Cango, Florence
December 11, 2025
A motionless being breathes loudly, slowly and with some difficulty as if it was trapped, injured and unable to move. It looks like a marine creature from the depths of the ocean, or maybe a mermaid, or perhaps another form of living entity entirely. How ever viewed, there is mystery in the form of Chiara Bersani’s body which is different yet recognisable, depleted yet alive.
Curiosity and awe arise while observing this being who appears to be suffering in its own stillness, struggling to get out from an invisible yet perceivable restriction. Long hair, a dress which looks like it’s made of fish flakes. Long arms, short legs and small feet. The sound of its breath increases, as does the movement, which is also visible in two projections. To the right, beamed onto the wall, we see the fin-like movement of one arm. At the back of the stage, little pale blue lights are reflected on a white drape and move with Bersani’s every breath, appearing as ripples twinkling on the ocean’s surface.
The silhouette enveloped by the glittering flakes shines, giving the character a sibylline presence. Her rare body is engrossing. Maybe we are witnessing a manifestation, or perhaps some sort of surreal metamorphosis is taking place. Slowly and uneasily, as she tries to liberate herself, she struggles onto a little pedestal which appears as an isolated iceberg in a cold sea.
At least partially liberated, she then descends from the structure and slowly walks around it, not losing touch with it. Is it a snare or a place of refuge?
“Wait” is said repeatedly, loudly and softly, the tone of voice shifting from strident to defenceless and desperate before it fades away. Bersani uses her hands as a way to capture the attention of those who might see her but not hear her. The beautifully performed scene is poignant, her voice powerful and moving.
It’s impossible not to feel compassion as Bersani embodies the way in which many in this world are left behind, trapped, unseen, mistreated, neglected, tortured and killed; and that, one way or another, are asking vainly for help. The picture combines resilience and faith with despair and resignation.
It’s impossible not to see the performance as a direct denunciation of the ones who turn their faces away from the struggle, and the reality of those unheard, unseen, unwanted.
L’Animale is a powerful work that takes place in a moment when it is necessary more than ever to stand up and take action. Bersani certainly displays both courage and determination, in this performance and in everyday life where she champions freedom of existence and expression.
Nature creates, transforms and destroys as part of its natural cycle. Too often, I feel humankind is marked by greed and arrogance, control and manipulation, however. I read Bersani’s L’Animale as a delicate yet clear statement against that. The message is straightforward. Do not leave anyone behind. Do not forget who needs help. That outlook is emphasised as the performance ends with her leaving the stage to the Palestinian keffiyeh carefully and gently laid down on the icy, isolated pedestal.