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Food Advertising and Italian Colonial Propaganda

Race, gender and sexuality during fascism
Publicité alimentaire et propagande italienne coloniale. Race, genre et sexualité pendant le fascisme.
Gabriele Proglio

Résumés

L’article étudie les principales publicités alimentaires dans lesquelles les corps noirs ont été utilisés pour soutenir la propagande coloniale italienne. Son objectif est de montrer le rôle de la race, du genre et de la sexualité dans la diffusion de divers stéréotypes raciaux et d’imaginaires coloniaux dans la sphère publique. En utilisant la collection de publicités SALCE, est combinée une analyse quantitative et qualitative des sources visuelles. Dans la conclusion, de nouvelles trajectoires historiques possibles sont identifiées pour explorer le rôle de la publicité dans la formation d’un imaginaire public racialisé et sexiste de l’outre-mer en termes de visualité et de goût.

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Texte intégral

People may very well continue to believe that food is an immediate reality (necessity or pleasure), but this does not prevent it from carrying a system of communication; it would not be the first thing that people continue to experience as a simple function at the very moment when they constitute it into a sign.
Roland Barthes,
Toward a Psychosociology of Contemporary Food Consumption, 1961, p. 25, translated into English by Carole Counihan and Penny Van Esterik.

Introduction

1This essay examines Italian food advertising during fascism, from 1922 to 1943. It aims to approach the topic considering the “materiality of racism”, namely the numerous ways through which race, gender, class—and other individual/collective factors (age, ethnicity, generation, etc.)—combine to produce specific taxonomies and genealogies of racialisation, explicit visual representations and consequential forms of power and exploitation. It will adopt an intersectional approach, as theorised by Kimberlé Crenshaw’s analysis of the “stubborn endurance of the structure of white dominance”.1 In particular, the investigation of the visuality of food advertising is devoted to discovering multiple forms of representations and power relations.

  • 2 Edward Said, Orientalism, New York, Penguin Books, 1979, 9.

2In the framework of European colonialism, colonised subjects were represented as inferiors, and overseas territories were viewed as fertile new spaces open to European conquests. After this first act of naming and subjectification, colonial propaganda made way for military invasion. In this specific context, it is shallow, reducing, and belittling to ponder on racism, sexism and other forms of discrimination simply as an image, a representation or an imaginary. This is because a specific image, representation and imagination is not only deeply connected to an oblique relationship of power, dependence and subjectivation/objectivation imposed on black colonised bodies by white Eurocentric gazes: it is part of it. As pointed out by Edward Said, while the Orient—and I would like to add the colonial world—“was almost a European invention”,2 it is precisely with the invention of the colonised subject—and thus through the process of racialisation, sexualisation and other countless forms of discrimination—that Europe re-invented part of its modernity. In this sense, the “materiality of racism” involves social, daily and intimate perceptions of senses: tastes, odours, tactile dimensions, sounds, as well as a large body of images and then again emotions and symbology, desires and repulsions.

3As pointed out, to achieve this level of interpretation, the essay will analyse visual representations of food advertisements: posters, billboards, tags and brochures of the most important collection, though it is not well studied by historiography: Salce, which is located in the Museo Nazionale of Treviso and fully uploaded on a freely accessible website.3 The investigation of this underestimated collection could be a harbinger for a new historical interpretation of Italian colonialism and its legacies. That being said, this essay will limit itself to a critical discourse analysis of the visual sources mentioned above, applying Stuart Hall’s approach,4 namely examining multiple and different racialised and sexualised representations of black bodies. It will attempt to take a broader perspective which seeks to combine studying the role of advertising in the dissemination of Italian colonial propaganda in the public sphere and a social, racialised construction of taste.

4The essay is divided into three parts: the first part is dedicated to a quantitative and qualitative analysis of the Salce collection; this is followed by a section dealing with the study of visual representations; the last part is devoted to proposing a theoretical reflection on the case study and aims to open up a discussion on possible new ways of interpreting the Italian colonial legacy.

Moving beyond the debate, in a third space

5Two research fields are involved in this investigation: on one hand is the history of Italian colonialism from a gender and race perspective; on the other hand is the role of ads in spreading colonial propaganda in the public sphere. In this section the most important contributions in both areas will be mentioned. The last part of this section will be dedicated to listing some topics that have not been yet dealt with and present how the essay intends to cope with the argument.

  • 5 Barbara Sorgoni, Parole e corpi. Antropologia, discorso giuridico e politiche sessuali interraziali (...)
  • 6 Sandra Ponzanesi, ‘The Color of love: madamismo and interracial relationships in the italian coloni (...)
  • 7 See Barbara Spackman, Fascist virilities. rhetoric, ideology, and social fantasy in Italy. Minneapo (...)

6Barbara Sorgoni5 examined the theme of the body during colonialism, paying attention to colonial laws, white Italian soldiers’ sexual desires and the idea of conquest in the Italian imaginary. Sandra Ponzanesi6 focused on interracial relationships in the Italian colonies, explaining the tension between colonised women and Italian soldiers. Looking at food consumption during fascism from a gender perspective, one can observe that the profile of potential consumers interested in buying foods or drinks advertised through a racialised representation of black bodies is certainly that of a man. Or, more precisely, these typologies of advertising refer to concepts of masculinity on which fascism relied to affirm its power.7

  • 8 The Istituto Luce was an Italian film agency, created during Fascism whose aim was to produce films (...)

7Fascist colonial propaganda was dedicated to emphasising the role of the fatherland (Patria, in Italian, the land of the fathers) and it had a civilising mission: these themes were disseminated in the public sphere by both regime propaganda and private narratives through different media (radio, newspapers, Istituto Luce,8 cinema, etc.). It sounds like a masculine therapy in order to face capitalistic modernity. As pointed out by Giulietta Stefani:

  • 9 Giulietta Stefani, Colonia per maschi. Italiani in Africa Orientale: una storia di genere, Verona, (...)

the colonial war in Ethiopia was in fact also the catalytic medium in which fascism tried to channel anxieties and aspirations for a masculine regeneration, attributing to Africa the role of a space for resolving the identity crisis and expressing full masculinity.9

  • 10 See: Barbara Spadaro, Una colonia Italiana. Incontri, memorie e rappresentazioni tra Italia e Libia(...)

8Since the first colonial war in Libya in 1911–1912, ‘abroad’ became a place where masculinity was tested. A concrete example is the idea of a new Italy emerging with the conquest of the fourth shore (la quarta sponda, in Italian), giving Italians who emigrated to America and everywhere else the opportunity to come back home.10 The African dream attracted a heterogeneous group of male profiles and characters: soldiers, aviators, volunteer soldiers, small businessmen and farmers. For different reasons, they all considered the colony as a way to restore their spirits, as a fulfilment of a masculine attitude that found no possibilities for expression in Italy.

9As Ruth Ben Ghiat wrote about the 1935 war,

  • 11 Ruth Ben-Ghiat, Fascist Modernities. Italy, 1922–1945, Berkeley, University of California Press, 20 (...)

the fascist policy of “demographic colonisation” that foresaw the creation of permanent Italian settlements would not only solve Italy’s land hunger problem but would also begin the repopulation of East Africa as a white European space. More broadly, the conquest of Ethiopia created a new forum for the expression of existing fears about mass society and modernity.11

10Fascism made a particular effort to counter the urban model, by viewing the metropolis as a context corrupting Italian racial roots. On the contrary, the colony and Africa were an open space for possible new beginnings, where Fascist man could express himself by proving his masculinity and virility in making a relevant contribution to achieve the conquest of African land.

  • 12 Barbara Spadaro, Una colonia italiana. Incontri, memorie e rappresentazioni tra Italia e Libia, Mil (...)
  • 13 See: Robert Young, White mythologies. writing history and the West, New York, Routledge, 2004; Gaia (...)

11This “desire for Africa” happened both symbolically and in searching for sensorial experiences, reconnecting Fascist man with the epic deeds of the mythological ancestors of Imperial Rome. Or rather, this was the colonial propaganda model offered to the Italians. As pointed out by Barbara Spadaro: “sexuality is recognised as an essential field of observation for the asymmetrical differential constitution of gender, race, class, outside and within Europe”.12 Adopting a gaze on whiteness,13 it is possible to list and organise a genealogy of subjects who were classified in terms of colour, race, gender. In this sense, Gaia Giuliani writes this reflection on the fascist regime:

  • 14 Ivi, 24.

the concept of the Italian race was able, from a discursive point of view, to displace and position blackness outside the national borders of Italianness as Mediterraneaness so as to distinguish it from the racial identity of the colonised (Mediterranean, but African), also invoking the Romanity (biological-historical-cultural) that made its character white.14

  • 15 Carmine Conelli, Il rovescio della nazione. La costruzione coloniale dell’idea di Mezzogiorno, Napo (...)
  • 16 Gaia Giuliani, Monica Di Barbora, Vincenza Perilli, Tatiana Petrovich Njegosh, Tavola Rotonda. Visu (...)
  • 17 Gaia Giuliani, Il colore della nazione, Milano-Firenze, Le Monnier-Mondadori, 2015.

12This reasoning works when Italianness refers to the colonies or the colonial world (such as , Tunisia, Egypt, places of migration during the nineteenth century); in the case of Southern Italy as Carmine Conelli explained,15 the public narrative about the colour line identified not only black or brown subjects but also characteristics corresponding to African peoples (idle individuals, dedicated to deception, without morals, ambiguous and lascivious in behaviour). The Italian debate analysed these aspects from many perspectives: the racial narratives and construction of Italian beauty,16 and the visual representation from an intersectional point of view.17

  • 18 Bianca Gaudenzi, Fascismi in vetrina. Pubblicità e modelli di consumo nel Ventennio e nel Terzo Rei (...)
  • 19 Simone Cinotto, Gastrofascismo e impero. Il cibo nell’Africa Orientale Italiana, 1935-1941, Milano, (...)
  • 20 Alfredo Mignemi, Immagine coordinata per un impero. Etiopia 1935-1936, Torino, Forma, 1983.
  • 21 Ferdinando Fasce, Elisabetta Bini, Bianca Gaudenzi, Comprare per credere. La pubblicità italiana da (...)
  • 22 See: Antonio Farchione, Storia della pubblicità italiana dall’Unità ai nostri giorni, Canterano, Ar (...)
  • 23 Diana Garvin, Feeding fascism: the politics of women’s food work, Eugene, University of Oregon Pres (...)
  • 24 Carol Helstosky, Garlic and oil: food and politics in Italy, Oxford, Berg Publishers, 2004.

13As regards the second research field, it is important to mention earlier historiographic literature on food advertising and fascism. Bianca Gaudenzi18 published a wonderful volume, in which she analyses forms of consumption in both the Italian and German regimes. In her book, only a small part is dedicated to colonialism. Simone Cinotto, in his Gastrofascism and Empire,19 dedicated a final part of the text to deconstructing some important food adverts during fascism. Other publications have dealt with the Italian colonial imaginary, also paying attention to food advertising.20 While Fernando Fasce, Elisabetta Bini and Bianca Gaudenzi21 have analysed the role of advertising in the history of Italy, the history of Italian advertising has been examined in different volumes.22 Most recently, Diana Garvin23 approached the study of fascism through the lens of food, paying attention to women in the Italian context; and, in another contribution, she highlighted the relationship between food and politics in Italy. Carol Helstosky24 investigated Italian food habits, examining the role of the fascist regime in shaping the Italian identity.

  • 25 Karen Pinkus, Bodily Regimes: Italian Advertising under Fascism, Minneapolis, University of Minneso (...)
  • 26 Ivi, 4.

14Karen Pinkus has written probably the most important book on Italian advertising during fascism.25 In her work, Pinkus scrutinised the narrative about the body under fascism in many advertisements, by mapping and analysing recurring visual representations. As she put it: “this project […] attempts neither a strict critique of fascist economic policies, nor an objective history of design styles, but a survey of corporal forms suspended somewhere between these two fields.”26

  • 27 Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of culture, Oxon, Routledge, 2004 (first published 1994).

15At the intersection of the two research fields mentioned above, in a “third space” in the sense proposed by Homi Bhabha,27 numerous issues remain unexamined. For example, where did the visual language of food advertising under fascism come from? Is it solely the product of fascism, some Italian artistic currents (such as futurism) and artists such as Fortunato Depero. Or is it possible to trace a similar European way of telling, representing and consequently imagining other bodies, other lands and other tastes? Where ‘other’ has a myriad of meanings: colonial, black, not European, but also bizarre, strange, unrefined, intense and excessive tastes.

16In this sense, how was the colonial propaganda of each nation/empire connected and related to a trans-imperial layer of dialogue and exchange of meanings between different European languages and visual cultures? These questions seem important when reconsidering the legacy of colonialisms after the fall of empires. And again: can the study of colonial history really serve to confront and contain new waves of xenophobia and racism? And specifically, is it more useful and appropriate to know how race works—for example, how discriminatory narratives about black bodies are rooted in a society—or why Assab, Eritrea, was the first Italian possession? I assert this, of course, neither to question the importance of the historical research on any Italian colonial topic nor to diminish its relevance to fully understanding the Italian past of violence. But a part of the academy, first and then even a part of activism, began to think of the decolonisation from the colonial legacies as a practice through which it is possible to extract how much evil there is in racism, by reforming languages, representations, modes of expression and practices.

  • 28 Cedric Robinson, On racial capitalism, black internationalism, and cultures of resistance, London, (...)
  • 29 Simone Cinotto, ‘The world on a plate: Globalization and national cuisines’, Quaderni Storici, No.  (...)

17Racism—this is the hypothesis behind this article—spread and passed from mouth to mouth, from body to body, not by ideology, but by the link between emotions, sensations, perceptions and images. This is not to say that race has not been theorised—as indeed it was—through scientific disciplines (anthropology, criminology, sociology, biology, eugenics, etc.). Instead, the above statement means that there are widespread and shared memorial practices in the public space with detrimental effects on constructing Italians’ masculine imaginaries, organising their dreams and desires, defining the horrid and the sensual, the perverse and the erotic. Memorial practices developed and continued to exist after the end of colonialism through emotions and perceptions, tastes and smells, in the social construction of the masculine touch and gaze. The materialisation of racism through senses and sensations combines well with the role of race and capitalism in the evolution from the feudal order to produce a modern world system, as pointed out by Cedric Robinson.28 Modernity, in fact, is made by material aspects and tangible perceptions such as the taste of national cuisines—which, in Europe, was invented in the nineteenth century29—as well as, the use/adoption of spices and exotic fruits, the flavour of faraway lands.

18In bringing this approach, it is important to state that the colony was understood, in the whole of Europe and by different colonialisms, as a place dedicated to regenerating the human being, who was understood as exclusively male. The role of this space was to confront, cure and recover European masculinities from their national anxieties, in different historical moments. Identifying a line of research that analyses the cultural links between colonialism and Italian post-unification racism seems to leave out several elements:

  1. the trans-imperial circularity of images, ideas and practices about race, gender and sexuality;

  2. simultaneously, the black body being regarded as the property of the nation, even though it is ontologically excluded from being part of the nation, according to the colonial logos;

  3. the multiple and interconnected forms of racism, generating an archive of memory of whiteness with many genealogies and applications in different places and times.

  • 30 Stuart Hall, ‘The West and the rest: discourse and power’, Essential writings: identity and diaspor (...)

19This contribution will not deal with all the topics mentioned above. Food advertising will be analysed through the discursive approach proposed by Stuart Hall.30 The deconstructive practice of visual sources will not be finalised solely to examine the representations of black bodies; its aim is to individuate and scrutinise desires and appetites, sensations and perceptions of various male subjectivities that were interested in regenerating themselves.

The Salce Collection: a quantitative and quantitative analysis

20The Salce is the largest collection of advertisement graphics in Italy, donated to the National Museum in Treviso by Ferdinando Salce. With more than 25,000 items, this archive is the most important one for scholars interested in studying the ways brands advertised their products. The research concerning this essay was conducted through the online database, in which there are more than 4,500 items concerning the Italian market.

  • 31 Michael Rothberg, Multidirectional memory: remembering the holocaust in the age of decolonization, (...)
  • 32 See: Nicola Labanca, Oltremare. Storia dell’espansione coloniale italiana, Bologna, Il Mulino, 2002 (...)

21The online research for this essay was carried out per year, from 1922 to 1943, both in a qualitative and quantitative perspective. Every poster, advertisement and graphic advertising object was examined to find traces of the relationship between Italy and its colonies. This relationship has to be placed within a broader framework of race in Europe and its legacies31 and examined by taking into account how food ads show bodies wanted, desired and craved; specific obsessions and sexual paranoia of Italian masculinity for the overseas; peculiar forms of taste evoking racist and sexist imaginaries. The analysis revealed an unexpected result that has to be considered when formulating the role of memory and memory processes in shaping racist representations of food. If historiography considers 1922 as the year of Italy’s reconquest of Libya—or as Nicola Labanca rightly wrote “conquest”32—there is no trace of this war in the analysed sources.

Figure 1. Talmone Unica (1922)

Figure 1. Talmone Unica (1922)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

22Conversely, representations of other colonies emerge. Such as the case of the god Shiva, a symbol of a pre-modern India that seems to come straight from Kim, by Rudyard Kipling. He is depicted sitting on the ground, wearing a robe and headdress and holding emerald green boxes with “cocoa” written on them. The meaning of this graphic created by Marcello Dudovich is that Talmone Unica, a prestigious confectionery manufacturer based in Turin, is offering its customers a chocolate whose taste is reminiscent of the wildness of these lands, an ancient pre-modern people and race.

23While only ten posters in 1922 bear traces of the colonial world, all of them deal with other overseas territories. Calissano uses a black African idol to advertise its Passito spirit; graphic artist Mauzan Achille Luciano creates an orientalised representation of a Chinese official contentedly clutching a bottle of Elixir China, produced by Pedroni; painter Caroni “Lince” Erberto depicts three black kings to advertise Banchini chocolate produced in Parma; Messicano Sarti, the name of a very famous spirit drunk as an aperitif, represents an anthropomorphised Mexican character whose body is made of a red chili pepper and who wears a sombrero on his head. All these cases suggest the possibility of adopting a trans-imperial approach when considering the visual representations.

24Taking a broader quantitative view, it is possible to draw some aggregate data (figure 2).

Figure 2. Aggregate data—adverts with connections to colonialism

Year

Number of items with connection to colonialism

1923

8

1924

3

1925

7

1926

5

1927

8

1928

5

1929

5

1930

13

1931

0

1932

0

1933

2

1934

4

1935

12

1936

16

1937

8

1938

3

1939

1

1940

2

1941

0

1942

0

1943

2

1944

1

1945

0

TOTAL

95

Figure 3. Aggregate data—Typologies of food (quantitative data for each year)

Typology of Food or products of the advertisement

Number of advertisements

Description

Yeast

1

Lievito Vulcania (1936).

Sweets

5

Pastiglie Leone (1926), Elah (1930), Panettoni Motta (1936), Caramella San Giorgio (1936), Ibac (1936).

Preparation for broth

1

Estratto Wuhrer (1930).

Chocolate

6

G.B. Banchini (1922), Talmone Unica (1922), Perugina (1925), Unica (1925), FL Cailler’s (1925), Perugina (1929).

Pasta

3

Maccheroni Pianigiani (1922), Zambelli Bassi (1923), Mutue Riunite (1936).

Cured meat

1

Salumi Bellentani (1927).

Drink (non-alcoholic beverage)

8

Tamarindo Erba (1926, 1927, 1928), Acqua di Chianciano (1927), Acqua minerale Ferrarelle (1930), Karkade Kebe (1934), Aranciata S.Pellegrino (1936), Lloyd Triestino AOI (1936).

Coffee and coffee substitutes

14

Scib (1923), Kee (1923), Moretto (1923, 1925, 1930, 1934, 1935, 1937, 1938a, 1938b), Franck (1924), Caffè Rousseau (1926), Caffè Asborno (1929), Bricco (1939).

Spirits and alcoholic drinks

20

Nuovo Fiore (1936), Calissano (1922, 1930, 1937), Elisir China Pedroni (1922), Birra Napoli (1922), Messicano Sarti (1922), Chinol (1923), Anicione G. Casoni (1923), Americano Andreoli (1925, 1930), A.A. Baker (1926), Birra OEA (1927), Menta Sacco (1928), Ramazzotti (1930, 1935a, 1935b, 1935c), Rum Coruba (1935), Contratto (1937)

Bananas

2

SABI (1933), Banane Somale (1934).

Total

58

25Out of 95 advertisements, 58 refer to food, drink or nutritional products. This kind of result suggests the following considerations: 1) a very high percentage (over 61%) of ads employed racialised bodies to represent Italian food products; 2) a colonial and race propaganda capable of entering everyday life and thousands of homes through consumer products; 3) a sublimation of ‘weakened masculinities’ which found new strength in foodstuffs associated with race, gender and sexual power relations with colonial black subjects; 4) the invention of specific tastes dedicated to translating in terms of taste/sensation the concepts mentioned above.

  • 33 Stuart Hall, 1992.
  • 34 Ann McClintock, Imperial Leather. Race, gender, and sexuality in the colonial context, New York and (...)

26While the deconstruction of historical sources in the perspective of discourse analysis33 aims to shed light on power relations and their reasons from a racist perspective, the investigation seems to be limited to an empirical dimension that has no direct impact on the ‘real’ world. But imaginaries, ideas, representations, desires, fears and anxieties, as well as emotions, perceptions and tastes are all elements of the ‘real’ world. They define the context in which forms of power are exercised. On the other hand, it is also true that forms of power act from the perspective of self-affirmation through the above-mentioned elements. It is the case of the Pears’ soap campaign analysed by Ann McClintock, in which the whitening of a black and implicitly racialised chimney sweep reveals “the middle-class Victorian fascination with clean, white bodies and clean, white clothes stemmed not only from the rampant profiteering of the imperial economy but also from the realms of ritual and fetish.”34 As regards other advertisements for the domestication of Africa, McClintock explains:

  • 35 Ivi, 212.

more than merely a symbol of imperial progress, the domestic commodity becomes the agent of history itself. The commodity, abstracted from the social context and human labour, does the civilising work of empire, while radical change is figured as magical, without process or social agency. Hence the proliferation of ads featuring magic.35

  • 36 Brian Griffith, ‘Bacchus among the Blackshirts: wine making, consumerism and identity in fascist It (...)
  • 37 Sidney Mintz, Sweetness and power: the place of sugar in modern history, New York, Viking, 1985.
  • 38 James Walvin, The Fruits of empire: exotic produce and British taste 1660–1800, New York, New York (...)

27At this point, the contribution will examine three typologies of advertisements: those for sweets, for chocolates and for drinks and spirits. The reason for this choice is with regard to the deep and different relationships between each category mentioned before with the colony. Each of them has its own historical geography: sweets and chocolate evoke the white conquest of Americas, slavery in plantations and the triangulation between Europe, Africa and Americas; alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks are directly connected to a male food habit because of the Italian and regime morality, as pointed out by Brian Griffith.36 In addition, all of them may be considered part of those drug foods mentioned by Sidney Mintz37 and James Walvin.38

The sweetness of the (white and European) privilege

Figure 4. Caramella San Giorgio (1936)

Figure 4. Caramella San Giorgio (1936)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 5. Pastiglie Leone (1926)

Figure 5. Pastiglie Leone (1926)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 6. Elah (1930)

Figure 6. Elah (1930)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 7. Ibac (1936)

Figure 7. Ibac (1936)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

  • 39 Mintz 1985.

28These advertisements focused on sweets, which are non-essential foods usually enjoyed outside the time set aside for daily meals and in a moment of relaxation or leisure. In this sense, sweets evoke the taste of privilege, as in the case of sugar. Sidney Mintz39 highlighted how the product of plantations in the Americas was directly linked to power: both in terms of lifestyle and the ways in which European superiority was represented. Since the beginning of the seventeenth century, higher classes had consumed sugar as a symbolic expression of the embodiment of all the qualities of the newly discovered and conquered lands. Clearly, once again, when one says higher classes one means mainly men and some queens or women in power circles which were managed by men. For this reason, it can be said that the historian’s gaze might observe behind each sweet, given that it was made of sugar, a double dynamic that linked the production of whiteness through the ongoing re-invention of the black body. Rather than simply describing characters of topoi in ads, this approach aims to illuminate the prism through which this racialisation of black bodies was constantly re-invented, taking into account the different positionalities of consumers, companies and products.

29Pastiglie Leone is an historic brand of candies in Turin, founded in Alba in 1857. Maga, an important advertising company based in Bologna in 1920, created the first advertising campaign for the Piedmontese label. As can be seen in the picture (figure 5), a figure with black skin and very thick red lips, a red hand and a blue suit with a red collar is holding a pack of Leone products. The depiction shows a figure that is not quite human—at least not as human as a possible Italian character—between clown and madman, puppet and servant, with squinting eyes and an exaggerated smile, together with the spring that seems to come out of a box. This ambiguous character resembles a human being, but he is not one. In fact, the black body serves to amuse and entertain the white people who are waiting to receive a Leone candy from his hands.

30In 1930, Elah advertised its rum-flavoured candy with a design showing a black man carrying several candies on a staircase (figure 6). A palm tree appears in the background—a symbol that indicates the location of the scene, presumably the Caribbean. Most likely, the main character is wearing black pants and a white long-sleeved shirt with a white hat. He also has no shoes. Everything suggests that the black character is a slave or a Central or South American individual. The black male body is thought of and imagined by the white and European gaze as capable of doing only tiring and arduous work. He is metaphor of Latin American peoples. His task is to move a product intended for white Italian pleasure, without stopping to savour it. In this sense, the interbreeding of race and gender results in a genealogy of taste according to which only those people who are white are allowed to taste Leone’s candy, while black subjects can only afford to work to secure to white people this taste or privilege. At the top of the poster, one can read: “for you and your children, rum fondant candies”.

31Ibac, another confectionery company, decided to advertise its products in 1936 by depicting an African scene. A black man, who appears to be a Tuareg by his clothing, comes riding into a village from the desert on a camel (figure 7). He raises his hand in greeting and shows the package with the inscription ‘Ibac’. In the background, a second camel follows the first, loaded with more parcels. People living in huts walk from a village towards him, greeting him. The black colour of their skin harbours two different meanings: the idea of pre-modern conditions of Africans living in the village and, at the same time, the jubilation of the small African community over a redemption from that condition precisely through the arrival of Ibac’s products. This typology of racialised taste seems to give a materiality to the idea of good Italian/European colonisation: extract resources from colonial lands to invent a new product that simultaneously satiates European desires and allows non-civilised African populations to take a step in the direction of modern Europe.

32In the same year, Caramella San Giorgio, which was produced in a factory in Cornigliano, Genoa, associated its candy with the famous colonial propaganda song “Faccetta Nera” (figure 4). This poster was created by Luciano Bonacini and celebrates the conquest—or perhaps one should say invasion—of Ethiopia by Italy. In the foreground, a black woman smiles happily, with a look that seems embarrassed. The notes of the popular song accompanying the propaganda campaign can be read in the background; the title of the song is written in red above the woman’s head. The representation of the black woman, thus, reproduces a trope of Italian colonialism. She wears a shemma, a white dress characteristic of Ethiopian culture, a red necklace and two very large yellow earrings. These earrings evoke the Italian public image of the proximity of a wild or not-yet-modern world, the condition of primitive African peoples. As for the face, the black skin, red lips and white teeth, as well as the curly hair tied with a ribbon, complete the Italian public narrative of the “beautiful Abyssinian”, the object of Italian male sexual desires and symbol of the land to be colonised. Karen Pinkus speaks of the link between Bonacini’s advertising and the popular marching song of Fascist Italy, written by Renato Micheli, with music by Mario Ruccione:

  • 40 Karen Pinkus, Bodily regimes: Italian advertising under fascism, Minneapolis, University of Minneso (...)

33The chant could be addressed only to the woman, the faccetta nera of Ethiopia, because it is through her that the “new” law and the “new” sexual economy will be enacted. The replacement of a “feudal” order with a new system of sexual vassalage (the themes of liberation and binding) make sense only in an environment where white male displaces black male so nearly that the laws themselves are in fact unchanged. The institutional structures will remain intact: only a new group of individuals will come to fill the positions. “Faccetta nera” brand chocolates are complicitous in this scheme of displacement and conquest.”40

Chocolate and racial obsessions

Figure 8. FL Cailler’s Cioccolato, Marcello Dudovich (1929)

Figure 8. FL Cailler’s Cioccolato, Marcello Dudovich (1929)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 9. Unica Giovanni Guerrini (1925)

Figure 9. Unica Giovanni Guerrini (1925)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

  • 41 See: Silke Hackernesch, Chocolate and blackness: a cultural history, Berlin, Campus Verlag Gmbh, 20 (...)

34Chocolate is another food advertised in racist narratives. First, it is important to point out that the racialised ways of advertising this product were not restricted to the Italians. As analysed by many scholars in relation to different colonialisms, chocolate was directly linked to the European public imaginary about black skin and the overseas.41

35At the beginning of this article, the Unica commercial featuring the exotic and mysterious Mesoamerican god with four packets of chocolate was mentioned. The second poster (figure 9), drawn by architect, painter and artist Giovanni Guerrini is a white European noblewoman worshipped by two black servants. In this case, there is an overlap of meanings in relation to black skin: on the one hand, it is about the impact of the slave trade in Europe in terms of black people and products imported from the “New World” bringing a taste of the exotic; on the other hand, chocolate is associated with black skin and is the expression of other colonised or pre-modern peoples in many depictions. The gender relationship between the two black men and the white woman intertwines on multiple levels: the former are servants of the latter because they are positioned at the bottom of the social hierarchy. The proxemics of their bodies indicate a devotion to the woman: they offer products (chocolate and hot chocolate) that presumably come from their places of birth. In this sense, the two black servants represent Black Americans who are considered submissive to the European power.

36In 1929, FL Cailler’s Chocolate advertised its chocolate on a poster by designer Marcello Dudovich (figure 8), showing a black woman in a red dress. Again, the black woman’s body is associated with chocolate. The advertisement seems to suggest that eating a piece of this chocolate is to be eating a piece of the black woman’s body. It is a kind of sensual and vital essence that heals the masculine pathologies of modernity, the wear and tear of the city. In this sense, the black body symbolises Africa in European colonial imagery.

Figure 10. G. B. Banchini, Erberto Carboni (1922)

Figure 10. G. B. Banchini, Erberto Carboni (1922)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

37In 1922, designer Carboni ‘Lince’ Erberto created the advertising poster for the G. B. Banchini chocolate label (figure 10). He used the theme of the Three Kings who celebrated the birth of Christ with three symbolic gifts: gold, incense and myrrh. Chocolate appears in the kings’ hands instead of the three precious gifts. The kings’ bodies are adorned with colonial stereotypes: in particular, the one with the darkest skin is depicted smiling, with red lips and very white teeth. This trope returns in the depiction of colonial forms subservient to white colonial power. This smile is the symbol of submission to the European order in Africa, of the desires and needs of whiteness of the European people outside European boundaries and of the need for the regeneration of white masculinity and virility.

Figure 11. Perugina, Federico Seneca (1925)

Figure 11. Perugina, Federico Seneca (1925)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 12. Perugina, Federico Seneca (1929)

Figure 12. Perugina, Federico Seneca (1929)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

38Perugina delivered two different advertisements: the first one is by designer Federico Seneca and is dated 1925 (figure 11). A naked black man smilingly embraces a banana. In this case, the fruit is a phallic symbol of strength and masculinity. The implicit message is that the Italian man can regain his virility, lost in the meandering of the modern city, by eating the fruit of sexual power in the colony. Banane Perugina, in particular, is a product made of an outer chocolate shell with an elongated shape and a banana cream filling. In another advertisement, dated four years later (1929), Seneca presents another important part of the colonial imaginary: a stylised black woman who has become a puppet, a toy, a figure carrying baskets full of objects (perhaps fruits or cocoa beans) on her shoulders (figure 12). She walks together with another woman and seems to have a martial stride, so much so that their physical features match. Two palm trees can be seen in the background. The bodies of the women depicted are completely subjugated to the colonial order and, therefore, to the idea of regenerated and renewed masculinity.

Drinking Africa

Figure 13. Karkade Kebe (1934)

Figure 13. Karkade Kebe (1934)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 14. Ferrarelle (1930)

Figure 14. Ferrarelle (1930)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

  • 42 See Luisa Passerini, La fontana della giovinezza, Firenze, Giunti Editore, 1999.

39Tamarindo, mineral water, karkade (hibiscus), coffee, orangeade, alcoholic beverages and spirits: these drinks are advertised with black characters. From a cultural perspective, the idea of drinking ‘the otherness’—the wildness of a pre-modern world and the exoticism of a particular geographical region—is a reinterpretation of the myth of the fountain of youth.42 This myth reappeared in the Americas, in lands untouched and unknown by European men. Before the invasion of the continent, this myth took the form of another magical place from which one could drink to attain eternal youth or substance in infinite abundance, the Holy Grail. With the rise of colonialism in Africa, this imaginary was revisited in a new context: on the one hand, the rush to discover the sources of the Nile attracted many explorers and geographers such as Richard Burton, John Hanning Speke and Giovanni Miani. The source of the Nile was shrouded in mystery and in some European tales it began to be spoken of as a place offering access to eternal paradise.

40For others, however, discovering the source of the African river meant unravelling a mystery and providing a rational response to the categories of “unknown” and “wild”, but it also meant being the first to drink the pristine and therefore regenerative water. The idea of “exotic” represented a supra-real condition, which in some cases sprang from the myth of earthly paradise. Advertising brought home that dream, the desire for adventure and regeneration, carefreeness and sensuality. The black skin colour, once again, was used to represent Africa as a place, but also as a reference context, devoted to welcoming and hosting the European imagination. It was a matrix in which the original myth of the fountain of youth, previously repositioned from Europe to America, was then transferred to Africa. In this sense, the many variations of the myth took the form of colonial languages: no longer sacred narratives, but secular discourses in which sexuality, gender, erotic fantasies and desires for conquest and domination, as well as the psychosis of modernity were mixed and intermingled. The forms were manifold: from the orientalisation of a very Italian mineral water, as in the case of Ferrarelle (figure 14), to the exoticisation of San Pellegrino’s orange juice (figure 16) through the use of an advertisment showing a black woman drinking the beverage; from the mysterious and spicy taste of Karkade (figure 13), where the advertisement brings together an African and a Greco-Roman idol, to Tamarindo Ebra, which first tells of ‘a wild water source’, and depicts a white woman drinking from a waterfall in the middle of (perhaps) an African forest. Tamarindo Erba uses the image of an Egyptian woman (figure 15) carrying a tray on her head on which a bottle of drink appears.

Figure 15. Tamarindo Erba (1926)

Figure 15. Tamarindo Erba (1926)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 16. Aranciata San Pellegrino (1936)

Figure 16. Aranciata San Pellegrino (1936)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 17. Tamarindo Erba (1927)

Figure 17. Tamarindo Erba (1927)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

41In many cases, the sanctions imposed on Italy by the League of Nations for the invasion of Ethiopia had a direct impact on advertisements for beverages. This was the case for coffee with an abundant production of images that, directly or indirectly, evoked the colonial conflict. As it was not possible to import coffee in the peninsula, Italy pursued a self-sufficient policy. It began to produce coffee substitutes (chicory, barely, acorn and fig). The Moretto company produced an interesting series of advertisements from 1934 to 1938 (figures 18–23).

Figure 18. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1934)

Figure 18. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1934)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 19. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1935)

Figure 19. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1935)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 20. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1938)

Figure 20. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1938)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 21. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1939)

Figure 21. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1939)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 22. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1940)

Figure 22. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1940)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 23. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1941)

Figure 23. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1941)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

42The designer Gino Boccasile used black bodies in his posters (Figure 18-19-20) to emphasise and promote the colonial taste of the vile-tasting Moretto ersatz coffee. A woman drinks coffee during a break while sitting in an oasis; a smiling child lifts a box of the product in the air; a smiling woman holds the very Italian product tightly to herself. In all these representations, the black body is used to suggest different meanings (exoticism, wildness, eroticism). In 1939, designer Franco Mosca further developed the series by using similar graphic features and adding new plots. In the first (figure 21), a black woman—who looks a lot like ‘Mammy’ (Hattie McDaniel) in the film Gone with the Wind (Fleming, 1939)—has a tray on her lap and a coffee pot in her hand. Surrounding her, three children seem to be listening attentively to what she is saying. The role of black characters is striking and, in America as in Ethiopia, the message seems to be: Moretto teaches education, modernity, manners and respect to other peoples. Moretto’s commercial campaign evoked well-known colonial symbols and myths for the public masculine imagination. The last two depict other colonial contexts. In the first picture (figure 22) a boy, wearing a red hat, which is a “fez” with military and fascist connotations, is riding an unsaddled mule. He is smiling, as are the three figures in the second advertisement (figure 23). The man, woman and child are walking in line, topless, and the adults are carrying the product and a basket of ingredients. He is riding an unsaddled mule (figure 23). He smiles just like the three characters in the second advertisement. All three in a row and bare backed (a man, a woman and a child) carry a packet of the product and a basket with products in it on their heads, respectively.

Figure 24. Rum Coruba (1935)

Figure 24. Rum Coruba (1935)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

  • 43 Ambe is an Amharic and Tigrinya term used to describe a characteristic landform in Ethiopia.

43The Rum Coruba poster, which was launched in 1935, shows three black men with yellow sombreros (figure 24). Their faces are once again stereotypical and the depictions of the black men are racial: a large mouth and very red lips, in contrast to the black skin and very white teeth. Two yellow earrings once again evoke the topos of the pre-modern and uncivilised Africa. In this case, however, rum is a drink that originates from the Caribbean or at least where sugar cane is grown. However, in 1935, the character depicted recalled the Ethiopian war. It is obviously a short circuit that brings together different times and conditions of black peoples. Conversely, Calissano advertises its tonic wine with the aromas of Ethiopia, as is written in red in the foreground, on the poster created by designer Aurelio Craffonara in 1936 (figure 25). The picture shows the landscape of the new Italian colony, with a camel and an Italian soldier; in the background, one can see the ‘ambe’43 landscape. This last detail is interesting: the visual format of the panorama, which was usually used in colonial propaganda, aims to reflect the colonial flavour of the conquered territory in the wine produced.

Figure 25. Nuovo Fiore Calissano, Aurelio Craffonara (1936)

Figure 25. Nuovo Fiore Calissano, Aurelio Craffonara (1936)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 26. Ramazzotti, Amaro Felsina, Gino Boccasile (1935)

Figure 26. Ramazzotti, Amaro Felsina, Gino Boccasile (1935)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

Figure 27. Ramazzotti, Gino Boccasile (1936)

Figure 27. Ramazzotti, Gino Boccasile (1936)

Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

44Ramazzotti signed a contract with Gino Boccasile for some important advertisements that would become very popular in the Italian public imagination. In the first advertisement for Amaro Felsina, two black women open a crate containing several bottles of spirits (figure 26). The first woman, in the background, wears a blue skirt and is naked from the waist up. She holds a bottle in her hands. The second, in the foreground, wears a red dress, smiles and holds a bottle in each hand. There is also a specific feature: a hut, that once again, reminds the viewer the theme of non-modernity and non-civilisation. It is therefore clear that this advertisement is aimed at an exclusively male audience; an audience that sees the colony as a destination for territorial and sexual conquest. These bottles are a symbol of pleasure for men who can drink to their hearts’ content. When the bottles end up in the hands of women—and in this case, we are talking about people living in a colonial territory—the possible meaning of the glass container becomes clearly sexual, as a phallic emblem of white male desire towards black colonised Ethiopian women.

45In the second poster dated 1936, also by Boccasile, a smiling, well-dressed white woman in a colonial hat basks in the sun (figure 27). Behind her comes a black woman who is also smiling. She is naked from the waist up and carries a bottle of copper-coloured bitters on a tray. At the top left, one can read the following words “it quenches thirst and invigorates”. Again, the gaze interested in the consumption of the alcohol is male and white. One could therefore say that the advertisement defines a true genealogy of whiteness. Adopting an intersectional approach, the subject at the top of the hierarchy is the heterosexual white male: he is a non-visible expressed subject and the whole scene is inspired by his imagination. The white woman is suntanned because she is the eugenically correct prototype of the Mediterranean race: she can guarantee the purity of race and lineage. She is the wife, the mother and the one who, according to fascist rhetoric, begets a people or race. The black woman, on the other hand, is dependent on the Italian male whiteness and is named last in the proposed genealogy. Her representation, once again, reproduces all the colonial tropes for black female bodies, as formulated above. She is a servant and mistress: in either case, she cannot become part of the family, the community or the nation.

Conclusion

46This final section outlines some possible interpretations of visual sources analysed in this article. It is possible to list several arguments that need to be analysed in a deeper perspective and with other historical approaches.

  • 44 Fernando Cordova, Il consenso imperfetto: quattro capitoli sul fascismo, Soveria Mannelli, Rubettin (...)

47The reappearance and repetition of some colonial topoi, such as red lips, black skin and white teeth (San Giorgio, Leone, Ramazzotti, Rum Coruba, Moretto, San Pellegrino); hypersexualised black women’s bodies (Ramazzotti, Moretto, Perugina, San Giorgio) is a theme that opens a reflection on the nexus between fascist propaganda and consensus.44 The advertisements analysed refer to private companies: they reproduced certain narratives or styles and precise visual representations because those who devised them assumed that they were well established in the public sphere, understandable and useful for the selling of foods and beverages. This topic can be the subject of further analysis in the field of research. For example, is it possible that all companies allied themselves with fascist propaganda? Or is it possible to suggest that the regime’s narrative tried to partially adopt a colonial visual culture and employ it in order to improve public support for the propaganda? Another possible interpretation leads us to individual designers, their relations with the regime and a European way of advertising certain products (chocolate, beverages, coffee, spirits, tea, etc.) and visualising ideas of exoticism, orientalism and colonialism.

  • 45 Jane Burbank and Frederick Cooper, Empires in world history: power and the politics of difference, (...)

48As for the use of black bodies, what has been analysed is consistent with what happened in other colonial nations such as France, England, Belgium and Holland. This consideration can be interpreted from the point of view of the circulation of certain images and visual representations between colonial nations as well as models of subjectification and forms of citizenship. Another possible interpretation is given by the approach to the study of mobility amongst empires. In particular, the focussing of the senses may suggest a circulation of some shared perceptions of the overseas. The choice of specific characters, certain themes and stereotypical representations for food advertisements are aimed at evoking a different sensoriality, in which race and gender combine in multiple ways to define exotic and oriental tastes in opposition to the usual national ones. If colonialism is an act of conquering a people, a region or a country, imperialism can be said to have added meanings to national identity. It is possible to consider this potential research path in order to analyse the role of imperialism in transforming and reshaping senses. The trans-imperial paradigm, on which an important debate is developing.45 could provide important suggestions and considerations for the Italian case study.

  • 46 West African troops who fought for France in World War I.

49Taking into account the possible interpretations proposed above, the use of black bodies in advertising should be analysed both from a European and a transnational perspective. In the case of Italy, the early advertisements of the 1920s (Pastiglie Leone, Unica, Perugina, etc.) refer to narrative and visual models that seem to have been imported from other countries. One example of this is the advertising of Banania in France at the beginning of the twentieth century (figure 28). The history of Banania, in turn, is emblematic of a very broad colonial horizon which it stretches from Nicaragua, where the journalist Pierre Lardet discovered the recipe in 1909, to Senegal under French rule, with France being the symbolic realm and place of origin of the characters depicted in the French company’s racist advertisements. With this gaze it will be possible to analyse many thematic connections between images and meanings in each empire: female black body/colonial land, chocolate/black skin, alcohol/colonial sexuality, coffee/colonial exoticism, beverages/youth and virility. One can take the case of the aforementioned Banania and banana Perugina: same ingredients (chocolate and banana), different representations both targeting the idea of virility (a black man hugging a banana and a Senegalese tirailleur46), a similar taste referencing different colonies (the Horn of Africa for Italy and Madagascar for France).

Figure 28. Banania (1915), by Giacomo de Andreis

Figure 28. Banania (1915), by Giacomo de Andreis

Source: BNF, ENT DN-1 (Camis), Gallica: https://gallica.bnf.fr/​ark:/12148/​btv1b9006003d?rk=21459;2# (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

  • 47 See Kayla Wazala Tompkins, Racial indigestion: eating bodies in the 19th century, New York, New Yor (...)

50Visual representations must not be disconnected from the determination of taste, nor from the idea of a European social metabolism that covets, symbolically eats and then equally metaphorically digests the colonial world. Kayla Wazana Tompkins47 wrote important pages on the role of European domination in transforming and utilising the rest of the world. Although the above arguments deserve their own space, I think it is also important to show that the ways in which race, gender and sexuality interact in defining the topoi presented above should be interpreted precisely in terms of the formation of specific tastes. In many advertisements, like those by Ramazzotti, Moretto and Perugina, the reference to proximity and thus to touch and sexuality is evident: that is to say, the power relationship in which bodies appear as representations, but also including the role they play in relation to white Italian bodies. In the same way, the idea of a European social metabolism that behaves like a stomach in relation to the colonies is not exclusively a metaphorical allusion: rather, it means considering that forms of racism and sexism were also developed and rooted through consumption, and not solely in colonial and imperial political decisions in which the senses were the place of connection between mentality and practice, propaganda and consumption.

51Through these advertisements and products, the colony becomes real and material in food, in a taste that is not intended as the final act of eating. On the contrary, it is first desired as a collective memory and concerns multiple power relations that are constituted, invented and enacted in the colony. It is precisely on these that the advertising’s message invests, linking forms of power, either imagined or real, it does not matter to the consumer, with tastes. Racialisation and sexualisation of colonial subjects become real at the table, which is also the symbolic and metaphorical place around which the family gathers with rituals and good manners, hierarchies and gender divisions. In this symbolic horizon, the colony becomes a food or a drink for men only. The white male body is, therefore, the object of desires and pleasures: those of food and sexual ones. San Giacomo, Ramazzotti, Moretto, San Pellegrino, Perugina and FL Cailler tell of a desire that is both about a food (considered non-Italian and erotic) and for the bodies of colonised black women. In other cases, the taste of some products harkens back to the wild condition and adventurous spirit of the colony: this is the case of Calissano’s Ethiopian-flavoured tonic wine containing tamarind herb with the idea of discovering the fountain of youth or, at least, revitalising Italian masculinity through the drink. Karkade Kebe and Ferrarelle use female icons to narrate, respectively, the exotic and oriental as worlds and bodies subservient to the white Italian ones. All black bodies in advertisements taken into account are functional to the achievement of the Italian white male’s pleasure: some are emblematic of the sexualisation of the black woman (that is, the beautiful Abyssinian in San Giorgio’s advert); others are considered almost non-human, as in the case of Leone, or else appear as anonymous subjects (such as Elah with characters with no face) and are arranged in the background.

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Notes

1 Jane Coaston, ‘The intersectionality wars’, Vox, May 28, 2019. See: https://www.vox.com/the-highlight/2019/5/20/18542843/intersectionality-conservatism-law-race-gender-discrimination. See also Kimberlé Crenshaw, ‘Demarginalizing the intersection of iace and sex: A Black Feminist critique of antidiscrimination doctrine’, Feminist theory and antiracist politics, 1989; Kimberlé Crenshaw, ‘Mapping the margins: intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color’, Stanford Law Review, Vol 42, No. 6, 1991, 1241–1299.

2 Edward Said, Orientalism, New York, Penguin Books, 1979, 9.

3 See official Salce website: http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

4 Stuart Hall, Race, the floating signifier, 1997 (62 min).

5 Barbara Sorgoni, Parole e corpi. Antropologia, discorso giuridico e politiche sessuali interraziali nella colonia eritrea (1890-1941), Napoli, Liguori, 1996.

6 Sandra Ponzanesi, ‘The Color of love: madamismo and interracial relationships in the italian colonies’, Research in African Literatures, Vol. 43, No. 2, 2012, 155–172.

7 See Barbara Spackman, Fascist virilities. rhetoric, ideology, and social fantasy in Italy. Minneapolis, Minnesota University Press, 1996.

8 The Istituto Luce was an Italian film agency, created during Fascism whose aim was to produce films and documentaries for screening in cinemas. Visit the online archive of the Istituto Luce at the following website: https://www.archivioluce.com (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).

9 Giulietta Stefani, Colonia per maschi. Italiani in Africa Orientale: una storia di genere, Verona, Ombre Corte, 2007, 40. All translations into English are by the author.

10 See: Barbara Spadaro, Una colonia Italiana. Incontri, memorie e rappresentazioni tra Italia e Libia, Milano, Mondadori Le Monnier, 2013; Gabriele Proglio, Libia 1911-1912: immaginari coloniali e italianità, Milano, Mondadori Le Monnier, 2015.

11 Ruth Ben-Ghiat, Fascist Modernities. Italy, 1922–1945, Berkeley, University of California Press, 2001, p. 128.

12 Barbara Spadaro, Una colonia italiana. Incontri, memorie e rappresentazioni tra Italia e Libia, Milano, Mondadori Le Monnier, 2013, 30.

13 See: Robert Young, White mythologies. writing history and the West, New York, Routledge, 2004; Gaia Giuliani, Cristina Lombardi-Diop, Bianco e nero. Storia dell’identità razziale degli italiani, Milano-Firenze, Mondadori Le Monnier, 2013.

14 Ivi, 24.

15 Carmine Conelli, Il rovescio della nazione. La costruzione coloniale dell’idea di Mezzogiorno, Napoli, Tamu, 2023.

16 Gaia Giuliani, Monica Di Barbora, Vincenza Perilli, Tatiana Petrovich Njegosh, Tavola Rotonda. Visualizzare la Razza e Costruire la Bellezza in Italia (1922–2018), Italian Studies, Vol. 73, No. 4, 2018, 432-460.

17 Gaia Giuliani, Il colore della nazione, Milano-Firenze, Le Monnier-Mondadori, 2015.

18 Bianca Gaudenzi, Fascismi in vetrina. Pubblicità e modelli di consumo nel Ventennio e nel Terzo Reich, Roma, Viella, 2023.

19 Simone Cinotto, Gastrofascismo e impero. Il cibo nell’Africa Orientale Italiana, 1935-1941, Milano, Mimesis, 2023.

20 Alfredo Mignemi, Immagine coordinata per un impero. Etiopia 1935-1936, Torino, Forma, 1983.

21 Ferdinando Fasce, Elisabetta Bini, Bianca Gaudenzi, Comprare per credere. La pubblicità italiana dalla Belle Epoque a oggi, Roma, Carocci, 2016.

22 See: Antonio Farchione, Storia della pubblicità italiana dall’Unità ai nostri giorni, Canterano, Aracne, 2020; Vanni Codeluppi, Storia della pubblicità italiana, Roma, Carocci, 2013; Giovanna Zaganelli, Scrittori e pubblicità, Bologna, Fausto Lupetti Editore, 2011.

23 Diana Garvin, Feeding fascism: the politics of women’s food work, Eugene, University of Oregon Press, 2021.

24 Carol Helstosky, Garlic and oil: food and politics in Italy, Oxford, Berg Publishers, 2004.

25 Karen Pinkus, Bodily Regimes: Italian Advertising under Fascism, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota, 1995.

26 Ivi, 4.

27 Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of culture, Oxon, Routledge, 2004 (first published 1994).

28 Cedric Robinson, On racial capitalism, black internationalism, and cultures of resistance, London, Pluto, 2019.

29 Simone Cinotto, ‘The world on a plate: Globalization and national cuisines’, Quaderni Storici, No. 41, Vol. 3, 2006, 60–73.

30 Stuart Hall, ‘The West and the rest: discourse and power’, Essential writings: identity and diaspora, Vol. 2, Durham, Duke University Press, 1992, 141–182.

31 Michael Rothberg, Multidirectional memory: remembering the holocaust in the age of decolonization, Redwood City, Stanford University Press, 2009.

32 See: Nicola Labanca, Oltremare. Storia dell’espansione coloniale italiana, Bologna, Il Mulino, 2002, 130-152; Nicola Labanca, La guerra italiana per la Libia 1911-1912, Bologna, Il Mulino, 2012, 145-171.

33 Stuart Hall, 1992.

34 Ann McClintock, Imperial Leather. Race, gender, and sexuality in the colonial context, New York and London, Routledge, 1995, 211.

35 Ivi, 212.

36 Brian Griffith, ‘Bacchus among the Blackshirts: wine making, consumerism and identity in fascist Italy, 1919–1937’, Contemporary European History, Vol. 29, No. 4, 2020, 394–415.

37 Sidney Mintz, Sweetness and power: the place of sugar in modern history, New York, Viking, 1985.

38 James Walvin, The Fruits of empire: exotic produce and British taste 1660–1800, New York, New York University Press, 1997.

39 Mintz 1985.

40 Karen Pinkus, Bodily regimes: Italian advertising under fascism, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota, 1995, 56.

41 See: Silke Hackernesch, Chocolate and blackness: a cultural history, Berlin, Campus Verlag Gmbh, 2018; Emma Robertson, Chocolate, women and empire: a social and cultural history, Manchester, Manchester University Press, 2019; Frédéric Amiel, Petite histoire de la mondialisation à l’usage des amateurs de chocolat, Paris, Editions de l’Atelier, 2021; David Ciarlo, Advertising empire: race and visual culture in imperial Germany, Harvard, Harvard University Press, 2011.

42 See Luisa Passerini, La fontana della giovinezza, Firenze, Giunti Editore, 1999.

43 Ambe is an Amharic and Tigrinya term used to describe a characteristic landform in Ethiopia.

44 Fernando Cordova, Il consenso imperfetto: quattro capitoli sul fascismo, Soveria Mannelli, Rubettino, 2010.

45 Jane Burbank and Frederick Cooper, Empires in world history: power and the politics of difference, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 2011; Christoph Kamissek and Jonas Kreienbaum, ‘An Imperial Cloud? Conceptualising Interimperial Connections and Transimperial Knowledge’, Journal of Modern European History, Vol. 14, No. 2: 164–182; Ann Laura Stoler, Duress: imperial durabilities in our times, Duke University Press, Durham 2016; Patricia Lorcin and Todd Shepard (eds), French Mediterraneans: transnational and imperial histories, University of Nebraska, Lincoln, 2016.

46 West African troops who fought for France in World War I.

47 See Kayla Wazala Tompkins, Racial indigestion: eating bodies in the 19th century, New York, New York University Press, 2012.

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Table des illustrations

Titre Figure 1. Talmone Unica (1922)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-1.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 171k
Titre Figure 4. Caramella San Giorgio (1936)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-2.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 226k
Titre Figure 5. Pastiglie Leone (1926)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-3.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 201k
Titre Figure 6. Elah (1930)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-4.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 232k
Titre Figure 7. Ibac (1936)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-5.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 132k
Titre Figure 8. FL Cailler’s Cioccolato, Marcello Dudovich (1929)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-6.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 220k
Titre Figure 9. Unica Giovanni Guerrini (1925)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-7.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 237k
Titre Figure 10. G. B. Banchini, Erberto Carboni (1922)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-8.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 263k
Titre Figure 11. Perugina, Federico Seneca (1925)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-9.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 173k
Titre Figure 12. Perugina, Federico Seneca (1929)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-10.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 167k
Titre Figure 13. Karkade Kebe (1934)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-11.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 357k
Titre Figure 14. Ferrarelle (1930)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-12.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 249k
Titre Figure 15. Tamarindo Erba (1926)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-13.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 156k
Titre Figure 16. Aranciata San Pellegrino (1936)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-14.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 166k
Titre Figure 17. Tamarindo Erba (1927)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-15.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 222k
Titre Figure 18. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1934)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-16.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 252k
Titre Figure 19. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1935)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-17.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 268k
Titre Figure 20. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Gino Boccasile (1938)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-18.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 224k
Titre Figure 21. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1939)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-19.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 236k
Titre Figure 22. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1940)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-20.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 238k
Titre Figure 23. Estratto Olandese Marca Moretto, Franco Mosca (1941)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-21.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 210k
Titre Figure 24. Rum Coruba (1935)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-22.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 233k
Titre Figure 25. Nuovo Fiore Calissano, Aurelio Craffonara (1936)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-23.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 339k
Titre Figure 26. Ramazzotti, Amaro Felsina, Gino Boccasile (1935)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-24.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 195k
Titre Figure 27. Ramazzotti, Gino Boccasile (1936)
Crédits Source: Museo Nazionale of Treviso, http://www.collezionesalce.beniculturali.it (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-25.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 238k
Titre Figure 28. Banania (1915), by Giacomo de Andreis
Crédits Source: BNF, ENT DN-1 (Camis), Gallica: https://gallica.bnf.fr/​ark:/12148/​btv1b9006003d?rk=21459;2# (accessed Dec. 4, 2024).
URL http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/docannexe/image/9857/img-26.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 292k
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Référence électronique

Gabriele Proglio, « Food Advertising and Italian Colonial Propaganda »Genre & Histoire [En ligne], 34 | 2024, mis en ligne le 01 décembre 2024, consulté le 20 janvier 2025. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/genrehistoire/9857 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/12yku

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Auteur

Gabriele Proglio

University of Gastronomic Sciences, g.proglio@unisg.it

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