The point is that memory is a sacred fact, tragically dense, identitary and yet open. And it is marked by boulders and pauses for meditation, by beauty and horror, by symbolic writings and images. It should then be left the time and space of sediment, of transformation, of testimony. With all the inconvenience that sometimes comes from that. Hans Piffrader’s imposing bas-relief tells a thousand things, and tells them – even if it is not a masterpiece – with the finesse and passion of the creative gesture. Things that still today invite reflection. No longer propaganda, but document. A corpus that the present has the duty to question and look in the face, continuing to make itself history, to take the burden, to drag forward the echo of the facts, the effort of analysis, the exercise of resistance.