Labyrinths have always fascinated me. Along with gardens, they are among humanity's most ancient inventions. I first envisaged building a labyrinth twenty years ago, at a period in time when I frequently had one guest in particular stayng at my house in the countryside near Parma - a fiend, not to mention a hugly important contributor to the publishing house I had recently founded: the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges. It is widely know that the labirinth has always been one of his favourite topics; the trajectories traced by his hesitant blind man's steps reminded me of the uncertainties faced by those who, during their life's journey, negotiate enigma and forks in the road.
I belive that it was watching him and talking to him about the strange routes men follow that sparked the initial idea for my poject.
As you know, whan Minos has his Labirinth built -as a prison- he had dark and cruel inventions in mind; I imagined a benevolent version, that would also be a garden, where people could walk in safety, perhaps getting lost every once in a while.
My passion for bamboo -that elegant plant, so rarely used in the West, especially in Italy - gave me the material for the project.
From then on, and over the last few years in particular, the undertaking has absorbed much of my time.

Franco Maria Ricci