LIVING WITH THE GODS THROUGH THE EYES OF ELIAS CANETTI
Nicolò Michielin Images courtesy of C2CAmid the economic and industrial boom spurred by World War I, Giovanni Agnelli commissioned the design of the new FIAT factory, the Lingotto, in 1915, which is now the theatre of C2C. For decades, Lingotto symbolized the assembly line where individuals lost their identities, becoming part of something greater, a place where the human moreover encountered an alienation from the outside world in the repeated hallucination of gesture. Now, where Dean Blunt and Mica Levi’s sounds resonate, thousands once bowed to the deities of capital—distant, unknown, intangible.
This year 41,000 people from 47 different countries have gathered in those same places, huge and dark, wounded here and there by comets and neon, vibrations and sounds, once again going to lose their singularity to become part of something else like the servant workers of capitalist Molock in the last century. But the gods were now others, who had come down to earth to live among men but no longer found them. In 1922, a year before Lingotto was inaugurated by Victor Emmanuel II, 17-year-old Elias Canetti, future Nobel Prize winner, witnessed a protest in Frankfurt against the assassination of Rathenau. That day, he sensed a mysterious pull of the crowd, akin to gravitational force, planting the seed of what would later emerge as Crowds and Power.
As Canetti suggests in this book whose writing engaged the writer for 38 years, when individuals unite into a mass, their individuality tends to cancel out, a renunciation of it is subscribed to, and there is a loss of autonomy that neutralizes individual differences, creating an apparent equality among participants. At C2C, this dynamic is evident: participants merge into a collective whole. The immersive environment and the absence of clear boundaries foster the feeling of being part of a totality, in which each person loses his or her individuality in favor of a shared experience, where the individual is no longer “himself or herself,” but the piece of a body having a common experience. The question now arises, then, but what is this new entity? Is it the unicum that looks gods in the face as their equals? Or is it that same god itself sought by man who is part of it? Is this the LIVING WITH THE GODS that towers over the screens as tautological revelation?
Canetti also observes that the human desire to be part of something larger fuels the formation of crowds, satisfying a need for security and belonging. Indeed, the unique entity formed within the Turin festival may serve as a refuge, an escape from daily pressures, and an experience of community without apparent hierarchies. Music, energy, and shared euphoria form a psychological shield, allowing people to lose themselves in the experience, living as a collective entity.
The festival lineup of prominent names touches on another Canettian dynamic of power akin to the charismatic leader’s influence over the masses. The artist on stage, in a sense, becomes a figure guiding the crowd’s collective energy, channeling emotional potency and shaping a shared experience. This can be seen as a manifestation of the power exercised over a crowd, which, through music’s immediacy, submits to a group logic that can be all-encompassing.
Another aspect that Canetti explores is the relation of the mass with death and sacrifice. Although it is not necessarily a physical act of sacrifice, the experience within C2C can be seen as a kind of “symbolic death” of the individual. When a person merges into the mass, he or she temporarily loses a sense of self, and this can be understood as a form of ego annihilation. The search for ecstasy, the total surrender to sound perceptions, can be read as an attempt to “die” of the self in order to be reborn in the context of the unicum. Music, light and darkness itself, become symbols of a transit, a passage from one state of consciousness to another.
This unique experience created at the festival, despite its apparent lightness, conceals complex dynamics involving power, the dissolution of individuality, and the pursuit of a collective experience that, while celebrating freedom, can also embody forms of control and manipulation.
We asked some of the festival participants, some of the members who more or less knowingly became part of the unicum, what C2C represented to them.
These were their answers:
“C2C is a festival that doesn’t need wow effects of any kind. No installations or grand productions: it all comes down to the endless associations created within that incubator space where the environment is defined primarily by the contrast between designer lights and the void of darkness. Spectator-artist, spectator-other spectators. A great lineup doesn’t make culture, but the idea of creating an event that mirrors contemporary societal interests does—and in this, C2C is undoubtedly the best.”
Bianca Felicori
“C2C was the perfect escape from the endless hustle of work, a chance to just lose myself in a timeless space focused on music, art, and the moment. It was three days of pure immersion, necessary to truly absorb the artists and sounds that C2C curated so well. Reconnecting with a vibe hard to find in Milan gave me an incredible sense of freedom and connection to these impactful artists. It was an experience in every sense: raw, freeing, essential, and powerful. We need more of this energy.”
Zara Carini
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“C2C was a detox from everyday formalities—time spent feeding the soul with evocative and suggestive energies, fueled by artists’ music and the new friends met.”
Sara Marino
“A cinematic show made of neon lights and overwhelming sounds, bringing together thousands of different people: a sensory feast.”
Luca Paolantonio
“For me, C2C represented a space of distorted escapism. The people I encountered, the ones I knew and the ones I didn’t, seemed as fleeting as the lights in the corridor. I wish I remembered more since alteration became a synonym for engagement. Dark, steamy, branded. Ready to return to Parisian-looking buildings at the first light of day. And repeat.”
Tomas Ayerbe
“It was a melting pot of music, avant-garde, fashion, and culture set against an almost brutalist backdrop that highlighted artists who were, for me, a delightful discovery. An artistic experimentation lab, a journey where you lose track of time and lose yourself only to find yourself enriched with a collective energy and connection. The visuals were also noteworthy!”
Giosuè Napolitano
“This was my first time at C2C, and I knew little about it. I’d only heard random rants about things like it being hard to take a piss and the sound supposedly not being that great. A friend offered me a sponsored ticket on October 2nd, and I figured I’d never have gone if I’d had to pay, since I’m not really into techno. So, I accepted, to check it off my ex-party-girl list and figure it out for myself.
First thought: Turin is amazing. Milan should be Turin. Turin should kill Milan. Second thought: big. Big space, big crowd, big sense of feeling a bit lost. Romy’s set was cool; it gave me those high school XX feels. I wasn’t really into them back then, but all my friends were, so it weirdly felt like polka dot tights and Jager bombs, in a way.
Then there was a set I didn’t recognize, and I got extremely, extremely bored, since, again, I’m not that into techno. I realized I’m really not much of a party girl anymore — surprise, surprise. Plus, I don’t like raver fashion and try to avoid drugs. I’d rather see silk and gowns and have a fancy snack at the club — like olives and a spicy margarita. I wanted to go home, despite all the free long drinks my friend had illegally snagged. My fellow partygoers tried to get me to loosen up and even gave me something to help, but it didn’t work. I think I was too tense, plus I’m probably a control freak. Not sure, but my brain basically cock-blocked the drugs. I guess I’m just not much fun at parties if I can’t enjoy live instruments or at least recognize a group of friends wherever I look. Also, all my friends were higher than me. Classy-c.
After an anxiety attack (an extrovert I didn’t know was talking to me, calling me “queen”) while queuing for an obscure veggie burger that tasted like cardboard with ketchup, I went back in. The bathroom situation wasn’t that bad: we managed to find some VIP toilets and sneak in. AG Cook’s set was pretty cool — overly cool, maybe. I might have spiraled a bit for a good twenty minutes and felt part of that big space, where thousands of people I didn’t know were moving together to a massive, overwhelming sound that blended faces, gestures, and forces into collective awe. A contained pool of deep waves, connecting beneath the surface — like that goddamn Peter Saville’s pulsar stacked plot, but with molly mixed in. Only then did I feel like I was starting to understand club culture — sort of. Or maybe it was just the drugs hitting for a few seconds. Still, I managed to rationalize away any spark of letting go I had in me and left in the middle of the set to grab a scooter before the cool zombie crowd poured out.
It was a fun night, I guess. But it’s not really my cup of tea, since I prefer live old-sad-bastard music — sorry, reader.”
Aurora Manni
“C2C represented a bubble away from the outside world, an utopic place where tongues and bodies interlaced, dancing until dark became light. It became synonym with freedom, collectiveness and self expression. A series of fleeting moments that felt life changing.”
Carlota Lopez de Carvalho
“After years of hating the idea of clubbing at Lingotto, this year, for the first time, I surrendered to its charm. The magic of Spizzico and all the closed chains with quirky neon signs, the endless loops of escalators where you get blissfully lost, the way the corridors lit by Anonima/Luci help you escape from some heartbreak or musical disappointment. The thought that a few pavilions over, where Artissima rests, there’s an Ivana Bašić sculpture interacting with you, influencing the way you bounce along to the bass. Last year, while waiting in line for the portable toilets, I ran into Luca Guadagnino and Josh O’Connor. I kept looking for them again this year. I didn’t find them, but in that same line, I met some wonderful girls with whom we shared eyeliner, lipstick, and a few life lessons. If you’re here, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”
Francesca Faccani
“At C2C, an atmosphere inspires a desire to explore new horizons. It’s more than just a festival; it’s a unique space where people gather, driven by a shared need to look beyond the ordinary. Surrounded by performances that blend visual art and sound, I felt Turin pulsating with an almost mystical energy. The city is becoming a cultural vanguard, transforming into a stage where a sense of belonging and community fills the air—something hard to find elsewhere. The community within C2C flows together, united by the goal of being part of something extraordinary.”
Alessandro Benvenuti
“10 years without seeing Turin in daylight – Turin, a nonsense place – Dean Blunt plays Distillers – the only way to see the early c2c shows: working at c2c – early shows are always the best – Snooze Alarm for another 6.5 hours – Dean Blunt plays Pantera – c2c offices, not the best place if you’re an anxious folk – but you’ll find the best people inside – 178.24GB not exactly what I hoped for – Dean Blunt plays Incubus – pic of a column to give someone a meetup spot in Lingotto, sadly it looks exactly the same as the other 16 – Monday return train always comes with a brutal fever, but hey, you asked for it, so you just suck it up.”
Ilaria Ieie
