Hands down: on the grotesque zumba session at Turin's Egyptian Museum

Every self-respecting vacation village always includes in its staff the baleful figure of theimportunate tourist entertainer. The one who, to put it bluntly, strives and struggles to involve in his activities, in more or less coercive ways, the unfortunate fifty-year-old accountant from Brianza, proudly sprawled on his couch with the same propensity for movement that the lid of an Etruscan urn might have, and who, upon paying the deposit to his travel agent, would have imagined anything but taking part in the most improbable and degrading endeavors that a human mind can devise for a vacation context. There you have it: such a figure is harassing enough in itself. Let alone if it were to be translocated out of its natural habitat, especially if the destination is a museum. And not just any museum, of course: one of the most important museums in the world. As a matter of fact, it so happens that our cantankerous entertainer has landed, with all his load of sympathy at all costs and double entendres of dubious taste, at the Egyptian Museum in Turin, which had the genius idea of turning the Gallery of the Kings into a gymnasium in which to engage in zumba.

And to immediately put to rest all skeptics who consider it at least bizarre that the notes of Gustavo Lima and sodalists could resonate in front of the astonished gazes of the ancient statues preserved there, the newspaper La Stampa, in the past few hours, has provided the evidence: however, the doubt will remain as to what music the participants in the dancing gathering listened to, since it was planned to be broadcast through earphones as a sign of “respect for the place” (too much grace). As if the situation was not trashy enough to begin with. The invitation, of course, is to take a look at the aforementioned document, which opens with the heartfelt statement of intent of a personal trainer probably involved in organizing the event: “people need guidance, they are a bit lost in this society, they don’t have a guide anymore.” The fact that the young lady is not talking about a Dantean existential bewilderment, but more simply about the unwillingness of many people to engage in physical activity, is made clear when the purpose of the evening is made manifest: “we want to convey to people to move, because moving is the best medicine there can be as a prevention for any kind of disease.”

So the camera pans to a fellow performer, whose dogishness could do nothing against the eagerness to prance over a stage and who, to the cry of “put your hands down” (sic), incites the crowd by urging them to follow him in his medicinal terschorean fury. Nothing is lacking: from the “go Cleopatra” to the friendly prankster decked out as a mummy, there is all the equipment required to turn the Egyptian Museum into the saddest, most embarrassing and predictable provincial dancing. The continuation of the audiovisual can be glossed over: simply watch and listen; any further commentary would be in vain.

Zumba at the Egyptian Museum. Photo from Facebook

Certain that the jubilant zumbers will have long reflected on the consonance between their group dance session and the requirements set forth in the ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums (which in the section on “permanent exhibitions, temporary exhibitions and special activities” suggests that they should “correspond to the mission , to the museum’s stated policies and objectives”), it is at least fair to wonder to what extent the threshold of ridicule has been lowered, which, perhaps, should remind a museum that turning one of its halls into amakeshift gymnasium should not be part of the list of permissible practices. But not because museum institutions should be considered invested with who knows what sacred aura: simply, because zumba does not seem to be the most suitable type of activity for such a context. And as proof of this, the director of the Egyptian Museum might wonder whether it is even remotely possible to imagine an exhibition of archaeological artifacts displayed among treadmills, lat machines, leg presses and dumbbells. And if it seems entirely regular to him, he might at most wonder whether seeing a panting, sweaty botox thrashing, harrumphing and scrambling in an environment not exactly congenial to hosting a fitness class constitutes an effective way for the museum “to develop its educational role and to attract a broad audience from the community, the local area or the target group.” Although, to answer the question, one would need to know the percentage of those who had some vague knowledge of where they spent an hour toning their buttocks the other night.

And, mind you, from the participants’ point of view, this may also be considered more than plausible: they were just doing away activities, and perhaps some may not have even noticed the difference between the Gallery of Kings and the Happy Wellness Gym in Orbassano. Also for the fact that the goal was not even to bring the people of the gyms closer to the museums: the purpose of the initiative, the organizers always declared to La Stampa, was “to identify places and centers in the city that promote physical activity and body care.” And even here, any comment seems superfluous. It is on the attitude of the museum that one should reason at length, at least to understand whether it seems normal and acceptable to the management that the museum lends its side to such grotesque initiatives.

But you know, times are hard, and in order to increase theappeal of museums, anything goes for us now: even turning them into mute stage sets (or rather: into splendid frames, to use a phraseology typical of those who organize such events) to be used for gatherings of zumba lovers. The Egyptian Museum can then provide a virtuous example: water aerobics classes could be organized in the newly reopened maritime theater of Villa Adriana in Tivoli. The Opera della Metropolitana di Siena could consider turning the facade of the Duomo Nuovo into a sports climbing wall (also because from the top there is a “breathtaking view,” to use another original expression). And for refreshment, nothing better than a porchetta festival set up in the Boboli Gardens.

While waiting, one will have to content oneself with Egyptian zumba. And woe betide those who let us know that enthusiastic zumba has already been experienced at the Metropolitan in New York as well: heaven forbid that we pass the urge to look favorably on the most truculent imported idiocies. For serious practices there is always time.

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