Durchgangsland

Fortezza (or Franzensfeste) is a village in a valley that never sees the sun. Most of the work is done at night or underground. Even in summer, it feels like winter. A place in the twilight zone with a long tradition of buildings that outlast those who constructed them. The emperor is said to have knocked on the stone walls during an inspection of his new fortress and remarked that they were so expensive he thought they were made of silver – a noble gesture. Others couldn’t care less about the recognition for the workers; they simply leave bloody handprints on the pillars of highway bridges. Mussolini built a dam, causing a village to sink into a lake. Today, a railway tunnel is being constructed for Europe. For those who build and maintain it, the infrastructure is a curse, but it also has its charms. People come from far away, fleeing oppressive fathers and political regimes, finding work and a strange sense of community in not belonging. Work is good, they say. They have made their own choices.