Ulysses wept, thinking of his distant homeland,
Achilles wept at the death of Patroclus,
noble hearts wept in ages past,
but today we want to resemble machines more and more,
and we no longer want — or can — cry.
Ulysses wept, thinking of his distant homeland,
Achilles wept at the death of Patroclus,
Pericles wept at the trial of Aspasia,
Paul wept in silence as Francesca told her story,
Lincoln wept at the difficulties of war,
Churchill wept, in public, in moments of great stress and tension,
noble hearts wept in ages past,
but today we want to resemble machines more and more,
and we no longer want — or can — cry.
Studies show that crying — whether an expression of pain, fear or joy — is beneficial as an emotional release, though a study by the University of Pittsburgh found that men cry on average five times less than women. The reasons are firstly biological — testosterone is an inhibitor of crying — but above all cultural, as we are immersed in a social context that often associates male tears with weakness.
Crying, however, is a universal language, a form of communication that transcends cultural and social barriers. To deny men the expression of their pain or joy is a form of emotional oppression. Reclaiming the right to cry is, in fact, an act of courage, acceptance and self-determination.
The project simulates the structure of the museum apparatus: it consists of an imaginary archive where all unshed tears are collected, catalogued and classified by the years in which they were not cried, alongside a line of merchandise — complete with a logo and a slogan — that ironically challenges the myth of "toxic masculinity", asserting the universal right to shed tears.
