Laura Rodari, Malìa, 2020

Malìa is one of those rare Italian words that are too transiently sculptured with potent possibility and resonance to specifically decipher, define and fix. Very approximately though, it means ‘spell’, but one that has negative implications or dark connotations, a spell of shades and portent. The sirens are a good example of this, they embody a shadow magnetised song, a chant of fantastical poetry sung in dark voices that spell binds men (sailors), driving them into trance states and downwards into the depths of oblivion. In another sense, Malìa is said to be like an invisible dark thread, chain, or rope that tethers and binds something or someone.
Malìa also can be described to have this mysterious ability to achieve unusual and disconcerting effects (and not necessarily through deliberate magical practise or the occult), oftentimes inconspicuously and subtly to begin with making the Malìa all the more ensnaring. One is aware of an ‘effect’ , something that has been internalised transforming seemingly everything on the outside. Something has happened, but one isn’t sure what, when or how. One has difficulty defining it, one has a sense of a kind, but that’s about it.
In short, Malìa is enchantment, it’s charm, it’s the flickering of shadows hence it’s also the light source, it’s the glow, it’s the song that drowns the listener, it’s the power of seduction. It’s what’s left behind. It’s when it’s over.