It’s impossible to think about the history of humanity without considering hands. Speeches are fine, as are ideals to defend and visions to argue for, but even in those cases, hands play an important role because, moving to the rhythm of words and thoughts, they give strength, substance, and presence to the meaning that words carry with them.
Hands, however, are above all devoted to touching, to doing; they are rarely destined for inactivity. Hands have always been present in human history, even though they often appear only as extras and are frequently not even mentioned in the credits. They almost always move nimbly and, with savoir faire, create and build. Sometimes they join palm to palm, with fingers interlaced, engaged in a thought or a prayer or a worry. Other times they are strong and sure and tear or strike. They are often beautiful when expressing love in its many forms.
Some people have calluses on their hands, others have wounds or bruises, because hands, no matter how patient, can only bear fatigue, pain, and the repetition of gestures up to a point.
All of humanity revolves around hands, just like feet and legs. It’s fine to move, to cover distances, but then it becomes necessary to eat, build, touch—and none of that can be done without the help of hands. There is no daily action that can be performed without hands. Even while walking, hands are needed to maintain body balance and to feel where one is and where one is going. Even when telling our stories, hands are important—try doing it with your hands in your pockets or resting on your lap. Without hands, life would be immensely more meaningless and more difficult.
Hands are both the engine and the history of everything. Everything is done with hands, even when a machine performs part of the work, hands are always needed to correct the errors of machines and their senseless (from a hand’s point of view) specializations.
The hand holds an incredible range of skills and knowledge that no machine will ever match, because machines are not sentient and will never ask themselves what they are doing or why. Let alone wonder whether it could be done better.
Hands—ten fingers, five per hand (though not always)—are a wondrous world in that opening and closing of palms and phalanges. Hands are the center of the world. Hands are what connect us to our ancestors: doing, creating, being, communicating.
Above all, doing.
Monica Rusconi, Director of the Museum of Peasant Civilization of Stabio
