The Museum of Time

A Bakelite wall telephone, two machine tools from the 1950s and 1960s, "pizzas" of film reels, wooden crates with Chinese writing lost in the mists of time and geographical space, and memorabilia in the form of paintbrushes in their original packaging: in the Museum of Time, these rare pieces are essential components of the lengthy historical puzzle of which Cinghiale is composed.

In the first room, a number of these precious artefacts can be seen (the phone hides a neat little technological trick: on lifting the receiver, visitors can listen to an introduction to the tour), with others scattered around the entrance and in the hall. They serve to bear witness to the ongoing relationship between the company, the most innovative technologies and the least explored markets. From the very beginning, innovation has been a constant presence.

This is expressed through a hooking machine from the late 1950s, and a vibrating machine from a few years later. In the museum building, the first machine tells the visitor the history of the company, projecting images and videos of people and events that its "memory" has recorded.

Bristles from China were another novel product for an industrial district accustomed to sourcing its raw materials from domestic markets.

From the 1970s onwards, the constant use of sports, radio and television advertising (as confirmed by the old reels of film that were found on the company premises, and restored by the Cineteca di Bologna) caught many entrepreneurs of the time off guard.

1980, meanwhile, was the year which saw the advent of computers in the company. "From one day to the next, we were told: throw away your pens, from now on we'll only be working on computers" recalls Leda Coazzoli, a former employee.

The Cicognara factory champions sustainability through a series of concrete procedures: production is powered by certified wind energy, the plastic used to make paint buckets is recycled and recyclable, the wood of the paintbrush handles is FSC® certified and comes from sustainably-managed forests, and the chemical formula of the bicarbonate of soda paint contains 95% green ingredients.

At the same time, advances in technology are continuing apace: the most recent example of this is the new 4.0 technology robotic plant for full-cycle production of 11,000 flat paintbrushes per day.

Technology is also crucial for marketing and sales: the new Cinghiale showroom features an integrated high-definition camera system, designed to enable customers to connect from anywhere in the world, in order to select a new product, having examined every last detail "live".

Sometimes the stories of a witness, and his or her recollections of everyday life, can describe a certain era so much better than a sepia-toned photo album ever could.

Luisa Passerini and Marisa Bertoli, now over eighty, were part of the Pennelli Cinghiale adventure from the very beginning. Their memory remains vivid and unfaltering, despite the passage of time. Both were manual workers for the company, first in the old factory and then in the new one. Another thing they have in common is the fact that they met their husbands there, and worked side by side in the Cicognara warehouses. And a third shared experience - they realised their lifelong dream, to buy a house, thanks to the support of Boldrini and his partners.

Luisa's memory is precise - she was taken on by the company in 1953. For her, Cinghiale initially represented a place of social liberation, and later a place of security for herself and her children. "When there was an inventory to be done, we would rush to put ourselves forward, because we were paid overtime. We worked so hard, hand-tying the bristle tufts for the paintbrushes. But we liked it, we needed to work." And when they start thinking about buying a house, it was Signor Boldrini who gave them an advance. And she has fondly held on to the medal that the company gave her when she retired.

Marisa also started working at the factory in the 1950s, and remained there until retirement. Her job enabled her to be independent, something that was extremely important to her, and something that she would hold dear even after she married. Her husband was a colleague, and they met at the factory. She put him straight immediately, clarifying: "Look, I'm going to carry on working, because I don't want to depend on anyone." It is no coincidence that she herself recounts that, before the Christmas holidays, when they came out of the gates of Cinghiale and bumped into the girls from other factories in the area, they would make fun of her and her co-workers: "We were given a panettone, didn't you get anything?". And Marisa replied: "They gave us a 13th month pay bonus - better than a panettone!".

Isn't this riposte worth more than a welfare agreement?

"A young man with little money and lots of dreams": this is possible the best description that exists of the young Alfredo Boldrini. This was how he was described by the person who knew him best, the love of his life - Valeria, his wife.

The childhood and youth of the founder of Pennelli Cinghiale has been written and spoken about at length. Like a famous novel, his personal and professional journey is pieced together from the fragments of the memories of those who met him, those who loved him, those who admired or even envied him.

This biography of many voices begins when Alfredo, born in 1920, was just seven years old, and began to work for a living. The horse-drawn cart that would set off towards the south from Cicognara is a memory shared by many of Boldrini's friends and relatives. There are those who state that, after leaving the impoverished countryside where the main production was broomcorn, he would arrive in Parma and the Apuan Alps, and alongside his father and brother, would stop in church squares on Sundays to sell his load of brooms. "And they would not come back until the goods had all been sold." It was a very humble trade, but he needed it to learn the ropes. After finishing primary school, he continued to work here and there as he could. Then, he was called up. Boldrini ended up in Turin, but other witnesses say he didn't spend his free time chasing girls. Instead, he rented a space, filled it with goods (still brooms at this stage), and found homes for them with the housewives of Piedmont. After the war, on his return to Cicognara, the paintbrush and broom market was in its infancy and Boldrini was one of the first to throw himself into the sector he knew best - brooms.

The first team in his factory consisted of five female workers and a Dalmatian refugee accountant.

This number may seem small, but in the decades to come, they would achieve one milestone after another for the Mantua-based company. Its owner was the archetypical figure of the self-made man from the Po valley at that time. Despite his success and prosperity, he never tired of getting to know his employees one by one, finding out about their needs and concerns, and he was always ready to teach his representatives the art he knew best - that is, the art of selling. His instinct was one of his defining traits, and one which features prominently in all the stories about him.

His quest for distant and unexplored markets was the force that drove him onwards, and it was this instinct that led him to go as far as China to find the valuable raw materials he need for the paintbrushes. His relationship with the Maoist-led Imperial China emerges in Cinghiale documents, and in the remaining crates that once contained the bristles. By extension, it is no coincidence that when the Republic of China established diplomatic relations with Italy, Boldrini was one of the few Italian industrialists invited to the opening of Beijing's embassy in Rome; something he would always be proud of.

Meanwhile, in Cicognara, everything had changed. Since the 1970s, it had gained the nickname "the town of billionaires" (originally coined by an article in L'Espresso in 1971). Statistically, the hamlet where paintbrush and broom factories were growing in number had the same number of cars per capita as the United States. A documentary buried deep in the RAI film archives (an old "Tv7") shows the outlandish architecture of some of the villas built by its newly-rich inhabitants. Boldrini built himself a house, too (clean lines, no frills), within walking distance of the company headquarters. In the town, he cut a distinctive figure due to the fact that he always wore a jacket and tie - and a Borsalino hat, naturally - and in the summer, a light-coloured suit (Boldrini was convinced that clothes make the man, so he used to give his representatives their first elegant suit as a gift in which to go and meet customers). His cars were not to be sniffed at either: an Ivory-coloured Jaguar, a flaming red Lancia Aurelia and other gems. His weaknesses included food ("He liked to eat well, perhaps to make up for the hardships of his youth"), and the Inter and Mantova football teams, as well as the habit of going to the barber on a regular basis - the latter saw to his needs for decades, and Boldrini would recommend a few good stock market options to him from time to time. The rest was work, work and more work, which he shared with his wife Valeria.

SO MUCH MORE THAN A WIFE

A "family" business can be many things. In the case of Pennelli Cinghiale, the company's story is inextricably linked to the figure of Mrs. Valeria Madesani Boldrini. Born in 1922, she was the daughter of a Po fisherman, and lived in a house near the river as a girl. She was tall and slim, with slightly Asiatic features.. She would tell her family that Alfredo would come and call out to her at night under her window, trying not to be heard by her parents. One night, during a clandestine meeting, he said to her "Here, this is for you", and handed her something that was rather poorly wrapped in a piece of paper. In the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of a small gold watch. She would have many more - valuable ones, too - later down the line, but this gift was the only one she would wear.

Valeria was a strong, scrappy woman. She was respected and somewhat feared by the factory workers, although she did bring them 5 o'clock tea every day, and confidently managed maids, housekeepers, nannies, gardeners. And she could certainly hold her own with her husband. While Alfredo was away on business, she would secretly take his drivers' licence. He did not want her to, and was very upset when he returned: At that time, women generally did not drive, and Valeria was one of the first to do so. But in the end she won the battle, and in her Alfa spider, Valeria would often drive to Cremona - she would always boast of having the same milliner as the singer Mina.
She cut an extremely elegant figure, often in long dresses, and played an important role in the success of the company. A short description by a family member describes her better than a thousand words: "She was not a grandmother as one might imagine," explain her granddaughters, "she was more like a queen of Egypt."

The word "iconic" has often been used to define the "Great Brush" commercial, with the painter pedalling through the traffic of Milan. And it's no exaggeration: that explosive exchange of quips ("You don't need a big brush, but a great brush") has stood the test of time. Ignazio Colnaghi first came up with it at the Cicognara factory, on a day in 1982 that many still remember, because he shouted at the top of his voice: "We've got it!".

Colnaghi had long been one of the best brains in television advertising, which at that point in time, was still an emerging sector in Italy. An actor from the Piccolo Teatro, dubbing artist and creator of sketches for Carosello, the Milanese creative had invented and given voice to the famous Calimero Pulcino Nero twenty years previously, who was known for his two catchphrases: "Ava come lava" (Ava like lava) and "È un’ingiustizia però" (But it's not fair!) had struck a real chord with the Italian people.

The success of the "Cinghiale" ad, then, was not a random occurrence or a stroke of luck - rather, it was the result of the specific entrepreneurial decisions taken by Boldrini, who invested in the best out there, placing all his faith in the capacity of television to penetrate key markets. Marketing researchers and academics have carried out detailed analyses of the innovation of that short film, identifying a number of standards of quality, functionality and vision: the protagonists move through real traffic that engages those watching, and the pun lies in the fact that in Italian, the change in position of the same adjective ("pennello grande, grande pennello") changes the meaning of the word, emphasising quality over quantity; the figures of the policeman and the painter are taken directly from everyday life, and despite a scene that could easily be described as surreal due to the presence of that giant paintbrush, are immediately recognisable.

The advertisement holds a place of honour in the company's Museum of Time. But on digging deeper into the past, in the documents and materials preserved at Cicognara, we realise that this was a high point in a journey that began much earlier. Boldrini believed in advertising and image, making him a pioneer among other industrialists of small or medium-sized companies.

The boar symbol is part of this - which, as the workers know, has very little to do with the direct production of paintbrushes. But the name is highly evocative.

Soon after, TV arrived on the scene. In the Cinghiale films restored by the L'Immagine Ritrovata photo laboratory - perhaps the most qualified in Europe, with links to the Cineteca di Bologna - we see the footage of 1970s sketches, with elegant wives and hard-working husbands, innocent, joyful children and then, in 1981, the great Milanese actor Piero Mazzarella.

The advent of the "Great Brush" saw the explosion of the brand throughout Italy, and its influence is still being felt today. Proof, if any was needed, of this: actor and model Francesco Papi, who played the policeman, returned to Piazza Castello, where the advert was filmed, dressed in uniform and holding a paintbrush. Many recognised the character, including a young couple who weren't even born when the advertisement came out.

Duty Gorn was born in Milan, the city where he currently lives and works. He works not only with canvas, but also with three-dimensional media, murals and performances, creating art that is immediately recognisable, dynamic and clearly delineated, both with regard to his style and the subjects he depicts.

His works are exhibited in art galleries and institutional spaces.

www.dutygorn.com

Installation - 2022

The purpose of this work is to draw the viewer inside, eliciting an emotional response and triggering memories linked to the colours. As the artist himself explains: "The project is the result of a process of meticulous research and a profound aesthetic sense of reinterpretation of materials, and the way these are used and re-used." The paintbrushes used to create the Museum were transformed into a new artistic form, breathing new life into them.

Acrylic on layered canvases 159x162 cm - 2022

This collection of works signals a change, an process of evolution that begins with history. This gives rise to a visual chronology interspersed with a series of lines, which, like the hands of a clock, mark the passing of time. A glimpse that spans the past and the future.

The mural, entitled "Time Mirror", covers the façade of the Pennelli Cinghiale production plant in Cicognara which is visible from Via Milano 222, and was created solely using Cinghiale paints, paintbrushes and rollers.

A set of coloured lines and a woman's face - two elements that have always been central to the works of Duty Gorn.

The brush strokes and style echo graffiti art and the movements that marked 20th century art history - Pop Art first and foremost.

The lines pick up those in the works that Duty Gorn has also created inside the Pennelli Cinghiale building, thus creating a pathway that connects the interior and the exterior: they are designed to create a distortion in time, a sense of dejà-vu, where the future returns with a feeling of familiarity with the past, a play on time that disrupts the space-time continuum. Coloured lines cut across the surface and intersect each other like rays of light, unfurling across the space and beyond the edges, continuing into infinity. They create a controlled chaos that has a powerful aesthetic impact, revealing itself as a solution that reconciles and pacifies the disorder of the reality that surrounds us.

The female face, the true protagonist of the mural, captures the observer’s attention and transports them into their own vibrant dimension, pulsing with flashes of light and dynamic energy, which is perfectly balanced against the coloured lines that traverse the surface.

The Museum of Time can be visited by appointment from Monday to Friday..

Here, you can discover the history of our brand and take a closer look at archive documents, personal accounts, rare examples of industrial archaeology and the awards we have won, as well as the extraordinary works of art that artist Duty Gorn has created especially for us.