The Universe of Little Things

Voice over 1
There is a place beyond time where tiny particles gave rise to “the Everything”.

Those particles were brought to life by a vital spark which they still posses to this
very day.

Tiny particles, the “little things”. Those “molecules of ourselves” as writer Fanny
Fern would say, who also thought about them up to a point where she asked
herself what gives them so much power? How can a thing so small have such a
power compared to the magnitude of the universe?

Perhaps the source lies in the emotions related to them, like pieces creating a soul.
A soul from which our contemporary and guilty world shies away. Away from that
pragmatism it relies on from a very young age.

And just like the child in Pascoli’s novel or the best artist for Picasso, the child
represents the link between us and that oversensitive world dominated by
emotions which characterises the Fifth Dimension that is existing but elusive.

And just like that, the most common object to a child by definition, at any time and
any place - “the doll” - becomes the idol and the simulacrum of that vital spark
belonging to the world: the soul.

The doll, like every other being, needs to be taken care of. Therefore, there is a
place where someone can take care of the tangible forms of “the little things”.

It’s the Hospital of the Dolls, at Palazzo Marigliano, right in the heart of Naples.

Intervista 1

I’m Tiziana Grassi, chief of the Hospital of the Dolls in Naples.

This hospital was founded at the end of the 1800s by my great grandfather who
was in charge of the scenography for the Puppets’ Theatre.

In this little shop in Via San Biagio Dei Librai 81, he used to draw on paper. It was
narrow but long and he used to stick the paper to the wall so that he could paint
them and create different sets.

Sometimes he had to fix some puppets, so every once in a while he dismantled

them by the head, because Puppets can be dissembled, just an arm or a leg. And
to paint them he used to hang them here and there. This immediately reminded the
neighbourhood of the dolls of that time, because back in the 1800s dolls were
made out of wood, with joints and have various pieces.

Whereby, a woman came to the shop asking him “please, doctor…” because he
used to wear a white lab coat just so he didn’t stain his clothes. “Please, doctor
could you do something to save my doll?”. Back in the days there were a lot of
economic difficulties, so he said: “Yes, I will give it a try”.

This doll got back to its previous and wonderful state, so the word got around and
dolls began to come in and out of this little strange shop.

As you can imagine the bodies, the arms, they have rounded shapes so if you put
them somewhere they tend to roll. Therefore, he came up with the idea of using a
string that went from one wall to the other and began to hang all the parts to the
hooks.

A woman of the neighbourhood passing in front of the shop looked inside and said
(in Neapolitan): oh my god, that’s creepy! This place looks just like an hospital for
dolls!

Voice over 2

Why does a doll, whether it is made out of rag, pottery or else can gain so much
worth to our human existence?

Perhaps, as Pliny the Elder has taught us “natures is big in big things, but it is
bigger in smaller ones”.

Intervista 2

In my shop, one of the things that I have learned for sure is that dolls have souls.

Because as I always say… even when a repair is easy…there is not always an

immediate feeling of empathy between me and them.

Thus, each and every doll has a time in which I can take care of it…

What is inside of them is that they can teach you a lot of what has happened in the
life of the boy who owned it…or of the girl, or a woman if it was a gift from her
lover.

So, it conceals a lot of secrets.

But there is a story that holds a special place in my heart, the one about a man…
who crossed the threshold of my shop with this doll in his hands, a big one, all
dressed up in pink and kindly said to me “this is the doll I brought for my wife
when we got engaged…unfortunately I am a widower…but I would like to fix it,
because I know she would have done it herself”.

So I gave him an estimation and write down its diagnosis and he said “any price is
fine”.

Off he went. But when the time comes for me to see his doll…

We usually go like this:

We dismantle the doll, in case it has all the re-articulation tampered with, and…
when we opened it to clean the interior we found a piece of paper.

So first of all we tried to remove it because we thought that people are used to
stuff things inside their dolls.

Instead, a letter came out of it and we started reading it but at some point we
decided to not go further because we knew that we were trespassing some
boundaries. Something private.

So we decided to close it and keep it in an envelop so that we could give it to the

rightful owner once we had finished with the doll.



And that was it.

When he came back to pick the doll up, we gave him the doll which made him very
happy but then we gave him the letter…

He grabbed it and read it in silence, so we couldn’t understand what it was about

but we all saw teardrops in his eyes running down, copiously.

And he said: “I have to thank you, really. Because this is evidently a letter my wife
wrote to me when we were engaged but hadn’t had the courage to give it to me”.

So, it was a real love declaration.

I think that there’s a special thing my father used to say:



“Dolls have lost their dignity, let’s give it back to them”.

But…it’s true, because dolls in these last years have lost their dignity.

Because there is more behind every doll and the way we see it: as a tiny,
insignificant and inexpressive thing.

A doll is so much more, because…

It’s so much more when it is ignorant, because my father also called them ignorant.
Rather, when they started making mechanical dolls he used to say: “you know
what? Since we are unable to fix them, let’s make them ignorant”.

But why? And he said: “because it’s a shame that those dolls already know
everything. They already know how to speak, how to cry, smile and when to sleep.
So what about the child? What’s her role in all of this?”

I mean, the doll is so much more, just like us.

Because one way or another, since the beginning of time they exist, just like us…

Dolls are nothing more than our own mirrors, therefore, who we are and what we
are…we can only know it through a child.

Voice over 3

A place where love and memory are worth more than anything: that’s the Hospital
of the Dolls.

A temple where “little things” are given the wight of the existence.

It’s a place beyond time, a candle placed in the corner of a dark world, where
surrounded by darkness it is still possible to sit and read some poetry.

Eventuali sottotitoli per cartellonista

*Terapia Intensiva: Intensive Care

*Vestitura: Dressing