In "the shadow of the winged machine...": The Esposizione dell'aeronautica Italiana and the Ascension of Myth in the Slipstream of Modernity

In June 1934, in the year XII of the fascist era, the Milanese Palazzo dell'Arte reopened its halls to the public. Until January, the palazzo housed the Esposizione dell'aeronautica Italiana (EAI), an exhibition dedicated to

all the contributions of the genius, the heroism and the work of the Italians to the solution of the problems of flight, to the achievement of memorable deeds in war and peace, and to the construction and uses of a means of transportation, for whom destiny has conceded an ever broadening development.¹

According to one of the popular monthly aviation periodicals published by Italo Balbo's Aeronautical Ministry, L'Ala d'Italia, in approximately six months over one million visitors "had wandered through the rooms of the Palazzo dell'Arte and dwelled in its halls to relive the story of the Italian eagles and the grand poem of the proud human conquest."² By order of the Duce, the duration of the exhibition had been extended so that further visitors were able to undertake a "pilgrimage of love" and to admire the marvels brought forth by "the ingeniousness and the capacity of the Italian people" that were displayed on the two exhibition floors of the recently erected structure.

The idea for the exhibition began with Marcello Visconti di Modrone, the Milanese podestà. He entrusted Colonel Francesco Cutry from the historical division of the Aeronautical Ministry, Carlo A. Felice, and the architect Giuseppe Pagano with its planning. Some of the most renowned architects and designers of the Italian modernist movement were to contribute to the exhibition.³ On the entrance side, for example, the building's façade was adorned by a composition designed by the painter Erbeto Carboni: a stylized fascio littorio overshadowed a map of the world flanked by a dynamic swarm of airplanes that "symbolized the primacy of the Italian wing."⁴ The curators wanted to overwhelm the visitor right from the start. Once visitors entered the building, a typically resolute-faced Mussolini glared down upon them from the far side of the entrance hall.⁵ The caption that underlined Mussolini's-and accordingly all of Italy's-determination read: "This wing that has resumed its flight won't be broken again." Visitors proceeded into an atrium (2) from which they could already catch a better glimpse of the highlight on the first floor. It was the SVA-airplane of the Squadra di San Marco (15) with which Gabriele D'Annunzio had dropped his cynical leaflet-bombs on the Austro-Hungarian capital of Vienna on August 9th, 1918. The imagery was obvious: the relic lay at the foot of the steps and the ascent that followed led upwards, not only to the second floor of the exhibition, but to the regenerated Italy that fascism had brought forth.

Fig. 1.

The façade of the Palazzo dell'arte and the entrance to the exhibition.

Mussolini's Aviatik-airplane (15/2) was at the top of the steps. He had crashed it at Arcore—what subtle irony of history—in early March 1921 while practicing for his flight license. What followed was a tale of successes, astonishing feats, the fulfillment of a glorious destiny. The second floor exhibited a wide range of achievements from the fascist reign. It encompassed the airports that had been built (16), the study of aerodynamics (17) and meteorology (21), civil aviation and air mail (28), and the Italian records in speed and flown distances (19 and 26), as well as mass flights (20). Of these, the Crociera aerea del Decennale (22), Italo Balbo and his "winged century's" mass flight from Orbetello to Chicago, was displayed most prominently.⁶

Like other fascist exhibitions, the EAI was designed to convey the spirit of fascism and the fascist order to Italian society.⁷ An exhibition on aviation was an apt means to this end, as aviation was a popular symbol of modern technological mastery and thus a crowd puller. In particular...