“An object becomes a ‘site of memory’ when a community invests it again it with its cherishing and emotions”
(Pierre Nora, Lieux de mémoire)
On October 10, 1965 our father, the artist from Ascoli Aldo Castelli, who belongs in some way – and we believe not undeservingly – to the collective history of a territorial identity extraordinarily rich of artistic expressions, died. A few weeks after our father's death, a beautiful exhibition of part of his works was set up at the Rosati gallery; the tribute to his memory was made more precious by the touching testimonials by the painter Ercolani (Il Messaggero, October 1965) and Mimì Vittori, who was at the time the director of the city library. Since then, no other form of acknowledgment was ever made.
Since the protection and valorization of the memory shared by a community requires the safeguard of what Pierre Nora called “sites of memory” (a monument, a piece of artwork, a prominent figure, a historical relic, a symbol, a museum, an archive, an institution, a historical event…) we would like to try saving from oblivion the work of a multi-faceted and rigorous artist who – despite having enjoyed a fair critical acclaim during his lifetime (and not only locally) – is today completely forgotten in his hometown. “An object becomes a place of memory when it escapes oblivion, for example by the placement of a commemorative plaque…” – or by the inauguration of a monument, or the naming of a public building (such options would require solemn celebratory rituals and complex institutional formalities, which would be ill-suited to a shy and reserved artist like our father was) or more simply by the publication of a monograph on said personality and the display of works of art that were offered as a gift to the city.
Unfortunately, in the imagination of many in the local community of Ascoli, the name of Aldo Castelli – a versatile and fruitful artist – could today be unpleasantly associated with a painting recklessly exhibited with great fanfare in October 2012 inside a public school’s premises, in the presence of some local notables, with a rather embarrassing ceremonial and organizational clumsiness bordering on farce. The promoters of the event gave rise (unknowingly, we hope) to furious polemics; and the legitimate questions that were raised about the intent of the initiative (what or who was meant to be celebrated, exactly?) found no sensible and plausible answers.
The painting, made on commission at the end of the 1930s, then relegated to the “scrap heap“ (with good reason, we believe) for the inevitable damnatio memoriae following the inauspicious two decades of Fascism, was resurrected with confused motivations and procedures barely within the scope of legality. The initiative – quite outlandish indeed – caused a unanimous outcry and had a very wide and unpleasant media resonance: as easily understandable, there are “sites of memory” that are difficult to access as they evoke a unresolved grief, loss and collective pain that one hasn’t had time to process yet.
On that occasion, even though we were not at all involved in the organization of the event, we were forced to face slanderous (and unfounded) accusations against our father and disconcerting insinuations (mostly anonymous) about our whole family. “Not without effort” (*) we were able to elaborate such painful experience (even in absence of the due apologies) and to somehow dismiss the intolerable slights and the clumsy way of handling the event without resorting – as was suggested by some people – to legal actions.
On the fiftieth anniversary of our father's death, we wonder if his work is considered today of so little value and significance to not even deserve a space, however modest, in the city's artistic and cultural history.
In 2000, on the occasion of the centenary of our father’s birth, the Corriere Adriatico republished some of his articles on Ascoli, and the administration made a commitment to publish a monograph, edited by Professor Papetti, director of the civic museums. The publication was to be financed by the Municipality, the Province, and the CARISAP Foundation, with the contribution of the Art Institute that provided the photographic reproduction of the works on high-resolution transparencies and prints (currently stored in the Institute’s safe). Right from the start, there were holdbacks, and in 2001 Il Resto del Carlino published an article in which our mother was expressing her profound disappointment at the failure to publish the monograph that had been in the works for over a year, with a large contribution of materials by our family and friends in support of the texts and for the iconic apparatus.
In the end, thanks to our mother’s tenacity, the project was carried out, up to near-completion of the graphic layout, which has been virtually ready to go to press for over seven years, but it seems that the funds necessary to cover the publishing costs were never found by the sponsors (meanwhile, over the same period of time, many other initiatives of various kinds – on whose relevance we do not intend to argue – were financed, but perhaps with a little goodwill the funds for that publication could also have been provided, for a projected cost that was certainly quite affordable). Incidentally, we understand that the designer who took care of the graphic project (and whose work is practically complete), was never even reimbursed for the cost incurred out of his own pocket for the digitalization of the images.
Between the end of 2007 and the beginning of 2008 our mother, already ill, had the ephemeral joy of seeing a draft of the monograph’s layout and of the cover design. Hoping for an imminent publication, moved by gratitude, in February 2008 she donated an early (circa 1925) self-portrait of our father to the Municipal Art Gallery; shortly before her death she received an official letter from Piero Celani, then mayor of Ascoli, offering his thanks “for the gift made to the City” as well as “the satisfaction expressed also by Professor Papetti for the new acquisition” and giving assurance that the “important painting made by your husband Aldo Castelli will be given a worthy placement alongside your husband’s works already present in the municipal collections.” After our mother’s death, in respect of her last wishes and prior agreements with Professor Papetti, two other oil paintings were handed over to a City representative: Landscape with Olive Trees (dated 1950) and a self-portrait from 1955, on the back of which is also a portrait of a “Girl With Her Arm in a Cast” (who knows, maybe a device to save money, often adopted also by his mentor Mussini, as painting canvas and primed wood were quite expensive).
A beautiful oil painting (Portrait of G. Condio, 1944), which had been donated by our mother in 1993 to the City’s Museum of Contemporary Art (replacing a lithograph already present in the municipal collection) was exhibited for some time, and then inexplicably removed.
Below are the paintings donated to the city by the Castelli heirs over a period of twenty years, all taken into the City’s charge with official records of delivery bearing the seal of the Municipality of Ascoli. Of those, only the first three are now occasionally visible at the City’s Museum of Contemporary Art “Osvaldo Licini” (and removed when more important events featuring more important artists are hosted in the Museum’s halls); the Landscape with Olive Trees has never been seen again in twenty years, with deep regret by the family and surely by many who appreciated this artist during his lifetime and after.
For two decades, it has not been possible to find the time to think of a “worthy collocation” for the paintings donated to the city, nor to send to press an already ready-for-print book. Someone might maliciously infer the suspicion that failure to honor commitments that were officially taken can be attributed to red tape hindrances, institutional inertia, logistic sloppiness, historical insensitivity, guilty neglect or simply lack of interest and disregard. Today, unfortunately, we cannot but favor this last hypothesis, despite the official thank-you note for the “gift to the city” that was given 20 years ago by then-mayor Piero Celani: unfortunately, the facts seem to unequivocally confirm the idea that these “gifts to the city” were not so welcome, and that one doesn’t know what to do with them….
If such is the case, the City administration would have only one option, that is, to return those gifts (perhaps considered insignificant, of little value and therefore not worthy of appearing next to the works by higher-rank artists), thus avoiding intolerable, continuous postponements that seem unjustified and specious. We will come to terms with it eventually, and we will seek other ways to share this little heritage with the folks in Ascoli who showed interest in this singular artist figure.
To celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of our father’s death, the Facebook community “Ascoli Piceno: la città di travertino” has given ample space for a sort of “virtual exhibition” that featured his works. We sincerely thank the animator of the FB group Piersandra Dragoni; our dear friend Erminia Tosti Luna, who has posted a beautiful article on our father’s activity as a ceramist; and all those who have followed the thread and made contributions and comments.
This website, which was born as a tribute of affection by us children to our father (a father of whom one can only be proud) also wants to be a catalyst agent for the launch of a place where we can build the memory of ALDO CASTELLI, an Ascolan artist from the early ’900s.
(*) RE: “shared memory”: for some of us, this motto perhaps will be reminiscent of one of the many inscriptions carved on the lintels of Ascoli’s ancient buildings’s doors… (see the article “Saggezza sugli architravi” on this site)
P.S. After nearly 15 years, the painting “Landscape with Olive Trees” has returned to my family. We sincerely thank Mayor Marco Fioravanti and Professor Papetti for reuniting us with this beloved work by our father.
