Bringing back the terrible years of the Second World War. But only at the theater! And a few tens of meters deep. There, in the basement of Naples, makeshift stage of a tragedy really lived on his own skin, more than half a century ago, thousands and thousands of Neapolitans. NarteA Cultural Association presents “We Live”, a new touring show, directed by Febo Quercia (artistic director of NarteA) and Antimo Casertano, specifically made to catapult the guests in a particular historical moment that will revive (Saturday, March 15) the dramatic era of terrifying conflict. Almost a time machine that will hurl the visitor in the months preceding the “Four Days of Naples”. A snapshot of the events of 1942-43 “set” in the enchanting surroundings of the Borbone’s Gallery.
Those who come back into vogue, in the traveling show staged by NarteA are the years in which it was the metropolis of the Gulf of Allied bombers prey: hawks steel that vaguely opposed by hunting and anti- Italian, poured from the sky tons and tons of bombs on houses, factories and port facilities in Partenope.
In those moments increases the anxiety, fear takes possession of the citizens. The hiss that make the bombs when swooping to the ground by thousands and thousands of meters high explosives is deadly: the death falls from the sky like a scythe left. Is a moment, wherever you feel the bombs explode. Collapsing buildings, buildings that crumble like a house of cards, in a cloud of dust and debris: debris obstruct streets and alleys.
No time to think! You have to escape quickly collect in a shroud things more “useful” and find refuge in the only place in the whole city where you can still save: the belly of Partenope, tunnels and caves dug into the bowels of the ancient colony tuff greek -roman. And then you run. There seems to be pushed and descend underground. The row to escape the bombing appears endless. Everyone is trying to cling to the womb of Naples “below”: the cavity tuff, once used as water tanks, today transformed into bomb shelters. Now this seems to be the only place where the hope of not losing your breath might stay on.
The dim light bulbs to 12 volts are those of the shelter, but barely illuminate the faces of the displaced. Tired and cold you look for a blanket, a relief, a look or a familiar face. A moment and the siren sounds again, the fear is back, time has no hands, day and night are confused. Then comes the need to create a “new” everyday life, to feel human again! Over time, the bombings have deleted everything, but not the memory and hope to rise to the surface to shout to the heavens and the actors of the absurd War: “We Live “!.