Franco Carlisi’s eye keeps catching some “off-screen”
images and gives them back to us, I would say just as a narrator, with
an extraordinary liveliness and intensity.
An absent look, a distracted bride, the suffering aspect of a parent for the coming separation.
They are photos that will never enter the official album authorized to be the matrix of memories. The dressmaker breaking a thread of the bride’s immaculate dress with her teeth would be out of place.
The wedding photos usually long for elusiveness, lightness, purity, solemnity.
Instead, through Carlisi’s eye, everything becomes physical, strong experienced, real, without half tones. See the bride breastfeeding her child.
Aren’t they a story of great expressive strength?
Luca Manfredi has walked the land and has seeded a memory of
it’s people with his vision of Irish Pavee kids. Precocious and mysterious
lads, they draw upon their inner strength to find a place within themselves
where removal from a place does not create sorrow, but freedom. At ten years
old with their own horse they are like complete adults. They sway in the
meadows with a cerulean aura on their skin and excitement on their faces as if
they were continuously singing. They are young, around eight, but for some
inexplicable reason they carry on as though they were grown men. They have many
siblings among their own kind, were raised without formal schooling, and are
children of extended ‘families’ where their own language of signs and gestures
are recognized without judgement.
sedimento (sediment) originates from a larger project called Guardo divenire immagine, a two-year research carried out by three photographers: Samuele Bianchi, Simone Letari and Simona Lunatici. In this book the authors explore places with no documentary intent. They observe them, cross them, live them with an unbiased look which is always ready to embrace what chooses to reveal itself. The word sediment indicates the solid material that settles at the bottom of a liquid following the application of a force.
Giuseppe Pagano’s journey in the world of
Alberto Giacometti commences with the small stones placed on the sculptor’s
grave, in Stampa, at the local cemetery surrounded by the high rock faces of
Val Bregaglia. From that moment on, and on several occasions, he keeps
returning to this valley in pursuit of the evidence of a suspended transition:
“I could feel that that place was calling me” – he said – “everywhere I looked
I could see unequivocal signs, as though his presence were blocked in that place”. It is only through death that
man is, in some way, freed. Death makes life solemn and so, as Berger says,
“the essence of Giacometti’s work is the awareness of death”.
If each narrative, as Algirdas J.
Greimas states, has thresholds, then cities too have entrances, borders and
contours. Naples has often been conquered from below, taking advantage of its
ancient Greek aqueduct to enter the city; in fact Naples has an underground and
conspicuous contour with no light, made of age-old, dark waters. For
centuriesmits beauties have been approached by the sea, then inland journey
being long and tiresome. And if the old heart of the city beats without the sun
and sea, as in Caravaggio’s paintings and Anna Maria Ortese’s novels, its
contours, even the most distant ones like those
of the splendid Campi Flegrei, are rather flooded by light. \...\
Carlo Desideri has done a radiograph of its coasts and novelists, pursuing through his photographs those places which have been endlessly described by writers and voyagers.
Nocturnal places like suggestions which surface from the darkness of a virtual canvas. Unusual dwellings and spaces in which the lunar, artificial light seems to blend with the wind to create new forms and original visions, in which the invisible becomes perceptible... or perhaps these are simply moods, amplified by the dark.
148 pages, format mm 220 x 300.
The publication is aimed at an audience of amateurs, professionals and artists as a source for further study, debate and anticipation of creative trends.