Fantastical folk crafts: costumes and rituals of the Italian islands

Animal hides, monstrous masks and cattle bell capes all have a place in Gli Isolani (The Islanders) – a new book from celebrated British photographer Alys Tomlinson, who won the Taylor Wessing Portrait Prize in 2020. Her new series of austere, black and white portraits documents the deep connection between people, place, faith and craft traditions. Ahead of her exhibition at HackelBury Fine Art in London (7 September to 29 October 2022), she told us more about the ancient festivals and the accompanying hand-crafted costumes she captured over two years.

How did this project come about?

It started in Venice, first inspired by a travel guide commission many years ago, which involved photographing islands in the Venetian Lagoon. Exploring the histories and rituals of the area led me to the mountain villages in Sicily and Sardinia. The costumes and masks I photographed there are worn for various festivities and celebrations, including Settimana Santa (Holy Week) and on annual saint days. Many of their rituals and traditions reference the land and the relationship between man, animal and the cyclical nature of the seasons.  

The people in the photographs are all from remote, tight-knit communities, where the costumes are treated like sacred objects and worn with great pride. Many of them have been passed down through generations – the wearers are all siblings, cousins, uncles and aunts. They’re often worn by young men who work as bakers, shepherds or factory workers by day – but then transform into otherworldly beings when in costume.

Who makes these hand-crafted disguises? 

They are often made by the grandmothers and great-grandmothers of the community, using a variety of local materials including sheepskin, antlers, animal bones, cattle bells, velvet, cotton and wood.

Some have a more raggedy, homemade feel, while others – such as the traditional costumes worn by women in Piana degli Albanesi in Sicily – are exquisitely crafted and rich in detail, with precious jewels, ornate silver buckles and silk embroidery. Wooden masks are all hand-carved with subtle differences in style and finish. 

I photographed a group in San Fratello in Sicily dressed in elaborate helmets, with hand-beaded and decorated military-style jackets – their cloth masks feature a long black tongue with a cross embroidered on the end and a horse tail hanging from their backs.  

In Ortueri in Sardinia, I photographed a group wearing leather boots, black cotton head scarves and cover their faces in soot. Their sheepskin costumes are adorned with heavy cowbells to signify the central role of cattle and the pastoral. As a group they embody a herd of animals, dancing through the village and nearby fields with bells clanging and clashing. In Ottana, Sardinia, I photographed people wearing anthropomorphic wooden masks, white sheepskins and black neckerchiefs, who prowl the rural fields with sticks – representing farmers' challenges and relationship with the land.

You spent two years capturing the people you photographed. What did you learn?

In these small communities, perhaps unsurprisingly, traditions run very deep. It is not always easy to pinpoint the exact origins of the festivities and the costumes associated with them. Even within the local groups there is discussion and debate about the true meaning of the celebrations, which has created contested narratives. Many of the costumes and associated rituals and celebrations date back to pre-Christian times, and the stories they relate to have evolved over centuries.  

There are some costumes in which the relationship with folklore and fables is clearer. For instance, Sa Filonzana in Ottana, Sardinia is a masked, hunchbacked old woman, clad in a black dress and shawl. Some say she is based on the ancient goddess Clotho, who represents fate. As she walks among the performers she also spins wool, which represents the thread of human life. 

Sarule in Sardinia is home to the Maschere a Gattu: a tradition that sees female villagers dress in intricate handmade costumes and veils that represent birth, death and the union between two individuals. The name refers to the women dressing like ‘gatte’ (cats) with their doubled, dark skirts worn around the face and neck.  

The traditions represent good and evil, the sacred and profane, salvation and triumph. Many of the themes expressed through the costumes and masks are present in the Italian folktales by Italo Calvino, where readers enter a world of mysticism, magic and adventure. In my book Gli Isolani, the embodied figures exist between fiction and reality, as characters we may have met before in our own imagination. 

Did you encounter any challenges in trying to understand the cultural context of these traditions?

There are so many different cultural influences on these islands, which are expressed through these costumes and traditions. Many of them are hundreds of years old, and some can seem outmoded and misaligned with some contemporary views. For example, some of the costumes refer to the influence of Judaism – and these are quite sinister, so you could see them as a negative depiction of the Jewish beliefs. I am always cautious not to photograph anything strongly derogatory towards a person, faith, belief race or culture.

As an outsider to these contexts, how did you go about ensuring the people you were photographing were comfortable and that you weren’t misinterpreting their traditions?

I recently completed an MA in the anthropology of pilgrimage, which gave me a better understanding of how to organise these projects sensitively, and how important it is to have mutual trust and respect. Even if I don’t share people’s opinions, which was the case when I was documenting faith, this leads to collaboration.

For this project, I worked with a great documentary film producer who knows the language, the people, the culture, the communities. She helped me build relationships with the people I wanted to photograph by showing them my work and process, as well the large format Victorian style camera I use. It’s a slow and considered way of working, which people respond well to because they’re not used to it – they’re accustomed to photography being instantaneous.

Aside from this, many of these precious costumes and traditions have been locked away for years due to the pandemic, so everyone was very excited about gathering together and sharing their cultures and traditions with me.

What is the role of these traditions today – and what might be their future?

They bring the community together and strengthen relationships between the generations, serving as a reminder of the past and preserving the human connections that bind young and old. They are central to the communities in which they exist, often bringing every household out to the cobbled streets of their villages and small towns to witness the parades and dancing that ensues.  

Superstition and luck are also important factors in the celebrations – good fortune and health is thought to come to those who participate. As young people leave for the mainland and for bigger cities, it is difficult to know how much longer these traditions can be maintained. But for now they are very much alive, and a visceral reminder of the importance of community in an increasingly discordant world.  

Gli Isolani (The Islanders) will be published in November 2022. The photographs will be exhibited at Hacklebury Fine Art, London from 7 September to 29 October 2022