A teacher as well as a pioneer, he had a unique style in telling and documenting. His documentaries told about the places he visited and a little about himself. (Piero Angela) A master and a pioneer who had a unique style for presenting and documenting. His documentaries was about locations and places and a little bit about him (Piero Angela)
It was the 70s.
Those were the years of lead. The years when a child shouldn’t be raising.
Those were the years we tried to walk and cycle on Sundays, only because forced by something called austerity.
Those were the years of the historic compromise that the children of that generation remember with the faces of two great men.
Those were the years of “Where is Anna”, of “And the stars are watching”. And a Canzonissima that on TV he warmed up Italian homes until the Christmas holidays.
Everything, for us, was exclusively in shades of gray that today make the memories, even those, in black and white.
But there is something that today I remember in color, even if in reality it was not on TV. The sea of Folco Quilici . TOncora nand my imagination his documentaries are in color. They know of a deep blue that then lulled me and gave me peace. They know of the sun and heavenly places where man is an integral part and never ruler of a world that still had hopes of saving itself from self-destruction.
Those were the years of the Rondine blue fins, a Pinocchio mask, a snorkel with that infernal float that had to avoid the entry of water, and wandering around the seabed in front of Masua. In my mind there were those documentaries with tropical seas full of fish, corals and lots of sharks. And not the ones that Steven Spielberg would one day try to make us hate with his Jaws. I think I was lucky in this. They are from the generation of children who grew up with “Ti-Koyo and his shark”, “Sixth Continent” and “Brother Sea”. I am one of those who still believe in friendship stories between humans and animals and in living respecting the natural environment where we were born and raised. Utopias also given to me by Folco Quilici, who have deeply immersed themselves in my thoughts and have become the foundations of my life.
I don’t think that without his words and images I would have loved in this way my land, my sea. I still remember when I dived in the Red Sea. From the moment I saw that paradise from the mask for the first time, my mind took me back through the years. I felt like that child who listened to that man on TV as he told incredible stories of distant continents and of an underwater world that is still too little known. My happiness was so great that that day I even talked about it with my Swiss divemaster who was looking at me curiously. Mine had been like a dejavu and everything seemed to have already happened down there. I had already seen those backdrops and the emotions were the same. All thanks to that man who still, and now no longer young, continued to tell stories of the sea on TV and to publish many books.
When I heard of his passing, it was a moment of melancholy for me, as if I had suddenly lost a part of myself and, perhaps, that blue-finned child. They called it by a thousand titles. Documentary maker, adventurer, diver, journalist, writer, ma for all of us, children with the blue “Swallows”, Folco Quilici will forever be the Man of the Sea. Good Wind to you Master.
Those were the ‘lead years’ as we called them in Italy. The years when a child should not grow up. In which we went walking and cycling on Sundays, just because someone was unplugging us (years of the oil crisis in the seventies and petrol rationing)
Those were the years of the historic compromise. The children of that generation remember only two great men (Italian politics)
Those were the years of “Dov’è Anna”, of “E le stelle stare a stare” and of a “Canzonissima” (TV series from the seventies) that warmed the houses in autumn until Christmas. Everything was for us exclusively in shades of gray of the black and white TV.
But there was something that I remember in color today, even if in reality it was not on TV. The sea of Folco Quilici. In my imagination, even today, his documentaries are in color. Images of a deep blue that then cradled me and gave me peace. Of sunny and heavenly places where man is an integral part and never dominator of a world that still had hopes of saving itself from self-destruction. It was he, that documentarian, who with his gentle manner, tiptoed into the homes of Italians and taught them to love nature.
These were the years of the Rondine blue diving flippers, a Pinocchio mask, a snorkel with that infernal float to prevent entry of water, and a snorkel through the seabed in front of Masua. In my mind there were those documentaries with tropical seas, full of fish, corals and many sharks. And not those who one day Steven Spielberg would have tried to make us hate with his “Jaws”. I believe that I was lucky in this case. I am from the generation of children who grew up with “Ti-Koyo and his shark”, “Sesto Continente” and “Fratello Mare” (movies). I am one of those who still believe in the stories of friendship, between men and animals and in living in constant respect for the natural environment where we were born and raised. Utopias, given to me by Folco Quilici, who have deepened in my thinking and have become the foundations of my life.
I do not believe that without his words and his documentaries I would have loved my land and the sea in this way. I still remember when I dived in the Red Sea. From the moment I saw that paradise through my mask, my mind brought me back in years. I felt that child listening to the man on TV while telling incredible stories of distant continents and a submarine world still little known. My happiness was so profound that when I spoke to my Swiss divemaster that day he was looking at me curiously. Mine had been like a dejavu and everything had already happened down there. I had already seen those backdrops and the emotions were the same. All thanks to the man who still, in his old age, continued to tell stories of the sea on TV and publish many books.
When I heard of his death, a sense of melancholy came over me, as if I had lost a part of me and, perhaps, that child with blue diving flippers. He went under many names: Documentarist, adventurer, diver, journalist, writer. But for all of us, children with the blue Rondine flipper, Folco Quilici will forever be the Man of the Sea. Fair wind and following seas to you, Master.