With the Fascist Kids, It’s All About the Race

I am in Italy. Old, ruined buildings have faded posters of Italian fascism on them. I read old documents in Italian. I find folders of children’s drawings and schoolwork. The building is a school. Kids come in. We follow them outside, where they sing and dance and play. I film them on my iPhone, with a weird telephoto lens, it makes everything like old film, a silent movie.

I show the kids earlier stuff I filmed. Penny falling off a ladder. They laugh.

We are racing around a track in a park. On roller skates. I am travelling backwards, almost horizontal. I can’t see where I’m going. It’s hard to slow down for bends. I pass a couple of people, but don’t win the race. I don’t care about winning, I’ve had fun!



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