Francesca Scelfo

Francesca Scelfo

Purgatory hotel

2019 - 2023 , ITALY
Contributions: IMP festival (International Month Of Photojournalism) , Jacobin Italia , Perimetro
No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark

Purgatory Hotel aims to describe how people face inequality, how they structure communitarian responses to it, what they feel in-depth and their psychological conditions because of temporary life.

Refugees, asylum seekers, homeless people, irregular immigrants remain outside the economic circuit and therefore obtain non-extensive protection in terms of housing. Housing emergency is a big issue nowadays: the poorest face difficulties often amplified by their environment.

The project was born in 2020 (in progress) in Padua, North Italy when I started telling the story of 11 families in a small occupied housing near the city centre. Facciolati 96 is an ex- university residence where mainly Africans, Italians, Poles and Albanians lived.
They lacked a sense of community and had many problems in organizing their lives in their community; unsuccessfully trying to create safe conditions between neighbours.

I decided to extend my project to the capital city: Rome, where many occupied accommodations in Italy are concentrated. The stories I describe are focused mainly on two large occupied housing neighbourhoods: Province (140 families, near the city centre) and Torrevecchia (70 families, North of Rome). These occupied housing involved a lot of cultures: Africans, North Africans, Moroccans and Tunisians, Ukrainians, South Americans as Ecuadorians, Venezuelans and Peruvians.

Every squatted building represents a bigger issue. It embraces macro dynamics that cannot be forced into a discomfort category. As a psychologist and photojournalist I tell the small and intimate story that tells a bigger picture. Purgatory Hotel wants to explore the contradiction between families’ isolation and the social support they try to find by responding to psychological and social distress situations.

A general view of Rome's Province at night, a big building near the city centre in Rome was occupied by squatters in 2012 for ten years by 140 families. This time of the day is soundly crowded. It smells of the different cultures sharing this space. Since the economic crisis of 2008, the housing emergency has degenerated. In Rome, more than 57,000 households are stuck in a housing emergency. Rome, Italy, 2022.
People stand at the main entrance of the Province's occupation during Christmas 2020. Christmas, as well as other occasions, represents for the squatters a way to strengthen their sense of belonging and to feel part of something greater than their loneliness in society. Rome, Italy, 2021.
The male community of the Province's building during a football match of A.S. Roma in the main hall of the Province's occupation. A.S. Roma won. The team's fans celebrate its victory. This occasion represents an opportunity for aggregation to create intercultural cohesion and solidarity. Rome, Italy, 2022.
Ostap (left) and Bogdan, Italo-Ukrainian siblings, talk in their shared room in the suburb's occupation. Ostap, 18 years old, was born in Italy; he is affected by trisomy 21 syndrome. He lives with his siblings and his mother, Liuba. She works as a maid for a family. Ostap lives in high conditions of psychosomatic stress during the most critical moments, such as the risks of expulsion. Ostap and Bogdan share the same empty room. Rome, Italy, 2021.
Facciolati 96 is a small building in northern Italy squatted by families evicted from their apartments. At the doorstep of Marco's apartment, he is giving his son Andrea some money. Marco resides at a housing squat, Facciolati 96. Padua, Italy, 2019.
Erica gets ready to bed in the apartment, one of the Province's occupations. She lives with her father, Umberto, who is one of the leaders of the political movement for the housing emergency. The furniture of those apartments follows the decorative rules driven by the need: houses can be just simple or based on personal preferences. Erica and Umberto's home is mainly decorated with political posters and pieces of journals. Rome, Italy, 2021.
Mercedes plays on the terrace of her apartment at the top of the Province's occupation. She is an Italo-Peruvian child living with her parents and her brother. Her mother, Graciela, told me that for Mercedes, it is a great opportunity and a significant source of calm to have a space to play in. She has never had it before. Graciela and José try to protect their children from the anxiety of temporary life. Rome, Italy, 2021.
Bogdan and his mum Liuba, on the balcony of their apartment at Province. Liuba said that before they moved to the occupied building, her husband died because of alcohol. He reacted badly to the syndrome of their child Ostap. Rome, Italy, 2022.
A child plays with the phone while his family and activists discuss possible solutions to avoid eviction from the building. At Latino Silvio, you can hear the train's whistle. It is an old train station. Three families live there. Rome, Italy, 2022.
Children play along the corridor at Torrevecchia's occupation. The building was a hospital until 2012, and now it has been occupied by 70 families. Rome, Italy, 2022.
Roberto has his hair cut in the courtyard of the occupation of Torrevecchia, in the North of Rome. Roberto has returned to the occupied building of Torrevecchia after being hospitalised for several months. He can only move with the help of a wheelchair because of his arthritis. Doors and windows behind him are bricked up. The Police had tried to enter the building the night before. Rome, Italy, 2022.
The apartment of Sana, Italo-Moroccan, and her partner. Sana's son lives with her grandmother near the occupied building and is affected by a cognitive disability. The apartment is small and crowded. Sana defines that house as unsuitable for her son's well-being. Rome, Italy, 2022.
After more than 10 years, the residents of Torrevecchia have obtained the allocation of social housing. They are moving to their new apartments. Rome, Italy, 2022
According to somebody from the occupied building, S. is a guy from Morocco who believed that being invisible and anonymous could represent a valid escape solution to avoid other problems. Rome, Italy, 2021.
Families in the Province’s occupation are waiting for the agreement between the leaders of the movements for the right to housing and the Police during a not announced census. They assembled in front of the building to protect themselves from possible eviction. They were concerned that the 6a.m. census was an attempt of eviction. Rome, Italy, 2021.
Luciano lives with his wife and son, squatting in a tiny apartment in Facciolati 96, Padua. Their son is an adolescent, and he told me their housing conditions are sometimes hard for him, especially with his peers. The two bedrooms are separated by a thin plasterboard wall. There is no privacy for them. Padua, Italy, 2020.
A woman looks out of the window in Facciolati's occupation. She is holding the blinds in her back. It included 11 groups of families for five years (2016-2021). At the end of 2021, they received a social housing solution, and the building was evacuated. Padua, Italy, 2020.
The backyard of the Province's occupation. In Rome, the residents have a good opportunity to develop awareness and generate new practices of shared living because they are connected with two main political groups: BPM and Collettivo Di Lotta Per La Casa: both engaged in social policies contrasting marginalization. However, living in these housing conditions, which forces a lack of long-term planning, and sometimes marginalization, can produce psychological difficulties, which are amplified for those in a situation of vulnerability. The title comes from this concept of transition coined by Rafael, a Venezuelan Political Refugee: Hell comes first, but no one knows what comes next. Rome, Italy, 2022.
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