The work of many women across various fields - art, design, architecture, and science, to mention a few - often fades into obscurity. Some are forgotten entirely, while others are rediscovered only after their passing, gaining posthumous recognition. But sometimes, new generations of admirers and researchers bring about exciting rediscoveries, as it happened to Italian dancer and choreographer Valeria Magli who was fortunate to witness a renewed appreciation for her work during her lifetime.
In 2013, after suffering a brain haemorrhage, Magli reflected on whether her artistic legacy, already considered niche, would disappear with her. Yet, a generational shift took her by surprise: a newfound interest in her performances transformed her Milan-based studio into a lively hub, drawing researchers, artists, and filmmakers who became, in her words, like her artistic children and grandchildren, ensuring her legacy would endure. Among them is Caterina Molteni, who recently curated the compact exhibition Valeria Magli - Morbid in the Project Room at MAMbo – Museo d'Arte Moderna di Bologna (on view until May 11, 2025).
Born in Bologna in 1952, Magli built a career between her hometown and Milan, crafting performances that wove together literature, poetry, avant-garde music, and dance. She embraced an anti-spectacular approach to movement, blending elements of cabaret, clowning, music hall, and tap dance.
These techniques became her means of challenging traditional representations of the female body, offering a sharp critique of the objectified image of women perpetuated by the media.
The female figure is the common thread weaving through the entire exhibition at MAMbo. Throughout her practice Magli experimented with performance languages, showing how subverting them, or placing them in absurd, paradoxical situations, could become a way to reclaim the female body exposed on stage.
This focus on the female form is reflected in the exhibition's title: "morbid" is an adjective Magli deliberately chose to describe the female figure. It echoes the Italian word "morbido" (meaning "soft"), but is pronounced with a German inflection, evoking the English "morbid", a term linked to the sickly, unsettling, and grotesque. This dual meaning captures the contradictory qualities historically attributed to women. "Morbid" plays therefore on two enduring clichés: woman as a delicate object of desire and as an irrational, disruptive force, both manic and obsessive. This term is juxtaposed to the opposite of "morbid", "rigid", a quality Magli associates with men (symbolically represented through a phallic banana), perceived as upright and stable within patriarchal structures.
The exhibition unfolds across five sections, or movements, each tracing Magli's exploration and redefinition of femininity through her work. Even though the event unfolds in just one room, there is enough material here to make you wonder if, beyond simply rediscovering her work, we'll need to explore whether some of these pieces can be reimagined for the stage in a modern context or even reinvented (after all Magli's Pupilla was revived in 2014).
The journey begins in the '70s in Bologna, where Magli studied and was introduced to piano, ballet, artistic gymnastics, and competitive swimming by her parents as a child. She then attended the Faculty of Philosophy in Bologna, graduating in Aesthetics with a thesis titled "Corpo, ideologia, spettacolo" (Body, Ideology, Spectacle).
Her dissertation is displayed here alongside her ballet slippers and Antonietta Laterza's feminist album "Alle sorelle ritrovate," with Magli, who was closely involved with the Collettivo Femminista Bolognese (Bologna Feminist Collective), appearing on the cover.
Additional documents from Magli's Bologna period reference her training with clown Roy Bosier, and include her Italian translation of Étienne Decroux's Paroles sur le Mime, and the play L'Amleto non si può fare by Vittorio Franceschi, in which Magli incorporated her circus experience.
In the '60s, a neo-avant-garde group of intellectuals called Gruppo 63 emerged in Italy, experimenting with writing marked by rhythmic qualities.
In the '70s, Magli connected with some of these intellectuals, including Nanni Balestrini and Arrigo Lora Totino, a pioneer of Italian phonetic poetry, developing a sort of physical grammar.
With Arrigo Lora Totino, Magli created in 1982 the Futura project, a performance inspired by Totino's research in avant-garde poetry, Futurism, Dada, and Lettrism. In the performance, Magli and Totino, dressed in tuxedos, transformed poetic texts into mimed declamations, enriched by ironic sketches.
Rare footage from the '70s reveals the structure of the performance, with Magli wearing tights under her tuxedo jacket, a detail that disrupted the scene's elegance and allowed her to burst into dance interludes, one of which reinterpreted Marinetti's "Bombardamento" (the final section of the free-word poem Zang Tumb Tumb), a cornerstone of Futurist poetry, through tap dance.
Magli’s meeting with Balestrini led to a series of collaborations: as Balestrini's texts became more rhythmic and sonic, Magli developed various performances and actions that became her so-called Poesia ballerina (dancing poetry), an exploration of the body in poetry, which later evolved into a metaphor for the female body.
The first example in the exhibition is La signorina Richmond (1978), a work inspired by Balestrini's Le ballate della signorina Richmond (1977). In this piece, Balestrini, through the image of a winged woman, questions the nature of poetry and utopia, before tracing the political struggles of Italy's "Years of Lead" and the turbulent spirit of the '60s and '70s. The poems are structured in quatrains and carry a satirical tone.
Magli interpreted the text, turning the ballads into a fully realized performance: she embodied a metaphorical woman who pulled various objects from a trunk (a set designed by artist Gianfranco Baruchello, which featured a trunk that opened to allow Magli to take on different roles) and played multiple parts, with movements characterized by a broken rhythm.
Through the fragmented structure of the performance, Magli evoked a female figure that resisted symbolism and embraced allegory as a poetic figure of protest.
Some of the costumes in this performance, including a pink pyjama jacket and a lime-tiered dress with a red sash at the waist, were designed by the late artist, fashion and interior designer Cinzia Ruggeri, whose costumes also appear in the third section of the exhibition.
With Nanni Balestrini, Magli also collaborated on Milleuna (1979), featuring the voice of singer Demetrio Stratos. This became her most famous piece: presented in Milan and Bologna, it was later performed in New York and Paris.
The piece moved from another work by Balestrini, a poem of one hundred words, all beginning with "S" and alluding to sexuality. The poem was sung by Stratos, while Magli developed a choreography that challenged the audience's erotic projections onto her body.
Magli danced in the darkness, avoiding the audience’s gaze, but stood still whenever the light was switched on again. The result was a hypnotic dance, a juxtaposition of voice and erotic tension in a game in which the audience was invited to imagine the movement of the body without desiring it while it moved. The exhibition includes some props from this performance, as well as a costume designed by Annagemma Lascari.
The costume appears to feature eight padded sections resembling breasts that transformed Magli's body. Magli has a story that connects this costume with a renowned Italian designer.
"Lascari graduated under Gianfranco Ferré," she recalls as we look at the Milleuna section of the exhibition. "He adored her work, and when I complained about having to perform Milleuna in my bodysuit because I couldn't afford proper costumes, despite constantly touring with the show, Ferré suggested I asked Annagemma to design one for me. At the time, she was graduating with an experimental thesis on Montedison fabrics and she came up with this avant-garde piece."
More costumes are featured in the next section, dubbed by Magli and the curator as the "Bananas section" since it focuses on Banana morbide (1980) and Banana lumière (1981), both works with choreography, dance, and voice by Magli, set to texts by Nanni Balestrini and music by John Cage (with Walter Marchetti on Banana lumière).
In both cases, the costumes were designed by Cinzia Ruggeri, who was rediscovered only posthumously. In the exhibition, the costumes are on display alongside costume sketches and a photographic documentation.
"I was friends with Demetrio Stratos and had worked with him; through him, I met his cousin, Thalia Istikopoulou, one of the founders of the Teatro dell'Elfo in Milan," Magli recalls.
"Thalia was very close to Cinzia, they worked together. One day, for a project, Thalia introduced us, and Cinzia and I immediately hit it off. Cinzia had this kind of Austrian aura, she was like a 1930s Austrian figure, but when she laughed, it was hearty and loud, like a truck driver! That's how our friendship began: we'd meet in the evenings, often with our partners and friends. She was with Valentino Parmiani at the time, who was incredibly talented and was an extraordinary illustrator. I think he did some of the sketches for Cinzia's costumes because they are very detailed and they remind me of his style."
Banana morbide was first presented as part of the first exhibition dedicated to Magli in Milan. The work explored the contrasts between the masculine and the feminine worlds, with the term "banana" evoking phallic rigidity, and the adjective "morbide" adding another layer to the theme.
Ruggeri's costumes played a crucial role in both performances: for Banana morbide, Ruggeri designed a series of light, see-through garments in different colors, ranging from nude to vivid red, deep purple, and black. The right sleeve of the first garment was long but gradually in the other garments it receded, adding another layer of symbolism and visual interest.
When Magli started the performance, she wore the nude design with the longer sleeve, then she added more layers one on top of the other, in a reversed striptease.
There was a deep meaning behind it all: the garments symbolized a stratification of life experiences and emotions - from birth to love, and ultimately to mourning, represented by black. As life passed, the sleeves became shorter and shorter. All the different colored garments layered over her body and on her arm became in this way a testament to the passage of life.
Accompanied by Cage's atonal music and Balestrini's text, which created a playful narrative, Magli's movements, poses, and winks alluded to the sensuality of soubrettes. Yet, the promise of sensuality was never fully realized, as the anticipated striptease never happened.
This ingenious and symbolic design may evoke memories among film and costume experts of Piero Tosi's costume for Silvana Mangano as Giovanna in the final episode of the film Le streghe (The Witches, 1967) - "A night like any other" by Vittorio De Sica. Towards the end of the episode, Giovanna, clad in an amazing black satin dress with a colourful billowing cape formed by strips of fabrics knotted on her shoulders, dreams of stripping in a stadium. As she undresses, Giovanna reveals underneath the black satin dress more colourful dresses layered one on top of the other, in green, yellow and red, hinting at her real character, definitely brighter than her grey existence.
Fashion design students should therefore pay attention to the possibilities of layering different colored garments one on the other, also keeping in mind examples of this technique that appeared in previous fashion collections. Adeline André's A/W 2010-11 Haute Couture collection, for instance, included long-tiered dresses made using seamless pieces of fabrics over-imposed one to the other, creating interesting technicolour effects and showing that, by changing the length and colour of a piece of fabric, the entire design can be altered.
Recalling the creative process behind such playful and inventive designs, Magli fondly reminisces, "When we worked on the Banane pieces, Cinzia and I always had a drink in hand, and we'd never stopped laughing, I remember it clearly. We joked about bananas and about men, we called them 'those ones who had the banana'."
In the early '80s Ruggeri experimented with behavioral and environmental garments and designs that incorporated LED lights and liquid crystals, which allowed the textiles to change colors when the temperature changed. Banana lumière enabled her to create a costume that played with light.
"That project was done in collaboration with artist Piero Fogliati; the three of us were in Cinzia's showroom, and I just observed how they interacted and we eventually created a costume in which the light was used to escape objectification," Magli recalls.
In the first part of the performance, Magli engaged with two sculptures by Piero Fogliati that emitted light and iridescent beacons. In the second part, wearing Ruggeri's black bodysuit decorated with white dots, beads and ping pong balls, Magli transformed herself into a shimmering structure.
One thing that can't be appreciated here (but it is illustrated by Ruggeri’s sketch, also included in the exhibition) is that once Magli started dancing in this garment, the movements became increasingly dizzying, and with the circular motion of the ping pong balls, the black and white colors created a light spectrum.
So, the dancer appeared dressed in the colors generated by the interaction between the garment and the stage lights. Once again, the costume had a profound meaning: it allowed the dancer to transform into a luminous device capable of refracting, emitting, and capturing light.
Magli's collaboration with Ruggeri continued in the video "Per un vestire organico" (not included in this exhibition), shot in Ruggeri's Milanese showroom, in which Magli moved clad in a blue bodysuit adorned with countless suction cups, but also with other works.
"Aside from Banana morbide, Banana lumière, we did Indications de jeu and Schönberg Kabarett, the latter featuring Cinzia and Thalia's hand-painted costumes," Magli says. "Then, in 1984, there was a performance with the LED dress at Milan's Conservatory, where I wore Cinzia's illuminated dress and danced among the orchestra, performing to John Cage's Sixteen Dances."
The next section of the exhibition delves deeper into the female body and is focused on Pupilla, premiered in Milan in 1983.
Originally conceived for five dancers, it was staged with just Valeria Magli as the sole performer, going through five tableaus, due to organizational and financial constraints. The performance was conceived as an exploration of femininity in reverse, in which a doll was employed as a narrative tool to trace the ages and transformations of a woman.
In the first tableau of Pupilla, Magli stars as La signora, an elegantly attired lady dancing to a waltz in a space reminiscent of a ballroom. She wears two masks on her wrists, one sad and one smiling, symbolizing her internal emotional states. In the next tableau, "Bambine" (Young Girls), Magli performs a fragmented dance while wearing a wax mask. The third tableau, "Sabola", explores adolescence, caught in a state of suspension between innocence and restlessness. In this scene, Magli dances with a doll resembling herself.
The fourth tableau, "Machine", features Magli dressed in an outfit inspired by Max Ernst’s "La préparation de la colle d'os" (The Preparation of Glue from Bones View this photo). This armor-like costume gives Magli a cyborg-like appearance as she performs mechanical movements, surrounded by lanterns shaped like Michelin men.
The fifth tableau, "Die Puppe", inspired by Hans Bellmer, shows Magli interacting with a puppet that has exaggerated breasts, while the feet of the puppet sport Mary Jane shoes and socks that evoke the attire of a young girl. This tableau symbolizes a woman transfigured by herself and others.
The exhibition closes with a piece that brings Magli back to Bologna: here in 1990 Magli presented Tenez tennis, inspired by the French tennis star Suzanne Lenglen. The piece explored a love affair between Magli and Lenglen, based on a text by Gianni Clerici.
The play centered around Magli confessing to her hypothetical fiancé her infatuation with Suzanne Lenglen, to which her fiancé responded, "I don't understand why it has to be her and not Joan of Arc." What fascinated Magli about Lenglen was that, despite being an athlete, she never abandoned her femininity and had fashionable outfits custom-made for her, embodying a distinct feminine presence that fascinated Valeria Magli. For this performance Magli turned to Romeo Gigli for the costumes.
The exhibition also features a video by Gianni Toti, in which vintage photographs of Suzanne Lenglen are reworked and edited, set to music by John Cage.
Cage wrote to Magli, explaining the process behind the music: it involved recording tennis matches, cutting the tape into pieces, and then reassembling it. This method resulted in a disruption of the rhythmic flow typical of a match between two players.
While recreating the rhythms of tennis balls bouncing on the court and on rackets, Cage's "Music for Tennis Balls" evoked the speed and intensity Lenglen experienced during matches and also hinted at the hectic pace of contemporary life.
For Magli, this speed became a metaphor for reflecting on the female condition, as well as the possibility of rescuing forgotten women from obscurity, something that became part of a broader project that she pursued throughout the 1990s, rediscovering female figures from the past with her piece Coco e le altre (Coco and the others, 1998; not included in this exhibition).
This theme resonates with the mission of younger generations, who are working to rescue women's legacies from erasure. For Magli, this effort is a form of resistance, not only against historical neglect but also against the transformation of feminine aesthetics in a world that she feels is becoming increasingly hostile towards women.
"They have changed the aesthetics of femininity, just look at TV shows, and at women with surgically altered lips and bottoms," she states. "It's a transformation that young women can't ignore, but must question and must fight against."
Image credits for this post
Image 2: Valeria Magli, Pupilla, 1983. Photograph by Carla Cerati. Courtesy Elena Ceratti
Image 25: Valeria Magli, Banana lumière, 1981, Teatro di Porta Romana, Milano. Photograph by Rina Aprile
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