With a pink voter card clenched between my fingers, I slip inside an ornate banquet hall at the Westin Palace, nestled in Milan’s Piazza della Repubblica.
There, at the front of the room, an “election attendant” sits stoically behind a desk. Clad in all denim, with dark hair slicked back, he extends an open hand. I know what to do. We’ve been instructed ahead of time. I hand in my card, and in return, receive a large sheet with several parties to choose from: love, nature, family, music, dream, union, and world. Just like the Italian schede elettorali, or ballot papers, party symbols are enclosed within white rectangles. All I have to do is pick one.
The pin-drop quiet of the room is startled by the sound of my footsteps as I approach the models posing in the center. Some sitting, some standing, they’re perfectly still — as though they’ve assumed carefully planned positions for a portrait. Warm light drapes over the faces in the front line, casting a butterfly-shaped shadow on their noses and cheeks. There’s something about this theatrical lighting that reminds me of The Fourth Estate — one of the inspirations behind the collection — in which Italian painter Giuseppe Pellizza da Volped uses light to highlight a crowd of striking workers marching towards hope.