Cosima D. – Cosima’s Inferno: Mixed Media Projects Inspired by Dante’s Inferno

“In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to / myself in a dark wood, for the straight way was lost.” I first read those words in the beginning of my junior year of high school, when I took Michel de Konkoly Thege’s Dante’s Inferno class. Upon reading those first three lines of the Commedia, I felt as if I had to read them again, and again, because in only a handful of syllables, Dante had said so much to me. From that class, I became obsessed with Dante. I eventually took on an Honors Project with Michel and a friend, in which we read Purgatorio, and as a regular Patreon supporter of Dante podcasts, I was recently (although mispronounced) shouted out on an an episode for my monthly three-dollar donation. Through Dante I have found very special connections with others who have read and loved the Commedia, as well as a deeper love for poetry, language, and all things Italian. As it is an important year in Dante’s history, the 700th anniversary of Dante’s death, working on something Dante-related seemed very fitting for my Senior Project. After all, Dante is my Virgil and I feel as if he has been with me all through high school, guiding me through my own dark wood. 

For my Senior Project, I sought to explore my essential question “how is Dante’s Inferno a catalyst for our own self-exploration?” as well as a few sub-questions, such as, “how have other writers, artists, etc. adapted or taken influence from Inferno?” and “what does Dante’s journey mean to me?” Through combining my interest in Dante with my passion for writing and art, I intended to produce a body of mixed media projects inspired by the thirty-four cantos (portions of the poem – kind of like chapters) of Inferno. Alongside my creative work, I conducted interviews with individuals who also wanted to talk about Dante for hours on end. In these interviews I posed questions such as “how did you come to Dante?,” “what does Dante’s journey mean to you?,” and “what is another work (poem, book, movie, etc.) where you see traces of Inferno?”

During the experience, these conversations became guideposts for my project, illuminating the Inferno in mesmerizing ways I never would have imagined on my own. However, the creative portion of my project didn’t exactly turn out how I intended it to, as an unforeseen trek through my own dark wood (as Dante would put it) had me much less productive than I ever thought I would be. On most days, leaving my bed felt nearly impossible, and picking up a pencil seemed like the deepest form of self-inflicted humiliation. It was only toward the end of my project that I realized I was putting way too much pressure on myself to make every piece perfect. So, I embraced the mess that is my project, and embraced the part of me that wanted to make a mess. Thus unfurled a very undone/unfinished project that’s still trying to figure itself out.

Looking back, I feel so far away from the person I was for most of this project – but I know she is still part of me and I’ve chosen to accept and love her (even though she didn’t do the thirty-four projects she said she was going to do). Coming into the experience, I thought of my creativity in a very different way. I think I secretly hoped that this project would tame and refine the sort of artistic “beast within,” but now I see that what I really wanted to do – deep, deep down – was set her free. I would have never believed my two-month-ago self if I told her that almost the entire project ended up being visual arts-focused and not a tidy collection of poetry and prose. While I’ve always enjoyed looking at art and sometimes doing it, I never really thought of it as “mine” or something that I would want to do in my free time. But now, I’m thinking that it may be a secret weapon of mine, because working on these projects became one of the beautiful cathartic releases I so desperately needed during this time. I found my sadness, anger, power, and magic in collaging, painting, scribbling, and playlist making. Each piece is a piece of me, but also a piece of Dante. They have become adaptations, or re-imaginings, of Dante’s world, in which I drew inspiration from my own life as well as the work of other artists. I was heavily influenced by Gustave Dore and William Blake (obviously), but I also found that zine art, Patti Smith and Francesca Woodman were very much on my mind; and of course, the magical roars and serenades of Tori Amos, Erykah Badu, the Cocteau Twins, and Courtney Love guided me the whole way as well.

In the end, even though I didn’t quite accomplish all of the things I set out to do, I know that my relationship to Dante and the text are lifelong. I think it will always be a collection of magical words I turn to, as I continue along this journey of our life, connecting Dante’s life with my own.  

“As little flowers, which the chill of night has bent and huddled, when the white sun strikes, grow straight and open fully on their stems, so did I, too, with my exhausted force” (Inferno II).

P.S. Special thanks to Ann Carroll and Michel de Konkoly Thege, my Virgils forever and always. Thank you for showing me Dante.

Click the image below to view my Instagram Gallery where you can view my work:

https://www.instagram.com/cosimas_inferno/

And, if you’re interested, here is a list of works that have traces of Inferno (compiled from interview responses): Traces of Inferno: A List of Works