Piero Chiambretti is an italian showman. He partecipated at the last edition of Milanesiana,the theme of ehich has been the imperfection. During his performance,Chiambretti has read a text that was written by the same italian showman.
Here there is a text’s transltion,but in the end there is also the source in which there is the original text,that is in italian.
When the Milanesiana’s queen Elisabetta Sgarbi in a hotel’shall in Turn,near at the the Salone del Libro,with a very deternmined air said to me:” For you I have a perfect thing” I thought to a performance about the crisis of rejection of TV,or about the mass comunication,or,about the legend of Big Turin.
It wasn’t so. The theme of this edition is the imperfection. I ask to myself which was the relation between me and this theme. I spent a lot of days to find an answer,that,for fortuity,looking in the mirror,I arrived at the truth. The sociologist of Houston , Brenè Brown,wrote an interesting book entitled ”The imperfection’s talent”,in which she show the defect as a new taste’s horizon. Defects and the courage to show them are considered now as symbol of personality and particularity. The austrian aphorist and writer Karl Kraus,about this theme was lapidary: ”To be perfect the only thing missing to her was a defect”.
The perfection’s obsession during the last decades found in the scalpel a faithful tool.
When everything is perfect,it’s the moment to be more worry.
Noses,mouths,cheeks,breasts,crow’s feet,they all made available to the achievement of the masterpiece.
Shame that true perfection is the imperfection. It’s enough to take a ride to the streets to note how cosmetic surgery is the true litmus test of this concept. Monsters we find are sublimes and happy about their adjustments. I saw in some bar,women laughingas camels,in TV,girls transformed in gas cylinders,on the catwalks designers who seem masks to Viareggio Carnival .
Rita Levi Montalcini during one hundred and one years , has never been to the beautician. My compatriot has published a book entitled ”Praise to the imperfection”,in which she write without fear,that her life has been imperfect. Not surplisingly she earned a Nobel Prize in 1986. I wonder ,if she is not perfect,who is perfect? Dolce and Gabbana?. Striving for excellence excites you,aspire to the perfection distress you. The imperfection is perfect. A paradox that has deep roots: Empedocles,Aristotle,and the more contemporary Bruno Vespa ,support the contention that if the world were perfect could not improve.
Billy Wilder comes to my aid when he says “No one is perfect.” I look and do not see myself perfect, but complete with all necessary parts. The best perfection is imperfection.
Is called perfect person who can reach his goal. In life I wanted to be high.
Seven years was very high, at fifteen I was the same, ie low.
I did not grow due to a problem in a gland, said to my mother some endocrinologists, “The face do a bit of these injections, it gains a few inches safe.” I bucarono my ass for six months, then it was discovered that the treatment was against the ‘orchitis.
I came two testicles touching the ground. The feeling of drag testicles along the sidewalk at the risk of stepping on, was to feel even smaller.
Imperfect, to be perfect for the comic.
It was my luck.