Ex Libris 2007: Little Red Riding Hood

Details: Published: 01 May 2015

Once upon a time...

In the early post-war years, when there was no television let alone computers, children used to be told fairy tales, usually after tea, before going to bed. Particularly skilled in the art of storytelling were grandparents, whose stories called fole, or fables in the local dialect where I come from (the plain of the River Po in Veneto), but also, as far as I know, in other places in the ‘boot’ - drew on popular traditions. So on winter nights sat around a roaring fire, or on summer evenings looking out over a red sunset, grandad would tell his fole: They were not the fairy tales of Perrault, or those of the Brothers Grimm, or even of Andersen. But they had an age-old, homely flavour, and though they were always the same, every evening some new detail would be added to the detriment of others that would be forgotten.

In this way, grandad’s fole had the feel of a rustic Commedia of the art, the form of theatre in which improvisation and invention prevails over the narrative plot, and unlikely characters enter on stage and exit depending on the whims of the storyteller. Then we would go off to bed, leaving just a tuft of hair exposed, dreading the arrival of the big bad wolf or the mysterious mago Carigù. Luckily, we were so tired after all the games and running around during the day that after a few seconds we would fall asleep nonetheless.

There were also books of fairy tales in large print, with illustrations for children who were still too young to read. But the most sought-after fairy tale albums (that is what they were called) were those that with each turn of the page unveiled an array of colours, characters, castles, meadows, mountains and fields. These would stand up on the page, becoming three-dimensional with refined fold, overlay and inlay effects, only to go back into hiding when the page was turned again to make room for the next picture: paper architecture,an art known as pop-up today.

What would have become of fables, whether famous or otherwise, if there had been no grandparents passing them on to generation after generation of grandchildren?

Would they have continued to have success without the illustrations, the paper architecture, the cinema, dance and theatre, and the multimediality of today? One depends on the other, and they are all inseparably part of the fola. Could Ex Libris be any different? Certainly not. So repeating an event - in our case, a competition in which the leading roles are played by fairy tales and Ex Libris gives a new lease of life to the alliance between fables and art, between books and Ex Libris. This gives a sense of meaning to the Enchanted Wood Prize, which - year after year - present artists with new fairy tales to interpret through their works. And when we see these works spread out on a table, hanging on a wall, or in a publication, it is like going back to being a child again in front of a roaring fire, enchanted by the paper architecture and grandad’s voice telling story… after story… after story…

But don’t let me bore you any more, or send you to sleep. What is important is that - in the end - they all lived happily ever after

Cristiano Beccaletto