The encounter with avant-garde theatre came from Flavio Sorrentino. At the time Simone Carella was doing deliveries for Roberto Capucci, the famous Roman tailor. Since he was a true “longhair”, after work he never failed to head for Piazza di Spagna, the hang-out of other hippies like him. 

Sorrentino was their ringleader, devilishly handsome, who never stopped strutting his stuff for the young women and the others. Before drawing yet another maiden into his clutches, he would tell his friends: “let’s bet that if I stare at a woman I can make her blush”. Having entered this milieu, also thanks to bottles of perfume he plundered at work and gave away to his cohorts, one evening Carella was invited to visit a club, which was none other than Dioniso Teatro.

In a video-chat, Ambrosia tries to bring back to life, for the audience, the hypnotic, intimate dimension of Sorrentino’s gaze. As if we were inside a tiny screening room, face to face with the performer, a series of clips portray angles and facets of the personal world of Ambrosia.

Vincenzo D’Ambrosio was born in 1993 in Naples. After his studies in communication, he moves to Milan to study photography, where he began a path of artistic experimentation making his body the main means of expression. Vincenzo, or Ambrosia, is something yet to be defined, a way of being difficult to describe.