Como Lake, July 7th, 2025
Tecla Insolia in conversation with Lucrezia Sgualdino
Born in 2004, she has already taken on a number of highly successful roles and recently reached a historic milestone in her career: she is the youngest actress ever to receive a record number of nominations at the David di Donatello Awards, winning Best Leading Actress for the film “L’arte della gioia”. That same role also earned her a Nastro d’Argento for the adaptation of the TV series by the same name. In the conversation I had with her, many facets of her personality emerge—intimate and delicate, composed and at times fragile. Her clarity of thought is striking: she comes across as confident and sincere, direct and articulate. The bond she creates with her characters is key to both her personal and professional growth. Her tireless curiosity and desire to learn allow her to explore herself more deeply every day. Talent and authenticity walk side by side. She spoke to me about growth, beauty and art, freedom, and sensitivity. Her ability to remain vulnerable in front of such a complex world will carry her far—and we, as her audience, will always be part of the artistic exchange between her inner self, her performance, and the viewer who watches her with emotion, just as she once dreamed as a child.
I know you just got back yesterday from the French premiere of “L’Arte della Gioia”. How are you experiencing this moment? I imagine you must be overwhelmed with new emotions.
Tecla It was an incredibly emotional experience. I was in Paris both for the presentation of “L’Arte della Gioia” and for the film “L’albero” by Sara Petraglia. The Q&A for the film took place in a beautiful cinema near Rue Monge, while for the series I moved to a huge open-air arena packed with people—some even sitting on bleachers surrounded by trees. It felt like a concert! The audience was laughing; I could feel there was a connection with what they were watching. And that made me feel so small, as if I couldn’t quite hold the weight of the genuine attention those people were giving our work. But it was real—and it was special.
Let’s take a step back in time… How did your interest in acting begin?
Tecla I’ve always sung—it’s been part of my life from the very beginning. I started studying music when I was very young and grew up under the guidance of my vocal coach, Gianni Nepi. When you learn to express yourself through an artistic discipline, I think it’s almost inevitable that you end up exploring other forms as well. In the town where I grew up, a school called Accademia Le Muse was founded by Gianna Martorella, and I began attending all sorts of courses and masterclasses there with teachers, actors, and actresses who came on weekends to work with the various classes. I loved everything about it—immediately and deeply. Then, I realised I wanted to pursue this as a profession, because of the emotion I felt while watching a scene from a film—unfortunately I can’t remember the title—but I still vividly recall the feeling I had at the time: I want to move someone the way I’m being moved right now.
opening image: Earrings, necklace and bracelet Panthère de CARTIER.
“The freedom of this character really resonated with me—almost to the point of feeling envious. But maybe I chose to see Modesta’s freedom as a responsibility, something that—even if I didn’t feel it myself—I had to imagine vividly and portray convincingly, for everyone watching. Free even when wrong—that’s what Goliarda wrote, and what Valeria echoed in the screenplay. I think that was the key phrase to truly understand Modesta.”
In the character of Modesta, whom you portrayed, we’re talking more about costume than fashion—an element of culture that defines a specific era. What is your relationship with fashion?
Tecla The costumes played a fundamental role. I played Modesta from age 15 to 21, at the beginning of the 1900s, in a convent. I wore a grey tunic (hand-dyed), with a black belt that tied at the side like a necktie. I used to have fun tying and retying the knot, over and over again—pulling it tighter around my waist each time and giving myself little taps on the back, as if to call myself to attention. I searched for Modesta’s gestures in everything I had at my disposal. There was also a sacred heart-shaped pendant that they often had to sew into my collar because I would constantly reach for it. And finally, a cap—or rather, a little bonnet—that covered my hair and the hair of the other actresses playing the convent novices. It made us all look the same. I became very attached to that outfit—I even had these adored pockets where I’d hide cigarettes and a lighter every day! Once Modesta leaves the convent and arrives at the Brandiforti family’s estate, there’s no more room for grey. Princess Gaia demanded color—and color she got. Maria Rita Barbera is a brilliant costume designer, she gave life to a new Modesta through the many vintage pieces they pulled. A Modesta who, perhaps, had always been there. The corset I had to wear each morning kept my back perfectly straight; the long skirts and embroidered blouses made me feel like I was part of the beauty that surrounded me—from the villas where we filmed, to the people I had the privilege of working with. I don’t really know much about fashion—actually, I’d say I know nothing—but I do understand how important it is to feel represented by what you wear and what you see.
What about art—what does it mean to you?
Tecla It will always be a source of inspiration, even though I know I’ll never be able to fully grasp it all!
Modesta comes across as a very modern character, even though she belongs to the early 20th century. In what ways did you connect with her?
Tecla The freedom of this character really resonated with me—almost to the point of feeling envious. But maybe I chose to see Modesta’s freedom as a responsibility, something that—even if I didn’t feel it myself—I had to imagine vividly and portray convincingly, for everyone watching. “Free even when wrong”—that’s what Goliarda wrote, and what Valeria echoed in the screenplay. I think that was the key phrase to truly understand Modesta. People often describe her as a revolutionary, modern character—just like Goliarda Sapienza herself—but I never quite found the words to express how genuinely happy I was to feel so instinctively close to something that, on paper, seemed so distant from me. There was a kind of ease in how I felt included in something so much bigger than myself while filming. That feeling was made possible first and foremost by Valeria Golino, and by the relationships I built with the cast and crew—bonds that, in different ways, are still alive today. It makes me realise that this kind of experience will be impossible to replicate.
[…]
What does the literal “art of joy” mean to you? It’s not easy to be happy, and even harder to fully understand what joy really is—it always seems fleeting, ephemeral, light… Have you ever reflected on what these words mean to you personally?
Tecla I’ve often wondered about the meaning of that phrase—or maybe it’s better described as a spirit, the spirit of Goliarda, I think… And when the questions are big, the answers tend to be small: being with the people I love, learning, changing, traveling, watching myself and my brothers grow up, photography, films, listening to the same songs over and over—or discovering new music every day.
Read the full interview on Muse September Issue 66.
