Archiving Encounters is a series dedicated to the exploration of archives in contemporary art practices. In the last article, we started to explore curatorial practices that deal with archiving, Karen Watson and Jonathan Orlek collaborated to bring to life an exhibition of archival materials, which meant practising the archive: building and sharing knowledge to create new meanings by juxtaposing objects, relationships and time. For this issue, the editor of this column, Benedetta d’Ettorre invited a contribution by Nicola Nitido, curator of In-ruins, to reflect on his curatorial approach for this residency project. His curatorial approach to In-ruins has evolved from a philological framework of research and interpretation into a broader meta-archaeological methodology. This approach invites diving into the archival strata of archaeological sites, where artistic practice operates as a tool for navigating, activating, and producing meaning.
Founded in Calabria in 2018 and promoted by Associazione Archeofuturo, In-ruins is a nomadic residency program dedicated to exploring the encounter between contemporary art and archaeology. Through the temporary settlement of artists, curators, and researchers near monumental sites in Southern Italy, In-ruins reimagines the territory starting from its past. In the heart of peripheral contexts, ancient ruins become meeting grounds for urgent artistic practices and interdisciplinary dialogues. Rooted in a post-southern and Mediterranean perspective, the project seeks to valorise not only archaeological heritage, but also the myths, traditions, and stories of the communities that have long inhabited and preserved it. In-ruins is directed by Nicola Guastamacchia (residencies) and Maria Luigia Gioffrè (performance section), with curatorship by Nicola Nitido. Since 2023, the residency has been developed in collaboration with Fondazione Elpis, Milan.
This past year marks the fifth anniversary of our residency. As we were moving from South to North – but never actually leaving it – following the shores of the Ionian Sea, our movement was reminiscent of the great significance it has held within the history of the Mediterranean region, one of our core values.
As the main curator of this project, I have often contemplated the notion of archaeology as a whole field and archives as elements of detail within it, as if archaeology had been intended as a process of (re)discovery of an archive.
For this reason, I thought it was essential for this article to include a passage I wrote as an introduction for Archivalia, the first book to accompany In-ruins residencies in 2023. The title Archivalia draws on the historical taxonomy of Renaissance and Baroque cabinets of curiosities—specifically the categories of Naturalia, Artificialia, and Mirabilia. In this sense, the book positions archival documents as a curated assemblage, treating the archive not as a static repository of records but as an active, generative space of knowledge production. By framing archival materials within this tradition, Archivalia reimagines them as objects of inquiry and wonder, capable of producing new meanings within contemporary artistic and cultural practice.
Villa Romana Palazzi di Casignana. Photo Armando Perna
On a philological method
“…And these things never happened, but they always exist: the intelligence sees them all together in an instant, the word runs through them and exposes them in succession.” (Sallust, 4th century AD)
Having to deal with the curatorship of such a specific and branched artistic project, like that of In-ruins, it seemed natural to me to apply and follow the philological method. Starting from the study of the sources and the extensive documentation that emerged whenever looking at a new site or antiquarium in Ionian Calabria, each research project, the subject of constant dialogue between curators and artists, was therefore developed following a philological perspective. However, we cannot speak of a philological method without considering what is most archaic and interwoven in the traditions to which we appeal: the myth. As revealed, many mythological representations of the Western cultural heritage would not be known to us without the study of the monumental heritage, in this case, present around the Mediterranean basin. The influence of myth and its oral transmission is what has united almost all the research carried out so far by artists who have dealt with archaeological material. Itamar Gov, for example, reinterprets in an installation key traditions derived from the syncresis of mythical and religious tales; Emi Alraii, on the other hand, questions the technique of ceramics and its possibility of dialogue with mythical Iraqi iconographies; Simona Brinkmann’s reflection develops towards the reception of mythical spaces connected to their performativity, Lidia Bianchi adds iconographic material to the Circeo promontory, a place then and still mythical [Author’s note: These artists were part of the first two editions of In-ruins (2018, 2021)]. Just like the myth, which has manifested itself and made tangible over the centuries through the discovery of countless artefacts, the artists’ practice has added a piece that is sometimes fundamental, sometimes essential to the ruins of the sites under analysis. Through the re-semantization of the fragmentum, the myth becomes material and becomes an integral part of the human cultural fabric. And it is precisely in this moment that the memory and meaning of the ruins manifest themselves faithfully: the trace that becomes a furrow, the imprint that becomes stone. After the book was published, two other editions of the residency were realised, the first two that also expanded our geographical territory of competence and contributed to the growth of the project. Even applying consolidated practices and methodologies, moving in different and non-familiar premises – which became familiar after a couple of days – has brought extra stimulation for curatorial thought and discourse. When I wrote the book, I was considering my intervention and participation as if I were a philologist, being loyal and faithful to the sources, respecting the myths, the genii locorum, and the contextual demands of the archaeological sites we were involved with. As time has passed, I can definitely say that I have incorporated the notion of meta-archaeology in my current curatorial practice.
It’s interesting that there is a hyphen between meta and archaeology, as there is between In and ruins. For almost all the editions, the artists have been somehow acting as archaeologists. Funny thing is that in some towns, they were even considered as such by the locals, and right in the last edition, the actual residency was where the local archaeologists go to reside when they are on a ‘mission’. This state of liminality has always been present and recurrent in our project, as (un) consciously related in the name of the project and in the concept of meta-archaeology. The reason why I call it meta is that there is an afterlife of the practice that is incumbent upon each moment during the time of the residency. Meta-archaeology involves a lengthy research process that extends to other elements even if it doesn’t touch the archeological site. Nevertheless, the artistic process becomes like layered archival materials that necessarily require time, presence, and sensitivity to surface meanings. At this point, meta-archeology becomes the whole journey, archiving every detail and moving through the artists’ need as in diving across historical, mythological, material, and social strata. Finally, traces, fragments, memories, and living practices will eventually coexist, transcending the canonical notion of time.
The archive here is not only composed of written sources or artefacts, but also of ruins, myths, gestures, encounters, and the ongoing life of places and communities. By activating this continuous process, the site extends beyond itself: documentation, reflection, re-semantisation, and the transformation of lived experience all merge into cultural memory.
Archaeologists, when on a mission, not only have to face the onsite practice, but there is also – and is equally important – the recollection of what has been done onsite, photographs, documentation, inventories, catalogues, consultation of books, etc.
For the artists, instead, since there is no necessarily onsite practice, every social interaction, encounter, or activity is related to their research and to its expected outcome. Meta-archaeology can then be finally defined as a tentacular, non-stop implication activated by the artists in residency – and by curators. I would like now to redirect the attention to the versatility of this concept, in regard to the artists’ practices. Over the past five editions, we have received a pretty much complete coverage of most contemporary art practices, including a former archaeologist. What I have been noticing through the editions, and has become almost a confirmation, is that the factor that unified all of the practices was exactly a meta-archaeological approach, which sometimes helped deliver and run smoothly until the end of the residency. It is this state of liminality, mentioned earlier, that ultimately creates cohesion, aligning each resident with their purpose and collectively contributing to the core of the project. A twisting turning point of roles, in which contemporary cultural practitioners can become archaeologists, or when archaeologists can indulge in a creative act, or when curators and researchers can put their hands on documents they would have never thought they could touch.
