Alessandro Silverj

PRESENCE
My name is Alessandro Silverj, and I am a photographer born in Rome. My education encompasses the realms of classical literature and philosophy, subjects that have contributed to shaping my sensibility over the years. It is within this journey that I glimpsed and embraced photography, a means of expression and exploration that has become the pulsating heart of my creativity.

The fusion between different analog techniques characterizes my work, which stands out for its deep and authentic autobiographical dimension. This creative journey, often extended over time and embraced for years, constitutes the guiding thread that links the different phases of my life. Photography plays for me the role of a mirror of interiority, revealing deep and hidden truths of my inner world.
PRESENCE

Between the 15th and 18th centuries, fear and superstition took deep root in the cities and countryside across Italy and Europe, giving rise to a period of systematic persecution now known as the witch hunts. These were not isolated outbreaks of hysteria, but rather the result of complex social, religious, and political dynamics that converged into a centuries-long war against those deemed “other.”

Women—especially midwives, healers, widows, prostitutes, the poor, or simply those who defied the expectations of their time—became the main targets of this violence. Accusations could arise from the smallest pretext: a failed harvest, a child's fever, a neighbor's grudge. People spoke of women casting curses, causing illness, souring milk, stealing livestock, or summoning storms. But behind these accusations lay far deeper cultural tensions: about nature, sexuality, power, and the fragile balance of daily survival.
"On August 29, 1523, Margherita, known as Madregna, was accused of witchcraft and subjected to rope torture. In fear of further agony, she confessed to practicing sorcery and taking part in a sabbath.

She was condemned and burned alive at the stake.
Her property was confiscated and redistributed according to the customs and privileges upheld by the Inquisition.
Centuries later, her presence still echoes."
Ancient rites that diverged from Catholic doctrine, folk medicine, and any expression of female autonomy were systematically recast as signs of diabolical activity. Women—especially those with unusual traits or behavior, like a squint, a limp, irritability, or rare church attendance—were seen as suspicious, threatening the moral and spiritual order. This climate of paranoia, often fueled by local authorities and religious institutions, served as a deliberate tool of control.
The Inquisition and civil tribunals built legal systems to identify, prosecute, and punish so-called witches. Under torture, suspects were forced to confess not only to acts of maleficium, but also to attending nocturnal sabbaths, making pacts with the devil, and belonging to secret sects. The goal was not just punishment, but to produce confessions that validated the Church’s worldview.

These persecutions were grounded in 15th-century demonological texts such as Malleus Maleficarum (1487), Formicarius(1475), and De Lamiis et Phitonicis Mulieribus (1489). These treatises fused superstition with legal reasoning, portraying witchcraft—especially among women—as a systemic threat to Christian society.
Though some men, children, and even clergy were accused, nearly two-thirds of all witch trials targeted women—shaping judicial practices for generations.
Interrogations centered on women’s bodies, searching for devil’s marks, signs of corruption, or sexual deviance. The trials became spectacles of suffering. While the stake remains the most infamous symbol—representing total exclusion and damnation—many women were also hanged, beheaded, or died under torture.
The spread of these trials accelerated in the late 15th century, peaking in violence between the late 16th and mid-17th centuries. Gradually, they declined, and by the early 18th century, witch hunts had largely disappeared from Western Europe. Yet the devastation they caused left a deep imprint on collective memory.

Over 110,000 witch trials took place in Western Europe, many ending in execution.
Women who defied control—once labeled witches, later “malacarne”—have long been punished for living freely. Under Italian fascism, the regime revived medieval logic: women who didn’t conform to domestic ideals were confined to asylums. Emotional expression became pathology.
The end of fascism didn’t erase this system. Until 1978, women were still locked away for “bizarre” behavior. The crime of honor was only abolished in 1981. Cultural control outlasted legal change.

Today, femicide continues this history of violence. In 2021, 109 women were killed in Italy—mostly by men they knew. Institutional failures persist: few victims report abuse, and fewer receive protection.

A simple search for the words “burned alive” reveals dozens of recent stories of Italian women who suffered this fate. A brutal, ritual act—aimed not only at physical destruction but also the symbolic erasure of the woman who dares to say no. In all of these cases, the perpetrators are men.
  • Sara Di Pietrantonio, 22, in her car in Rome, May 29, 2016.
  • A 31-year-old woman, burned in her garden in Castellammare di Stabia, January 2021.
  • A 51-year-old woman in Roccasecca dei Volsci, province of Latina.
  • Mina Safine, 45, burned in Brescia, September 2020.
  • Maria Antonietta Rositani, burned on March 12, 2019, in Reggio Calabria—she survived.
  • Violeta Senchiu, 32, Sala Consilina, Salerno, November 4, 2018.
  • Vania Vannucchi, 46, Campo di Marte, Lucca, August 2, 2016.
  • Fabiana Luzzi, 16, stabbed and burned in Corigliano, Cosenza, May 2013.
  • Paola Burci, 18, burned in Rovigo in 2008.
  • Giovanna Comunale, 19, burned in Trapani, August 2003.
  • Graziella Mansi, 8, Andria, Bari, burned by eight older boys on August 19, 2000.
They are not random tragedies. They speak of an archaic, repeated, and socially accepted violence— an endless slaughter to which we are increasingly indifferent.

The echo of Margherita’s death, burned alive on an anonymous day in September 1523, still resonates in the history of our country—a deep wound that time has failed to heal.
Text Anna Laza
Alessandro Silverj Instagram
More photographs and videos check in our Instagram