His life is frenetic, with his two jobs, the family life and his passions.
Mario’s car. Everyday Mario has this hero keyring and a rosary with a cross as companions of his journeys.
Mario at the gym at night. He cultivates a passion for body building that spans many years.
Mario at the gym. Training session after training session, his muscles are regenerated, just like the wounds in his flesh and in his soul.
The imposing Crucifix of a church near Mario's house.
Mario spending some time with his kids in his House in Portsmouth during the weekend.
Mario's daughter plays with fidget spinner in her father's car.
Mario spending some time with his kids on the hills of Portsmouth during the weekend.
Mario and his Italian friend during a video call with their friends in Nocera Terinese.
Mario taking a break with his colleagues at Gigatronix.
Mario posing as a superhero in an amusement park.
Mario makes a non-alcoholic toast with his friends. He does not drink any kind of alcohol.
Mario and his son taking some wood in a superstore. They will build a wooden house with it.
Mario spending some time with his children in front of his house in Portsmouth over the weekend.
Mario training at Portsmouth harbour.
Nocera Terinese, Italy. The Vattienti belong to an ancient and controversial rite of flagellantism. Dating back to 1600, stained with the blood shed intentionally by the devout for the Virgin Mary, the practice is not approved of by the Catholic Church.
Our Lady of Sorrows processing in Nocera Terinese. This Pietà is a real being for the city, with whom the Vattiente has an intimate, secret dialogue. It is the same Pietà that Mario has tattooed on his back and eventually now he can meet it.
Mario’s house in Nocera Terinese, Italy. A few days before Easter the preparations begin, uniting ancient medicine with age-old wisdom. Mario visits friends and relatives to receive the load of their offerings and prayers before returning to his own house and becoming a son once more.
Mario looking for 'sparacogna', a plant he will use to make a crown of thorns with is part of the Vattiente's traditional costume.
A horse stallion in a field, near the wood where Mario is looking for sparacogna
Mario and another Vattiente picking some rosemary that they will use to make an unguent. It will help the Vattienti to heal their wounds.
Mario at his parents' house making a crown of braided sparcogna.
Mario wearing his crown and checking if it is ready for the rite.
Adults, kids and old people arrive at Nocera Terinese after a nighttime procession starting from Castiglione Marittimo. The walk takes almost three hours.
Our Lady of Sorrow is taken out of the church for the first time. It is a very important moment for all the people taking part to the procession and the village stays in absolute silence.
Everyone in Nocera stays still and looks at the Virgin Mary coming out of the church. This part of the rite is very important for everyone, both adults and kids.
So many people take part to this processions that even authorities are involved.
Today is the day when the man become a Vattiente. But first Mario has breakfast with his mother.
For the first time this year Mario can see Our Lady of Sorrow, out of the church. This is a very important and emotional moment for him.
Mario alone in warehouse takes a minute's silence and concentrates before becoming a Vattiente.
During the rite, Mario holds in one hand the thistle, with thirteen pieces of glass embedded in it, the longest representing Judas Iscariot, and in the other the rose, a cork without glass that becomes impregnated with blood and serves as a stamp.
People looking at the Vattienti getting dressed with admiration and curiosity.
Mario wearing the 'mannile', a black tissue that he will wear during the rite. The crown of sparacogna will be laid upon it.
Mario greeting friends and relatives before the rite.
Eventually Mario is in front of his Virgin Mary. His father beats his son's legs to expiate all the sins and deliver to Our Lady of Sorrow the load of offerings and prayers that friends and relatives entrusted him.
A fellow countryman looks at Mario flagellating his legs.
Mario and the Ecce Homo. The Vattiente and the Ecce Homo are jointed by a rope, since they both represent Christ.
One of the houses with the blood seals of the Vattiente. When a house has several seals from several Vattienti, those who live there can feel pride and honour.
Mario takes a break on the warehouse's terrace, after he healed his wounds with the rosemary's unguent.
Mario walking barefoot to his parent's house where he will have lunch with his friends and relatives.
Mario is back to England. The rite is over and he shaved his beard. The only things that last now are those wounds on his legs and, in his soul, the scars of a lifetime.